The Competition Begins (Ch. 02)

"What's this I hear about a party?"

Sam looked over Harumi's shoulder and saw her only other friend, Will, lurking at the end of the aisle. The three had been inseparable since junior high school.

"And some college quarterback?"

Sam groaned. Will stepped out of sight. He was an employee at the market and had received regular updates about Ballister College each evening as they worked. She should have known he'd tell Harumi everything.

"I met him in my writing class. He-." Sam stopped, trying to figure out what to say. "He stopped by here the other night and, um, asked me out."

Will rounded the corner of the aisle, unembarrassed by his eavesdropping. "That's the guy who came in the other night?! You acted so funny the rest of the evening, I thought maybe you were sick."

He glanced over his shoulder, on the lookout for Ms. T. Her mom didn't like 'paying for their gossip,' as she put it. "Wow, Sam. I mean, he was hot. Like so hot I wasn't sure he was real. And really big. He walked by me later without buying anything and I—." Will stopped suddenly, reddening, realizing what he'd just said.

Harumi covered, protecting Will's dignity. She was always good about that.

"See, even Will noticed him," she said. "Well? Spill it."

Sam sighed. "I don't know. There's not much to tell. His name's Marco. He seemed interested after the first class meeting. He came by that night to say hi. His friend invited me to a party Friday."

"And?" Harumi asked.

"That's it. Really," Sam protested.

"Did you say yes? Is he going to be at the party? What are you going to do?"

Harumi would not be denied, and Sam knew better than to protest further. Harumi was voluble and stubborn, traits that Sam usually appreciated. In school they had bonded in math classes, becoming fast friends and sometimes competitors for the top marks. Harumi was leaving in a couple weeks to attend a music college in Minnesota. Sam was going to miss her.

"I don't know. It's all so—. Things are changing so fast."

"Sam!" Harumi cried, "This is so crazy! You go to Ballister for a week, and you're about to become the quarterback's girlfriend. What's next? Top of your class?"

Harumi's laughter drew Will, who was pretending to arrange packets of spaghetti. He liked these sorts of games.

"More like homecoming queen," he said.

"Samantha Telnor, Sorority President," Harumi countered.

They all laughed, but Will wasn't done.

"Professor Telnor, breaker of equations and hearts!"

Sam punched him on the shoulder. The jibes, including one about her becoming the football team's mascot, didn't stop until Ms. T appeared in the aisle looking harried.

"There you are. Harumi, are you sure you don't need a job?"

"Thanks, Ms. T, but I don't think the three of us should work together. Nothing would get done!"

"I'm not sure anything is getting done now," Sam's mom noted, though her tone was lighthearted.

"I should sweep the front," Will said quickly, heading off to fetch a broom.

Harumi gave Sam a hug and picked up her shopping basket, following Ms. T to the front to check out.

At the end of the night, Sam found Will at the back of the store, hanging his apron in one of the employee lockers. Will was a brainy, funny filament of a boy; he was only a bit taller than Sam. Sam enjoyed his company immensely. His goofy brand of humor made even the hardest workday easier. Once she had thought Will was interested in her, but he'd never made a move. She was pretty sure he was gay; in high school she'd watched his eyes follow Alec Cadell as often as her own. Sam's throat grew tight as she watched her friend. She would miss Harumi, but at least she knew Harumi had her own college adventures ahead. What was Will going to do? He didn't seem interested in college, and it wasn't as if this town held much else for him.

Sam opened her locker and stowed her own apron. When she turned around, Will was looking at her as if deciding what to say.

"Will?" Sam asked.

His face screwed up in an odd expression, and he blurted, "I'm going to miss her."

Sam's face softened, and she gave her friend a quick hug.

"Me too," she said. "But we'll stick together, right? And she'll be back at Christmas."

Will nodded, blinking fast, tears glistening in his eyes.

"Come on. Let's lock up and go help my mom. She's always happier when we leave together."

***

"Are you sure this is it?" Harumi asked, looking up a long driveway toward a large house set back in the trees.

Harumi had agreed to go with Sam, with the added bonus that her parents more readily allowed her use of a car. They were arriving well after 9pm; Sam had not anticipated how anxiety and nervous energy would slow their preparations. She had worried the party might be over by the time they arrived, but it seemed exactly the opposite.

"I think so," Sam said. "It sounds like a party."

The house was two stories. Light poured from every window, and they could hear music and voices even this far away.

"I can't believe this," Harumi whispered as they peered up at the house.

"What?"

"My first college party is at Ballister College. This place has always felt so..."

"Untouchable?"

Harumi nodded.

"Hey," a deep voice called. Sam and Harumi jumped. Sam whirled to see Alec approaching. On his arm was Brittany, the other pathways student.

"I'm Alec." He held out his hand politely to Harumi, then withdrew it slightly. "Wait. Do I know you?"

"Harumi. We went to high school together."

"Oh. You were in the band, right?"

Harumi nodded. The two stared at each other for a moment wondering whether there was more to say. After an awkward pause, Alec introduced his date.

"This is Brittany," Alec said, "though I guess you two met at the breakfast."

"Hello." The statuesque Brittany nodded haughtily at the two other women. "We should go up." She pulled on Alec's arm.

"Yeah," he said, following her. "See you inside?"

Sam nodded. "Sure."

Harumi watched the two walk up the driveway, then turned to Sam. "We should go up," she said loftily, imitating Brittany's tone.

Sam laughed. "I'm glad you said yes to coming. I probably would have stayed home."

Harumi threaded her arm through Sam's, mimicking Brittany's pose.

"Well, let's go see what a Ballister College house party is like."

The din grew as they approached. More than a dozen people filled the wide front porch. Inside, the front hall was jammed with people lounging and talking. In one direction, several people sat at a large dining table bouncing quarters from the tabletop into red plastic cups. In the other direction a dimly lit living room had been half-converted to a dance floor. Half of the crowd there was dancing while the other half made out, some on the couch, others in chairs, one couple on a piano bench. Every room they entered was loud—loud with music or loud with people talking to the point of yelling. Even the hallways were jammed. Was this what Kyle meant by a few friends?

Sam and Harumi wandered through the first floor of the house in stunned amazement. Sam recognized a few people from the writing class. The men waved or said hello but didn't engage. The women mostly ignored her, though a couple glared and turned away. After a time, the vortex of people whirled them into the kitchen, which was the loudest and busiest place of all.

"You need a drink!"

Sam recognized the tall man shouting at her as Matt from the writing class. He was a big guy, and Sam though he was probably on the football team with Marco. Sam didn't know what to say to his declaration, so she just smiled. A drink was soon presented to her in a red cup, followed by another for Harumi. Sam peered in and found what looked to be orange juice.

"Cheers," Matt yelled, holding up his own red vessel. His drink didn't look like orange juice, which might be why his cheeks were practically the color of his cup. After a crinkly smash of plastic, the three took a drink together. Matt downed the entire contents, while Sam and Harumi sipped. It was orange juice all right, with something briny and bitter mixed in. Harumi was making a face.

Matt laughed. "Don't tell me you've never—."

Sam didn't hear the last part of whatever Matt said because someone was shouting her name. She turned to find Kyle, tall and dashing, maneuvering easily through the crush of people. The tall blonde swimmer wore a deep red polo over a pair of white trousers. He looked like he might step onto a yacht at any moment. Kyle had no qualms about pushing people aside to get to her. Sam's mind conjured an image of a gallant knight swooping in to rescue her from the common rabble.

"Come outside," Kyle yelled, enveloping her hand in his. "Follow me."

Sam followed, appreciating the strength in Kyle's grip and the way his shirt stretched across his obviously muscular back. She turned to make sure Harumi was following in their wake. Her trusted friend was having a harder time keeping pace but was still with them when Kyle finally broke through, practically dragging Sam out a pair of French doors onto a wide deck.

"There," Kyle said, expression exasperated. "I had no idea so many people would come."

"How many did you invite?"

Kyle shook his head. "Too many, apparently."

"This is my friend, Harumi," said Sam once her friend had joined them.

"Quite, um, a place you have here," Harumi said, her cheeks coloring as Kyle leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek.

"It's a great house," Kyle said, his charming smile making Sam feel like she was melting into the deck. "We've got a great crew this year. We try to keep it in the family."

Sam frowned, wondering how that worked, only for Kyle to explain: "Right. By family I mean the swim team. I forget you're new to all this. It's weird, you're so, I don't know, mature. I don't really think of you as a freshman."

Sam turned to Harumi, hoping she'd have something to say to that. Her friend raised an eyebrow.

Kyle, meanwhile, had already moved on. "Let's go out in the yard. We started the bonfire."

The night had grown brisk, and Sam shivered as they walked down a few steps into the yard. The lawn was large and a good deal quieter than the house, the open air swallowing sound. There were small groups of partygoers scattered about, though people gravitated toward the fire. They joined the general throng. As they approached the bonfire, the roar and crackle drowned out all but the nearest voices while lighting everyone in a warm yellow glow.

The heat grew as they drew close but felt good on Sam's bare skin. She'd chosen to wear a light blue spring dress, which Harumi had said brought out her eyes. Her friend had wanted to lend her a black cocktail dress. Sam had admitted it was more formal and daring, but she already felt too exposed among these older and wealthier Ballister students.

Kyle called one of his roommates over, someone Sam did not recognize. His name was Jake, and he had the broad but lithe figure Sam was coming to associate with the men's swim team. Kyle made a point to introduce him to Harumi. Sam thought that was odd until a few minutes later when Jake peeled Harumi away to join a clump of people gathered around a woman strumming a guitar.

"I'm glad you came," Kyle said, watching Harumi and Jake go.

"Thank you for inviting me," Sam said, more woodenly than she'd intended.

Kyle snorted. "You're so different."

Sam shivered, mostly from the chilly breeze rustling from the trees. Kyle noticed.

"You're cold," he said. "We can go inside."

"No," Sam replied, "it's okay. I like it here." She didn't want to go anywhere without Harumi.

"Okay," Kyle said. "At least let me do this." He wrapped an arm about her waist, pulling her into the side of his body.

Sam's mind went blank. She stood awkwardly for a moment, arm crushed against Kyle's side. All she could process was the strength in his arm and the solid planes of his body and his warmth. He felt good. It felt weirdly right for him to hold her. Before she could fully think about what she was doing and why, Sam slid her arm around Kyle's waist, hugging him back. The tall blonde swimmer made a humming noise of approval, and for a time they remained like that, for all the world looking like a happy couple staring romantically into the flames.

"Why do you think I'm different?" Sam asked, feeling pressure to make conversation.

"I don't know," Kyle said. "Maybe because you grew up here."

Sam studied his handsome profile. Kyle, like Alec, had that all-American look that Sam was pretty sure society had programmed her to like. Blonde hair, blue eyes, strong jaw, even stronger body. It was a nice package, but a part of Sam resisted. She knew next to nothing about Kyle, but Alec's example had made Kyle easy to like. Kyle also put an effort into being easy to like, with his charm and confidence.

"How was it?" Kyle asked.

Sam took a deep breath, wondering what to say to someone who had probably never struggled in the same ways.

"Not so bad. We have stuff in this town because of the college, so there was always something to do. I don't know—I hardly know anywhere else. I don't have much to compare."

Kyle nodded. Sam was about to ask where he'd grown up when a voice announced a new arrival.

"Not a bad fire."

Sam turned to find Marco standing a couple feet away. She hadn't heard him approach, distracted by the fire and the press of Kyle's muscled body. Marco's expression was slightly amused, and his stunning green eyes danced in the firelight.

"Oh, hi," Sam said. Why did she suddenly feel guilty? She wasn't doing anything wrong. Even so, she dropped her arm from Kyle's waist. The blonde man didn't take the hint. In fact, his grip tightened, plastering Sam to his side. The swimmer was strong.

"I thought you were going to Tom's," Kyle said, his tone faintly accusatory.

"I went," replied Marco. "It was fun but everyone seemed to be on their way here."

At that moment, a large crash sounded from the deck, followed by a shout of laughter.

Kyle gave a short laugh. "Seems like everyone found their way."

Marco's eyes traveled down Sam's body, stopping at the large male hand at her waist. Sam watched his reaction. His lip twitched, but that was the only sign. Then, his eyes flitted back to meet Sam's. She pulled in a short, involuntary breath. There was a flintiness to his gaze that hadn't been there before, and Sam felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"There they are! The two biggest studs in this fucking shithole town!"

A woman's bawdy shout rang from the shadows beyond the bonfire. A moment later a tall woman with a well-coifed mane of blonde hair came into view. She had on a low cut pink dress designed to emphasize her brash femininity, or perhaps it was just her bosom that was brash. Her large breasts appeared to have been wrestled into the pink contrivance and were anxiously calling for their freedom.

The blonde woman was trailed by two others. Sam recognized them from the writing class: Becky and Tina. They were also tall and slender and magnificent in their fancy clothing. Becky, a redhead, wore a bra top and low cut jeans that made Sam feel cold merely looking at her. Tina, another blonde, wore a long skirt, making up for that touch of modesty with a sheer blouse that hid little. The three women arrayed themselves to confront Kyle and Marco.

"Hi, Miranda," Kyle said, and Sam could hear some unease, maybe even some distaste in his tone.

The tall blonde leered at Kyle, stumbling a little as she stared. Miranda was drunk. Righting herself, she turned her eyes on Sam.

"Is this her?" she shouted. "This little thing?"

Becky and Tina nodded in unison. Kyle's grip, tight before, tightened even further. Sam, already somewhat cowed, grew worried. Did Kyle think Miranda more a danger than Marco, who had looked like he wanted to throw Kyle into the fire?

"Oh my god," Miranda laughed. Then, she kept laughing. Then, she doubled over, snorting. When Miranda stood back up, she dabbed daintily at the corner of her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—I thought there was something to worry about."

Sam heard Marco make a long sigh. Miranda heard it, too, and she looked his way, gaze appraising. Sam noticed the two had similar color eyes.

"And what about you, big man?" Miranda cooed. "Do you prefer the local trash now, too?"

The woman strumming the guitar stopped mid-chord. People had been watching the exchange surreptitiously, but now everyone turned toward them. Sam couldn't tell what they were thinking. Were they horrified at how she was being treated or curious about what Marco would say?

"Miranda..." Kyle groaned in dismay. Marco didn't say anything.

Sam squirmed in Kyle's grip. This was exactly what she'd feared would happen. People would judge her and be mean, and she didn't even like crowded parties, so why bother. Miranda noticed her moving.

"Ooooh! Do you want to fight, little girl? Want me to show you where the trash goes?"

Kyle squeezed Sam close for a moment, a sign of his reluctance to let her go, but he finally dropped his hand.

Harumi appeared at Sam's side. "Do you want to leave?"

"And who's this? Another bit of local garbage?"

"Shut your trap, ostrich."

Sam stared at Harumi, surprised at her friend's sharp retort. The women behind Miranda gasped, while several in the crowd chuckled. She did look a lot like a great, pink, big-boobied ostrich.

"You squinty-eyed bitch!" Miranda snarled and leapt at Harumi.

That was a step too far for Sam. As the tall Miranda barreled forward, Sam stepped into her path, putting an arm out as if to call a halt. The two women collided, Miranda's midsection driving Sam's hand back painfully. The taller woman made an "oof" sound as Sam's back smacked into Harumi, knocking her backward. Miranda recovered quickly, finding her real target within grasp. She tangled one hand in Sam's hair and began slapping her across the head with the other.

Sam had never been a fight, and even drunk Miranda was a formidable first opponent. She wrenched Sam's head to the side and delivered another vicious slap while pandemonium broke out around them. Kyle was closest, and he pushed between them, clapping a hand over Miranda's outstretched arm and using his body to block further blows. Miranda started hitting him instead.

Harumi shouted and moved toward Miranda but Becky lunged and the two women struggled. Jake leapt into the fray, pushing the two struggling women into Tina, who applied her indignation to Jake's shoulders.

Sam pushed at Miranda's hand in her hair, trying to disentangle herself. A different male hand brushed aside her grasp, clamping around Miranda's wrist. The other woman squawked and released Sam. Kyle was roughly shoved backward, then Miranda was magically lifted away.

Sam caught sight of the larger woman's surprised expression as her feet left the ground. Arms flailing, Miranda made another swipe at Sam as she rose in the air. By luck or misfortune her two middle fingers caught the neckline of Sam's dress, and as Miranda was hauled away, her fingers became two hooks. Sam's lightweight dress had been washed and dried dozens of times, and the fabric was thin. As Miranda was swept aside, so was Sam's dress.

Sam shrieked as the rent in the fabric lengthened, the tear running past her panty line. Her whole torso, neck to crotch, was exposed to view before Miranda's claw-like fingers slipped free. Kyle, wide-eyed, stepped forward to help, but his hands merely got in Sam's way, extending her exposure.

"Look at her!" Miranda crowed. She struggled meagerly against Marco's grip. She was probably enjoying being restrained by the handsome quarterback. Marco, on the other hand, paid her no mind. His focus was on Sam, which only added to Sam's embarrassment. To his credit, he was watching her face, as if assessing how she handled herself in a crisis.