He closed the door. Locked the dead bolt.
He looked around. This was his – all his.
Two-hundred and eighty square feet of freedom. His very own – his very first – apartment. Yeah, sure, it was a tiny dorm that looked like it was built in the ‘60s. The walls were made of cinder blocks, painted an ugly off-green color. There was one window in the whole room, but it overlooked the courtyard. Enough closet space to hold a couple weeks worth of clothes. Coin laundry just down the hall. A dresser that doubled as a TV stand. And a bed. A full-size bed with springs as old as he was.
He loved it.
Every last square inch of it.
Crammed on the floor and stacked half way to the ceiling were all his boxes. Which one should he open first?
Video games. Yeah, that’s a good place to start.
He pulled out his XBOX 360 and PlayStation 3. Hooked them up to the 32” HDTV his parents bought him as a welcome-to-college gift. He just had to promise to not let it affect any of his grades.
Next he pulled out some clothes. Hung them – rather, crammed them – into the closet. Squeezed the rest into the dresser.
He pulled out a some posters – giant sexy photos of Megan Fox, Halle Berry, and Jessica Alba. Taped them to his wall.
Dug through another box. Found two boxes of Trojans he managed to sneak by without his parents noticing.
Yeah, this was going to be a good year. The first year of the rest of his life. The year of freedom. Of new possibilities. He could be anybody he wanted to be. Do anything he wanted to do.
And he was finally going to have sex. This semester. He knew it.
There was a knock at the door.
Who could it be?
He looked through the tiny peep hole. It was some guy. Didn’t recognize him.
He opened the door.
“Sup bro,” said the guy. “My name’s Jack. I live just down the hall. Anyway, some guys are throwing a little pre-semester party in room 302-B. It’s BYOB. You should come.”
Wow. Classes haven’t even started yet and the parties were already starting! “Yeah, cool, thanks!” he said.
“Cool.” He was about to leave. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Right on. Freshman?”
“Excellent. Alright, well, see you tonight!”
“Yeah. OH! What time?” asked Paul.
“Be there around 8. And don’t forget the drinks!”
Jack left. Headed for the next door down the line.
Cool. A party. With alcohol. Which meant drunk girls. Score!
Eight o’clock. On the dot. Paul stood in front of the door of room 302-B. He held a six pack of Buds in his hand. He had to wait outside the liquor store for 45 minutes before someone finally agreed to take his cash and buy it for him. But at least he came prepared. And by prepared, that also meant carrying four condoms in his pocket. Paul was feeling optimistic.
Paul gave himself one more quick check over. Shower? Check. Fresh deodorant? Check. Clean shirt? Check. Positive mental attitude? Check. Little Paulie alert and ready for action? Abso-fuckin-lutely!
…he really needed to come up with a better name for it, though.
He knocked on the door. He could hear the loud base already penetrating through.
No answer. He knocked again, harder, louder.
Someone opened the door.
It was loud in there. Stereo blasting. A crowded room full of hot college guys and girls drinking, socializing, playing Texas Hold’em, eating chips and salsa… The place reeked of alcohol. Perfect.
Paul held up his six pack of Buds.
The person welcomed him in.
Okay, now what? Someone took his beer and added it to the collection on the table. A few guys were setting up beer pong. Two hot girls were sitting by themselves on the couch, sipping on some girly wine cooler.
Right. This was it. Perfect. He’ll just go over there and start talking to those girls. Easy. No sweat. Girls are people too. All he had to do was play it cool.
He took one step forward – and then immediately stopped and pointed himself in another direction.
Who was he kidding? Those girls were HOT. Way out of his league. Maybe he should start on someone simpler… easier…
He looked around. Pretty much everybody here was hot.
But hey, maybe that meant he was good looking too.
And why not? He was a handsome fellow. His mom told him that all the– Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about his mom right now. He just needed a little self-confidence.
He grabbed a beer. Something in a plastic red cup. It tasted awful, whatever it was. Oh well. He kept drinking it.
Some guy came up to him. Probably noticed him standing there like an idiot.
“Wassup,” he said over the noise. “I’m Rick.”
“Paul,” he replied, shaking hands.
“You a first year?”
“Cool. What’s your major?”
“Right on. I’m in engineering, but I’m taking a psych class this semester for my gen ed.”
“You have a girlfriend?”
“No…” said Paul.
Rick gestured toward the two hot girls on the couch.
“You should go talk to them,” he said.
Paul kinda shrugged.
“Relax. That’s Tiffany and Miranda. Two of the easiest girls in Delta Delta Delta. I guarantee you’ll have a good time with them.”
Paul took another gulp of the bad beer. “Right. Okay.” He tried to pump himself up. He could do this. Rick seemed like a nice guy. And those girls were hot. If they’re as easy as he said… good thing Paul brought condoms.
Paul finished off his beer and walked over to them.
“Hi,” he said, standing in front of them.
They both looked at him with disbelief. The kind of “who the hell do you think you are, coming over here and talking to us like that?” kind of look.
“I’m Paul. What’s your names?”
“Miranda,” said one, clearly not interested in him.
The other, Tiffany, just looked away, acting like she didn’t hear the question.
“You ladies want something to drink?”
Tiffany continued to ignore him. Miranda lightly lifted up her wine cooler, showing him they already were quite content with the drinks they had.
“Right… well… okay. It was nice meeting you. I’ll see you around.”
Paul returned to the beer table. Rick stood by watching the whole thing.
“Ouch. Sorry bro.”
“Whatever,” said Paul.
Rick put his arm around Paul. “Don’t let it get to you. You should be like me. You see me chasing after any girls? Hell no! I let them come to me. That’s right. Rick-meister’s the stud-meister. You gotta act confident. You gotta know that you’re the shit, and any girl in this room would be lucky to get with you. Girls sense that crap. You gotta know how to play the game, man.”
Paul wormed his way out from under Rick’s arm. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Cheers!” said Rick, taking another drink.
Paul headed for the door. This party was a bust. He was tired. Just wanted to go back to his room and crash. Maybe play some video games first. But nothing good was going to happen here.
But just before he got to the door, a female voice stopped him. “You’re leaving?”
He turned to see who it was.
A cute redhead.
“Yeah, I got an early class tomorrow and –”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” she said, sounding genuine. “I was hoping you were gonna talk to me.”
What? He got a closer look at her. She was very cute. Nice tight body. Great legs, short skirt… How did he not notice her before?
“I, uh… still can.”
She smiled. “I’m Tara.”
They walked back to the party. Grabbed a couple beers on the way.
Paul and Tara found a little corner that wasn’t occupied by cards games or people making out. She was really easy to talk to. A great listener. Smiled and nodded a lot. Asked questions. Paul loved the attention. And she only got prettier as the night went on.
Of course, part of that was probably the alcohol. Of which they both had quite a lot of. By around 3 AM, half the party had vanished. People either ended up passing out, vomiting, or wandering back to someone’s bed. Those that were left were playing video games, still munching on the remaining snacks, or, like Paul and Tara, sitting and enjoying each other’s company in a nice, long conversation.
But also by 3 AM, Tara had gotten pretty drunk and pretty sleepy. She started to pass out. First on his shoulder. Then against the wall. And finally, she laid down on the floor, said she just had to rest a minute, but was snoring in no time.
No sex for him tonight.
But he still had a nice conversation. And he was sure he’d see her again. They might even start dating! Maybe. He looked at her. Even asleep, drooling on the floor, she was so hot.
Of course, Paul was pretty drunk and tired too. Maybe had a little too much to drink. He didn’t feel like sleeping on the floor in some stranger’s dorm room, so he stumbled to his feet and worked his way back to his own room.
He crawled into his bed. Barely managed to pull some covers up over him. And quickly passed out.
He had some weird dreams that night.
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