I was still a little dazed when we headed out to dinner, headachy from my daylong hangover—tequila shots will do that to you—and a little freaked out by my new surroundings, the high-rise buildings and unfamiliar faces. It was hard to believe I was finally in college, after all the endless build-up, a whole year of tours and tests and applications and interviews, the drama of choosing your future, graduating high school, saying goodbye to your friends and family and coaches, all that weepy shit.
It was exciting, I guess, to have the freedom I’d been dreaming about, the ability to do what I wanted when I wanted, no one to answer to but myself. But it was kind of a letdown, too. The truth is, I would’ve been just as happy to spend another year at Haddington High, where I knew everyone and everyone knew me, where I could be a varsity starter in pretty much any sport I chose, and get straight Bs without breaking a sweat. I had a slightly queasy feeling walking into town—the same feeling I got in airports and train stations—like there were way too many people in the world, and none of them gave a shit about me.
At least the fresh air did me some good. It had gotten pretty claustrophobic up in the dorm room, my mother doing that manic thing of hers, fixing everything up, offering all kinds of advice nobody had asked for, like it was rocket science to do your laundry, and she was the head of NASA. When she finally got on the elevator, I felt a deep sense of relief, which isn’t the way you want to feel toward your mom at a moment like that.
Zack put his arm around me, very casually, as we walked, like we’d known each other for years. It reminded me of my friend Wade, who used to do all kinds of homoerotic shit like that in the hallways. Sometimes he would even kiss me on the cheek or the side of the head, or give my ass a little squeeze, which was only funny because we were lacrosse players and everybody knew we weren’t gay.
“Bro,” he told me, “we are gonna have mad fun this year. Alcohol will be consumed in massive quantities in Room 706.”
“Weed will be smoked,” I said. “Parties will be had.”
“Dicks will be sucked!” he added, in such a loud voice that these two Asian girls walking ahead of us turned and gave us a look, like we were a couple of assholes.
“Not by me,” Zack assured the girls, quickly withdrawing his arm from my shoulder. “But you ladies should totally go for it, if that’s your thing.”
The girls didn’t crack a smile. They just turned and kept walking.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “No one’s judging you. Lots of people come out in college.”
“Eat me, douchebag.”
“That’s hate speech, dickhead.”
“Douchebag is hate speech?”
“Yeah. It’s offensive to douchebags.”
“Huh.” He nodded, like that made a lot of sense. “Then I apologize.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “We’re here to learn and grow.”
*
There were only supposed to be four of us at the pizzeria—me and Zack, plus Will and Rico, these chill dudes from our floor—but unbeknownst to us, Will had invited his camp counselor buddy, Dylan, and Dylan had brought along his roommate, this annoying kid named Sanjay.
I mean, it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with Sanjay, and no, I’m not prejudiced against Indian people or anyone else. It was just awkward. The rest of us were jocks and hard partiers, and Sanjay was a skinny nerd who looked like he was about twelve years old. And that’s fine, you know? Go ahead and be a nerd if that’s what makes you happy. Go design your app or whatever. Just don’t ask me to give a shit.
“Sanjay’s in the Honors College,” Dylan informed us. “Majoring in Electrical Engineering. Talk about badass.”
I guess you have to give Dylan some credit. He was trying to be a good roommate, doing his best to include Sanjay in the conversation and make him feel comfortable. It was just a waste of time, that’s all. Sanjay wasn’t going to be friends with us, and we weren’t going to be friends with him. You could take one look at our table and know that for a fact.
“Nice,” said Rico, who was a white guy with curly blond hair, a former high school wrestler. His real name was Richard Timpkins, but the Spanish teacher called him Rico, and his friends thought it was hilarious, so the nickname stuck. “I thought about Engineering, but I kinda suck at math. Plus I smoke way too much weed.”
“Maybe there’s a connection,” said Will, an ex–football player whose neck was wider than his head. “Just putting it out there.”
“It’s possible,” agreed Rico. “Bong hits and calculus are not a winning combination.”
“Actually,” Sanjay said, “I’m thinking about switching to Architecture. That’s my first love.”
I glanced across the table at Zack, but he was already reaching for his phone, swiping at the screen and tapping away with both thumbs. His text arrived a few seconds later:
My first love is architecture!
I texted back: My second is sucking cock!!!
Zack snorted and we bumped fists across the table.
“Guess what Sanjay got on the Math SAT?” Dylan asked.
Nobody wanted to know, so the question just sort of floated away. Sanjay looked as relieved as the rest of us.
Will glared at Dylan. I don’t think he was mad. He just had one of those faces that looked pissed off a lot of the time. You couldn’t really blame him, I guess. He’d been one of the best high school linebackers in the state, heavily recruited by Division 3 schools, but he blew out his knee in the season opener of his senior year, and that was that. Full retirement at age seventeen.
“How come he’s not living in the Honors Dorm?” he asked, as if Sanjay couldn’t speak English and needed Dylan to translate.
“It’s too elitist,” Sanjay explained. “I don’t think we should have a separate dorm from everyone else. We’re all one community, right?”
My phone buzzed again. I figured it was Zack, but it turned out to be Becca.
Hows it going college boy
Out w the guys, I texted back.
Miss me?
I was tempted to tell her the truth—nope, not at all—but I took pity on her.
Sure
Can we skype later
going to a party
What time
Ten
How about 9:30 you owe me for this morning!!! Ha ha
I knew this would happen. That was why I’d dumped her in the first place, so I wouldn’t have to deal with this long-distance shit in college. But then last night I’d drunk-sexted her, begging to get with her one last time before I left town. She told me to fuck off, which I definitely deserved. I didn’t remember any of it until she showed up at my house in the morning, and totally ambushed me, in the best possible way. It’s your going-away present, she’d said, kneeling down in front of me and tugging on my boxers. And it was a great blowjob, too—way better than usual—but I didn’t think that meant we were back together, or that I owed her for anything, though I could see how she might feel otherwise.
Luv ya!
*
The pizza arrived—one large pepperoni, one large sausage, and one large cheese—and of course Sanjay turned out to be a vegetarian. We started giving him shit for it, until Dylan explained that it was a religious thing, which meant, according to PC regulations, that you weren’t allowed to joke about it.
“I forgot how much I love pizza,” Will told us. “I didn’t eat any all summer. Couldn’t even look at it.”
“Why not?” Rico asked.
Will shrugged. “I had a bad experience. You don’t want to hear about it while you’re eating.”
But we did, so he told us. The day after graduation, Will had gone to a party at this rich girl’s house, in the biggest McMansion he’d ever seen, with an indoor pool, a home gym, and something like eight bathrooms. The girl had been very clear that there wasn’t going to be any alcohol at the party, so Will had hit the pregame hard, multiple shots of Jack plus a THC-infused lollipop donated by someone’s uncle who suffered from chronic shoulder pain and had an understanding doctor. He had the munchies pretty bad when he got to the party, and it was like he’d walked into heaven—there was this amazing spread of fried chicken, lasagna, barbecue, an honest-to-goodness ten-foot-long sub, tons of great stuff. He’d already sampled a lot of it when the doorbell rang, and a delivery guy walked in with a stack of a dozen pizzas. A crowd had gathered around the buffet table, and one of Will’s buddies bet him twenty bucks he couldn’t eat a large pizza by himself. And not just any pizza. The one they call the Meat Bomb. Will said, Bring it on, bitch!
“No way,” said Rico.
“It was a throwdown,” Will explained.
He inhaled the first four slices like a machine. Midway through slice number five, though, he realized there was a problem.
“You know how it is. You’re feeling good, totally on top of your game. And then, out of nowhere, your stomach just clenches up and says, That’s enough, bro. Do not take another bite. But I still had three slices to go.”
“You didn’t eat them?” Rico said.
“The fuck I didn’t,” said Will. “I just kept shoveling that shit down my throat. But I knew it wasn’t gonna stay there.”
The spectators broke into applause when he finished, but Will didn’t stick around to enjoy it. He pushed through the crowd and made his way to the nearest bathroom, only to discover that the door was locked. He pounded on it a few times, but the occupant told him to wait his turn. He didn’t panic, because there was another bathroom off the kitchen. Unfortunately, that one was really popular. There were five or six people standing in line, and Will couldn’t really talk, which meant that he couldn’t explain his dilemma, so he just turned and headed upstairs, holding his stomach and gritting his teeth.
It was like a bad dream. Every time he found a bathroom, the door was either locked or a bunch of kids were waiting in line. So he just kept moving, hoping to find a toilet before it was too late. It was a huge house, and he pretty much gave himself the grand tour, visiting all three floors before he finally made it to the master bedroom, which was totally spectacular—a huge round bed and a wall that was all glass, looking out on a meadow—though Will didn’t have time to appreciate the view. He headed straight for the bathroom, and Praise the Lord, the door was unlocked. His stomach was already lurching when he burst in there and found himself staring at six of the prettiest girls in his school, all of them in bikinis, sitting in this giant Jacuzzi.
“Oh shit,” said Dylan. “Did you barf on them?”
Will shook his head. “I just gave them this sad little wave, like I was dropping by to say hello, and then I fucking bolted. I barely made it out to the hall, and that was it, the end of the road. I ducked into this little kid’s room. I thought there’d be a trash can or something, but I couldn’t find one, so I just yanked open a dresser drawer, pulled out all the clothes, and puked right in there. That whole fucking Meat Bomb pizza. And then I shut the drawer, wiped my mouth, and got the fuck outta there.”
“Did you tell anyone?” Dylan asked, when we were finally done groaning and laughing.
“Fuck no. What was I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, your little brother might not want to open his pajama drawer . . .”
“At least you took out the pjs,” Rico said. “That was thoughtful.”
“What could I do?” Will had that pissed-off look again. “Eight fucking bathrooms, and I can’t find a toilet to puke in? You can’t blame me for that.”
He shrugged and reached for another slice. Sanjay was just sitting there with his mouth hanging open, like he’d forgotten how to speak.
“Whaddaya think?” Rico asked him. “Too late to get back into the Honors Dorm?”
*
Zack and I returned to the room just in time for my Skype session with Becca. I asked if he’d mind giving me a little privacy.
“No problem,” he said. “I’ll put on my headphones.”
“Think you could maybe clear out for five or ten minutes? Won’t be more than that.”
“Why?” He gave me a sly look. “You gonna rub one out?”
“We just need to have the talk. We were broken up for most of the summer, but then we kinda backslid. I have to let her down easy.”
“Say no more, bro. I’ll go see who’s in the lounge. Text me when you’re done.”
“Thanks.”
I got out my laptop and logged on to Skype. Zack was on his way out when I placed the call, but then he changed his mind and sat down next to me on my bed, just out of camera range, as Becca appeared on the screen.
“Hey, baby.” She was wearing a little white tank top, tight enough to give her some cleavage, which wasn’t easy with her little boobs. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good,” I said. “How about you?”
“I’m okay.” She was talking in a breathy whisper, way more seductive than her normal voice, which could be kinda loud and bossy. “Where are you?”
“In my room.”
She licked her glossy lips. “Are you alone?”
I glanced at Zack, trying to let him know that the joke was officially not funny anymore, but he pretended not to understand. He mouthed the words She’s cute! and pumped his fist up and down over his crotch.
“Brendan?” she said. “Is somebody there?”
I should have just said, Yeah, it’s my roommate and he’s being a dick, but I didn’t want to embarrass him.
“No,” I said. “Just me.”
“I miss you, baby.” She gazed soulfully into the camera. “I’m still thinking about this morning.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That was a really nice surprise.”
“Just nice?”
“It was fucking awesome.”
“Good.” She looked a little bashful, but sort of proud, too. “I watched an instructional video on YouTube.”
That made sense. She’d given me a few BJs in the past, but she was never really into it. She was clumsy and gagged a lot, and mostly just seemed relieved when it was over. But that morning she was a porn star.
“Yeah, you brought your A game.”
“It was a mental thing,” she explained. “I just decided to have a positive attitude. It really makes a difference.”
It was ridiculous—and kind of embarrassing—to be having this conversation with Zack sitting right next to me, but there was nothing I could do about it now except try not to look at him. I didn’t want to know what he was thinking, or how close he might be to cracking up.
“I thought I’d be able to swallow,” she said, “but I just . . . I don’t know. I’ll have to keep working on that.”
“With who?” I said.
Zack made the tiniest sound just then, a single suppressed giggle way in the back of his throat, but Becca didn’t seem to hear it.
“You, you asshole. Unless you want me to find someone else.”
“Practice makes perfect,” I teased.
Zack was waving his hand, trying to get my attention. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, pointing at his dick and mouthing the words I’ll help.
“Hey,” she said, and her voice was normal now, like the sexy part of the conversation was officially over. “Did your mom say anything after I left?”
“No, why?”
“I don’t know. She gave me this weird look when I said goodbye, like she knew what we were up to.”
“Don’t worry about it. She was in a bad mood all day. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Good.” Becca seemed relieved. “So do you like it there?”
“I think so. Just trying to get used to it, you know?”
“Well, if you ever need to talk, just give me a call.” She looked down for a few seconds, so all I could see was the top of her head, that shiny brown hair that always smelled so good. When she looked up, she sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I missed you so much this summer.”
Zack was leaning forward now, into my field of vision. He had this sad clown expression on his face, his bottom lip pushed way out like he was about to cry. I held out my arm where Becca couldn’t see it and gave him the finger.
“I like your shirt,” I told her. “It’s really hot.”
“Yeah?” She perked right up. “I wore it special for you. I’m wearing the red thong you like, too.”
She stood up to show me, pulling down her pj pants and turning so I could appreciate her tight little gymnast butt. Zack was impressed.
“Smokin’,” I told her.
“You should come home for a weekend,” she said. “Or maybe I could come visit you.”
Zack cast a silent vote in favor of the second option.
“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m probably gonna be pretty busy.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
We were quiet for a few seconds, and I knew the time had come to say what needed to be said, to apologize for the way I’d treated her over the summer, and then to explain, as tactfully as possible, that I didn’t want a long-distance relationship, and that we both should be free to hook up with other people if we wanted to. But it was hard to think straight with Zack sitting right there, flicking his tongue in the V between his index and middle fingers.
“All right,” I said. “I should probably go.”
She smiled sadly and nodded. But then she leaned a little closer.
“Hey, Brendan.”
And then, without any warning at all, she lifted her shirt and bra and showed me her boobs, which filled the entire laptop screen. It happened and then it was over. The shirt came back down and I was looking at her face again as she blew me a kiss.
“Good night, baby.”
Zack was punching the air with both hands, silently screaming the word Yes! over and over, like he’d just scored a goal.
“Thanks,” I said. “You have a good night, too.”
*
It was hard to stay mad at Zack. He acted totally innocent, like his eavesdropping on my private conversation was totally hilarious and not creepy at all, a great bonding experience for both of us. And he was really complimentary about Becca and very excited about her pink nipples, which he compared to little eraser nubs.
“Why would you want to break up with a girl like that?” he asked me.
“Because I want a clean slate.”
“Just keep her on the hook. I mean, Jesus, dude. She’s watching how-to blowjob videos on YouTube. That’ll spice up your Christmas vacation.”
“Maybe you have a point.”
“Hey,” he said. “If you don’t want her, send her my way. I’ll give her some expert instruction.”
The rest of the night was kind of a bust. Zack had been invited to an off-campus house party by a friend of his older brother, and it turned out to be a lot farther away than we thought. It took us about a half hour to walk there, and the party was already breaking up when we arrived. Somebody said there was a kegger a couple of blocks away, but we couldn’t find it, so we ended up trudging all the way back to the dorm.
It was on the early side, but we were both pretty exhausted. We brushed our teeth together in the bathroom, then headed back to our room, where we stripped down to our boxers and got into bed. It was like having a twin brother.
I lay there for a while in the dark, thinking that college was probably going to be okay. I knew I’d lucked out on the roommate front, and I was grateful for that. I mean, what if I’d gotten stuck with someone like Sanjay, a kid I had nothing in common with? It would’ve sucked, having a nerd tagging along everywhere I went, being forced to eat with him and pretend to admire his architectural drawings and superhuman test scores. It was so much easier with Zack, a bro who partied and laughed at the same stupid shit I did. I knew my mother would have preferred Sanjay, but she wasn’t the one who had to live with him.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
“What?” mumbled Zack.
“I forgot to text my mom.”
I got out of bed, found my phone, and wrote, College is awesome!!! I figured she was probably wide awake at home, wondering how I was doing. She’d been talking a lot about how sad she’d be after I left, and how hard it would be to get used to living in an empty house.
“No offense,” Zack said, when I’d climbed back into my bed, “but your mom is pretty hot.”
“Dude,” I said. “Seriously. This is not an appropriate subject of conversation.”
“I’m just saying,” he said. “She’s kind of a MILF, don’t you think?”
This wasn’t the first time one of my friends had said this about my mom. She still dressed kinda young, and had a pretty good body for a woman her age. But she was my mom, and I didn’t like to think about her in those terms.
“What about your mom?” I said. “Is she a MILF?”
“My mom’s dead,” he said, in this really sad voice. “I miss her so much.”
“Oh shit.” I sat up in bed. “I’m really sorry.”
“Dude,” he said, laughing at my sadness. “I’m just fucking with you. My mom’s alive and well. But she is definitely not a MILF.”