Chapter Five
Seven Years Earlier … First Semester Freshman Year
Halloween is practically a religion in Madison. Not dressing up is strictly a faux pas, and everyone goes out on Saturday night to see and be seen on State Street. The street is closed to traffic and the costumed masses take over. The more creative your costume, the better. At least, for the seasoned pros. As a freshman girl, I followed the unwritten rule: wear something cliché and skimpy. I opted for the angel version. My friends Jessie, Geena, Kerry, and Megan went as a belly dancer, a nurse, a pirate, and a butterfly. We pretty much looked like five exotic dancers on break from the club, but so did most of the other girls on the street.
Matt’s roommate, the infamous Chris, had a disreputable older brother. He was having a house party, and he had given Chris the go-ahead to invite anyone who could come up with five-dollars for a cup. I made the list.
Geena brought a bottle of Malibu rum to my room and the five of us spent a couple hours getting ready for our Halloween debut and drinking.
Around nine, the girls convinced me to call Ben and leave him a nasty message on his machine. He picked up. I hung up.
At nine-thirty I called again, and got his answering machine. My extremely mature message went something like this:
“Hi, Ben, it’s Jocelyn. Um, if—what’s her name?—Kate isn’t with you, I think you should save this message for her later. Did you tell her you slept with me when you came up here? Like, a hundred times? Does she know that? Just checking.”
It was totally immature and stupid, but it felt great. To this day, I hope that he brought Kate back to his room and she heard it.
We hit the street parade right after that, teetering down the street with the rest of the costumed masses. It was crowded and freezing, but the costumes we saw made it worth the trip. One group of about ten guys ran up and down the street wearing nothing but Speedos and water polo helmets. Not very creative, but ballsy.
With Kerry navigating, we found our way to the house party. Wielding five-dollar bills, we gained entrance and found an apartment filled with black lights and fluorescent paint. The walls were covered with some kind of plastic and painted with slogans like “Happy Halloween” and “Go Badgers.” Also a lot of silly doodles, many of which were undecipherable. The black lights filled the room with an eerie glow, and a fog machine added to the gloom. The only incandescent light came from the kitchen, where I knew the keg would be. We made our way to the light like moths. I spotted Chris loitering in the door to the kitchen.
“’Sup, ladies?” he greeted us, checking us out like cuts of meat. “You guys look good.”
He was our benefactor for the evening, so all I said was, “Thanks,” despite the fact that he made my skin crawl.
We took our turns at the keg, filling plastic cups, then moved back into the dark living room. The music was loud and it was hard to talk, so we mostly stood in a rough circle and bobbed to the music, draining our beers. I still hated the taste, but my tongue was pretty numb from the Malibu we’d had earlier in the night, so it wasn’t as bad as usual.
I got nudged in the back and turned. Matt, disguised as a devil, was behind me.
“Hey.” I smiled. “Nice costume.”
“What costume?” he shouted over the music.
I laughed.
“You’re drinking beer,” he noted.
“Trying.” I nodded.
He leaned in to my ear and asked, “You doin’ okay tonight?” He’d been sweet about the whole Ben thing, asking how I was doing every time I saw him.
“Yeah.” I nodded again. “Thanks.”
“Good.”
Chris appeared at Matt’s shoulder and shouted something about “Boat Races.”
Matt looked at us. “Wanna play?”
“What?”
He inclined his head toward the kitchen and I followed, curious. Jessie and Geena followed me. There was a drinking game in progress, involving chugging a beer and trying to flip the cup over on the edge of the table. It seemed pretty stupid, but it was amusing to watch.
“You in?” Chris asked me and the other girls.
I shook my head, but Jessie and Geena were ready to play. I watched for a while before I got pulled into a couple of rounds. I lost both times due to my poor chugging skills, and declared myself incapable. I settled for cheering on Jessie and Geena, who showed surprising skill at the game. At first.
It was only one-thirty when Geena started to look a little green. “I don’t feel so good.”
Chris showed her to the bathroom and I followed with a couple cups of water. I hunkered down behind her while she puked, but I was careful to avoid sitting on the floor. Already sticky and patterned with footprints, I couldn’t imagine putting anything but my shoes on it. Geena wasn’t so picky, and I couldn’t blame her. People kept hammering on the door, but she’d a lot to drink—her stomach seemed bottomless. As soon as she slowed down, I talked her into going outside. She could use the fresh air, and I figured it was better to have her vomit out there than start a riot over the bathroom.
She made it as far as the living room before she sagged against the wall.
“I need to sit down,” she said.
“No, come on, let’s just get outside.”
She didn’t answer, but slumped down the wall, eyes closed.
I looked for Jessie, Kerry, and Megan, but I could only find Jessie. She was tucked into a corner of the couch nearly asleep. I shook her awake and demanded, “Where are Kerry and Megan?”
“They left,” she mumbled.
“Geena’s puking,” I informed her.
She didn’t reply, but made a face.
“We gotta take her home.”
Jessie nodded slowly. “Right behind you.”
I forced my way through the crowd to the spot where I’d left Geena. When I got there, I’d lost Jessie again. It was like herding cats. I growled to myself and hunkered down in front of Geena, giving her a full up-skirt view if she’d cared to look. She didn’t, of course. She didn’t want to see anything but the inside of her own eyelids.
“Are you better now?” I asked.
“No,” she groaned.
“Come on, let’s go outside.” I pulled her to her feet and dragged her toward the door. Outside, I found a dry spot on the steps and directed Geena onto it. “Stay,” I told her, then waded back into the party to retrieve Jessie. She was just where I’d left her, and nearly asleep again. I frowned, wondering how I was going to get them both home.
Leaving Jessie for a few minutes, I looked for Chris and asked him where his brother’s phone was. “I need to call a cab,” I explained.
A guy in earshot started laughing. “Yeah right. You’ll never get a cab on Halloween, honey.”
“I won’t?”
He shook his head. “No way.”
“Shit.” I’d have to take my chances on the street. Hopefully getting Jessie into the cool air would wake her up a little.
I got Jessie to her feet and pulled her arm over my shoulders. She was always taller than me, and in her stacked heels she towered. I took a staggering step toward the door and earned a few less-than-helpful comments on the way out.
“Dead man walkin’!”
“Tim-ber!”
Chris’s brother spotted me and shoved a few people out of the way. “Make a hole, people!” I had a feeling he was more interested in avoiding a spectacular display of bodily fluids in his living room than he was in helping out the little curly-haired angel trying to shove the taller, less steady belly dancer out the door.
Matt was near the door and he rushed to pull Jessie’s other arm across his own shoulders. “Let me help you.”
I was in no position to protest, or even thank him.
“She okay?” he asked when we got outside.
“Hope so. I’ve got to get Geena home, too.”
Geena at least, was on her feet, but hanging over the railing, heaving.
“I’ll help you,” Matt said.
“You don’t have to,” I said.
“I know.” He shrugged.
“Seriously, Matt, you don’t have to leave. I’ll be fine.” Jessie unfurled from my shoulders and slumped against the door.
“Yeah, totally fine,” Matt agreed.
Geena made a particularly guttural sound and Jessie whined, “Gross.”
“Shut up,” Geena said, and then gagged.
“Last chance,” Matt offered.
I sighed. It was no use fighting the inevitable. “I need help.”
“No problem.”
The walk to the dorm, which should have taken ten or fifteen minutes, took half an hour. Jessie kept sitting down and Geena was practically dead weight. Matt did most of the work hefting Geena, which left me with the task of directing the aimless Jessie. She begged to stop walking, to sleep anywhere we would leave her.
“At least she’s not as useless as Geena,” I said, tugging Jessie away from the concrete cover to one of the steam tunnels.
“Hey!” Geena protested.
“I’d rather be Geena tomorrow,” Matt said.
“Why?”
“At least she got it all out of her stomach. Jessie’s got to sleep it off.”
“I think I might—” Geena hiccupped, and Matt rushed her onto the grass, keeping one hand on her elbow, but stepping back to avoid the splash zone.
Jessie took the opportunity to lie down on the sidewalk.
“No, Jess, come on!” I nudged her thigh with my foot. “You gotta get up.”
“I’ll get her in a second,” Matt said.
“Why are you so nice?” I asked. “Don’t you get tired of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re, like, the nicest guy in the world. You’ll help anyone.”
He gave me his “you’re crazy” look. “No, I won’t.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“We’re friends, dumbass.” He patted Geena on the back. “Done?” She nodded and he led her back to the sidewalk. “Why are you helping them?”
“They’re my friends.”
“So why is it okay for you, but not me?” he asked, bending over Jessie to grab her hands.
“I’m cold,” Jessie announced.
“You need to get off the ground,” Matt said.
“Because you’re a guy,” I said as if Jessie hadn’t spoken.
“So?”
“So most of the guys I know wouldn’t leave a party to help a friend get a couple of drunks home.”
“You don’t know many nice guys, do you?” He got Jessie up and set her adrift down the sidewalk, so he could retrieve Geena.
“Ben was nice,” I said. “Before, I mean.”
“Right.”
“He was!”
“Nice guys don’t—” He cut himself off. “Do what he did.”
I winced, but it wasn’t Matt’s fault. I was the one who brought Ben up. “Yeah. I guess not.”
Matt didn’t answer, but he exhaled sharply.
He was right, of course, a nice guy wouldn’t have led me on for the whole weekend, cheated on me with Kate, then cheated on Kate with me, and then acted like I was irrational for being pissed. But, he’d said he didn’t plan it that way, and only two weeks after the breakup, I had to believe he wasn’t a monster. I wouldn’t have wasted my entire high school dating career and my virginity on a monster, would I?
Jessie had gotten ahead of us by half a block, and as we watched, she chose a spot between two bushes beside the agricultural library and curled up for a nap.
“If she won’t get up this time, I’m going to let her sleep there,” I told Matt.
He laughed. “Do you think she realizes that our dorm is right there?”
“Jessie!” I shouted. “We’re almost home! Get up!”
She stirred, surveyed the area, then jumped up. “Home!” Her heels clip-clopped as she broke into a run. I wondered if she had a key with her.
It took us a few more minutes to guide Geena home, and definitely not at a run. We found Jessie sitting in front of the main entrance to Cole Hall when we rounded the building.
“Did you lose your key?” Matt asked.
“No, Geena has it!” she moaned.
Matt used his own key to open the exterior door and the two of us hustled our drunk charges into the ancient elevator. There was no way Geena could navigate the stairs.
“Where’s the key?” I asked Jessie when we were standing in front of Room 213.
“Mmm …” She looked befuddled for a moment, then patted Geena’s hips. “Here!” She pulled up Geena’s skirt on one side, revealing the key safety-pinned to her underwear.
“Smart,” Matt observed, while I unclipped the key and opened the door.
“Oh, bed, bed, bed, bed, bed!” Jessie hummed, climbing up the ladder to her loft. Her clod-hopper shoes dropped off the side after a moment.
I looked up at Geena’s matching loft, and decided she’d be better off on the couch below it. We lowered her onto it and I pulled some bedding down from the loft. Matt put a wastebasket by Geena’s head and looked in the tiny refrigerator. The only available liquid was a Diet Coke, so he left that next to her as well. I unzipped her boots and pulled them off her feet and then we left them to sleep.
“Thanks,” I said when we were in the hall.
“No problem.”
My room was across the hall and two doors down. “You wanna come in?” I asked.
“Where’s Rachel?” he asked.
“Oh God, she’s so lame. She went home for the weekend.”
“On Halloween?” He made a face.
“I know, right?” I rolled my eyes as I turned my back slightly to retrieve my key from my bra, and let us into the room. Rachel had her bed lofted with a love seat underneath, but my bed remained on the floor—being on the second floor was all the height I could handle. Lofts scared me. The bed seemed small as I looked at it, and I was strangely embarrassed. “You want something to drink?” I asked. “I don’t know what I have.”
“I think I need to lay off for a while. I’ve got some serious gut rot.”
I turned from the refrigerator and offered, “Tums?”
“No thanks.” He sat on my bed.
I stood for a moment, unsure of where I wanted to settle. Finally I slid into my desk chair and picked at the clasp on my high heels. “My feet are killing me.”
“Yeah, but you look good,” Matt said.
I rolled my eyes with a smile.
“You don’t have to sit over there,” he said. “I won’t, like, assault you or anything.”
“I know.” I hesitated a moment, then stood and crossed to the bed. I sat beside Matt and let one foot slide over to rest against his. “Thanks for helping me get them home.”
“Sure.” He rubbed at his hairline where devil horns protruded. I could see the spirit gum was ready to give up its hold.
“Your horns are coming loose.”
He smirked. “Is that some kind of pick-up line?”
“Not on Halloween.” I smiled, flicking at his horns with one hand.
He reached up and set my halo bobbling. When he lowered his hand, he brushed it down my arm, reminding me of the time he’d almost kissed me outside the dorm.
“It’s weird to be alone with a guy and not wonder if Ben is going to get jealous,” I said. Alcohol always brought out the spirit of confession in me.
“Kind of ironic that he’s the one who cheated on you, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” I frowned down at a scab on my knee. I’d nicked myself shaving. “Asshat.”
Matt let out a surprised bark of laughter. “My great-grandmother was from Ireland, and when she really wanted to insult someone she called them a muppet.”
I squinted at him. “Did she mean, like …?” I made my hand into a poor imitation of a puppet in action.
“No, but when I was a kid, I thought she did, and it made me wonder what she had against Kermit.”
I laughed. “Then Ben’s a muppet.”
“I take it you haven’t found a conscious frat guy yet?” he asked.
“Shut up.” I shoved at him and he laughed. “I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“So, you’re still looking for a Sorbet Guy?”
My cheeks flushed and I looked away. “Yeah.”
He shifted to scratch at the peeling adhesive of his horns, and his fingers brushed my arm again on the way down, so I turned to look at him.
“It shouldn’t be someone I know, should it? I mean, shouldn’t it be …?” What? A cheap one-night stand?
“I still say you run the risk of needing more Sorbet Sex if you go with a stranger. You don’t know what you’re going to get.”
“But if it’s someone I know, there’s bound to be weirdness between us afterward.” My heart downshifted and revved its engines.
He shrugged. “Maybe. But maybe not if he knows what you’re after from the beginning.”
“And what would he get out of this arrangement?”
“A chance to sleep with a cute girl, no strings attached.”
“That sounds a little cheap.” My stomach got in on the act, stirring with guilt and nerves. I tried to settle it with nothing but will. After all, I hadn’t done anything.
“I may be a nice guy, but I’m still a guy. Trust me, sex is its own reward.”
I laughed, looking up at his horns again before letting myself look into his eyes. He met my gaze without hesitation.
“So … are you volunteering?” I asked.
His eyebrows lifted. “I am merely discussing a hypothetical situation with you.”
My heart did a Tokyo drift maneuver into my throat, making it hard to swallow. Was I seriously considering this? Was he really offering, or was it truly a hypothetical situation? On the other hand, what did I have to lose? I could probably get back my original, wobbly lab stool from that guy if I wanted to. I licked my lips. “Are you sure it won’t be weird?”
“It won’t be weird. We need each other to pass chem.”
Relief quelled my stomach, but my pulse was happy to have a reason to stay in overdrive. “I thought you were merely discussing a hypothetical situation.”
“Oops.” He grinned. “Right.”
The date rape pamphlets didn’t have any information about how to get a guy into your pants. Damn him and his keep-your-hands-where-I-can-see-’em nice guy ways. He was going to make me do all the hard work, wasn’t he?
“Would … what …” I paused. It was harder than I thought.
He smiled and looked down at my hands.
“I don’t know how …” I tried to catch my breath, suddenly absent, “… how to ask …”
“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to.”