Chapter 22
When we got to the frat house, it was suspiciously quiet, especially after how noisy it had been the night before. Apparently Isaac meant it when he said it really was going to be a smaller get-together. We let ourselves in; the front door, as always, was unlocked. For guys who got as pissed as they did whenever something trivial got stolen from their house, they never really seemed to take any precautions. Once someone stole all of their dishes, and I wasn't claiming to have any knowledge of the perpetrators, but Lucy came home that same night with more forks in her bag than usual.
We passed what I assumed was supposed to be the dining room, but instead of regular dining tables they had set up beer pong tables. I had a fuzzy memory of being in that room the night before, but I had no idea for how long or who I was with. There were four guys around one of the tables. They had dragged a kiddie swimming pool full of ice and Natty Lite into the dining room.
"Hey ladies," one of the burlier guys said. He looked familiar and I was sure I'd met him several times before, but I could never remember his name.
"Hey, Boner," Lucy supplied. Of course. Boner. Why couldn't I ever remember that?
"You girls want to play?" Boner asked.
Caty, Dora, and Lucy nodded, took off their coats, and walked over to one of the other tables. I kept my coat on.
"Hey, can you tell me where Isaac is?" I asked Boner, since his was the only name I knew.
"I think he went to go see his girlfriend," he answered. I sighed.
"Yeah, that was a while ago. I'm sure he's come back by now."
"Oh," Boner said. He threw the ping-pong ball at his opponent's cups and missed. "Maybe he's in his room."
"Thanks for all your help." Boner. Jesus Christ.
"No problem," he said. He threw another ball and, this time, he made it. He yelled and pumped his fist in the air, then ripped his shirt off and ran around the table swinging it over his head. I rolled my eyes and walked up the stairs. The huge mirror at the top of the stairs that had been fully intact before last night's party was now splintered and there was broken glass all over the landing. I hopped over it and continued down the hall, stepping over pizza boxes, beer bottles, and piles of clothes. I examined the bathroom as I walked by and hoped I wouldn't have to pee all night. As usual, the floor was littered with toilet paper and torn up magazines. Someone had torn all of the stall doors off and thrown them in one of the showers. Someone else (or, maybe the same person) had sprayed "Eat Me" on the mirror with shaving cream, and then emptied the shaving cream can in one of the sinks. One of the toilets was shoved full of toilet paper and water was seeping down the sides. I thought that even if I did have to pee later I'd be better off going outside.
As I turned the corner, I peeked into Harrison's room. Harrison was kind of a running joke with everyone I knew, only he didn't really know it. He was one of the goofiest people I'd ever met, but he took himself so seriously. He walked like a duck, with his toes pointed far out to the sides, and had a really high-pitched, nasaly voice, but he was always trying to talk about the AIDS problem in Africa or bitching about the liberal bias of the media. Not many people could stand to be around him for more than five minutes. Also, we were all wondering if he was gay or not. Most of us suspected it, and there was even some evidence to it, so we were mainly just waiting (in vain, it seemed) for him to come out.
When I looked in his room, he was passed out on his futon with his arm thrown over his forehead and his mouth wide open. He was wearing some sororities t-shirt (most likely stolen) and the Dixie Chicks were blasting from his stereo. I didn't know why he was passed out so early, but I suspected it had something to do with the empty beer cans he was lying on and the bong sitting on the table. I remembered that I'd brought my camera with me and I was in the middle of taking a couple of pictures when I heard my name. I turned and saw Isaac behind me, smirking and looking like he was trying to hold in his laughter.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
"You don't need to whisper," I said. "I don't think he's gonna wake up."
"You're probably right," he said, taking my arm and pulling me out into the hallway. "But what exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Taking pictures for the yearbook," I said. Isaac smiled.
"You're not on yearbook."
"Well, not yet," I said, eyes wide. "But once they see these pictures they'll be begging me to join!"
"Sneak," he laughed. I twined my arm in his and grabbed his hand.
"Oh, you love me," I said, instantly wishing I hadn't. Why was that word popping out of my mouth today? My face was burning and I could tell I was blushing. I looked up and Isaac was staring back at me.
"You're right," he said. "I do." He kissed my forehead and I grinned.
"Well," I announced. "Now that that's settled, what's this I hear about a party?"
Isaac laughed and pulled me into his room, closing the door behind us.
We passed what I assumed was supposed to be the dining room, but instead of regular dining tables they had set up beer pong tables. I had a fuzzy memory of being in that room the night before, but I had no idea for how long or who I was with. There were four guys around one of the tables. They had dragged a kiddie swimming pool full of ice and Natty Lite into the dining room.
"Hey ladies," one of the burlier guys said. He looked familiar and I was sure I'd met him several times before, but I could never remember his name.
"Hey, Boner," Lucy supplied. Of course. Boner. Why couldn't I ever remember that?
"You girls want to play?" Boner asked.
Caty, Dora, and Lucy nodded, took off their coats, and walked over to one of the other tables. I kept my coat on.
"Hey, can you tell me where Isaac is?" I asked Boner, since his was the only name I knew.
"I think he went to go see his girlfriend," he answered. I sighed.
"Yeah, that was a while ago. I'm sure he's come back by now."
"Oh," Boner said. He threw the ping-pong ball at his opponent's cups and missed. "Maybe he's in his room."
"Thanks for all your help." Boner. Jesus Christ.
"No problem," he said. He threw another ball and, this time, he made it. He yelled and pumped his fist in the air, then ripped his shirt off and ran around the table swinging it over his head. I rolled my eyes and walked up the stairs. The huge mirror at the top of the stairs that had been fully intact before last night's party was now splintered and there was broken glass all over the landing. I hopped over it and continued down the hall, stepping over pizza boxes, beer bottles, and piles of clothes. I examined the bathroom as I walked by and hoped I wouldn't have to pee all night. As usual, the floor was littered with toilet paper and torn up magazines. Someone had torn all of the stall doors off and thrown them in one of the showers. Someone else (or, maybe the same person) had sprayed "Eat Me" on the mirror with shaving cream, and then emptied the shaving cream can in one of the sinks. One of the toilets was shoved full of toilet paper and water was seeping down the sides. I thought that even if I did have to pee later I'd be better off going outside.
As I turned the corner, I peeked into Harrison's room. Harrison was kind of a running joke with everyone I knew, only he didn't really know it. He was one of the goofiest people I'd ever met, but he took himself so seriously. He walked like a duck, with his toes pointed far out to the sides, and had a really high-pitched, nasaly voice, but he was always trying to talk about the AIDS problem in Africa or bitching about the liberal bias of the media. Not many people could stand to be around him for more than five minutes. Also, we were all wondering if he was gay or not. Most of us suspected it, and there was even some evidence to it, so we were mainly just waiting (in vain, it seemed) for him to come out.
When I looked in his room, he was passed out on his futon with his arm thrown over his forehead and his mouth wide open. He was wearing some sororities t-shirt (most likely stolen) and the Dixie Chicks were blasting from his stereo. I didn't know why he was passed out so early, but I suspected it had something to do with the empty beer cans he was lying on and the bong sitting on the table. I remembered that I'd brought my camera with me and I was in the middle of taking a couple of pictures when I heard my name. I turned and saw Isaac behind me, smirking and looking like he was trying to hold in his laughter.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
"You don't need to whisper," I said. "I don't think he's gonna wake up."
"You're probably right," he said, taking my arm and pulling me out into the hallway. "But what exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Taking pictures for the yearbook," I said. Isaac smiled.
"You're not on yearbook."
"Well, not yet," I said, eyes wide. "But once they see these pictures they'll be begging me to join!"
"Sneak," he laughed. I twined my arm in his and grabbed his hand.
"Oh, you love me," I said, instantly wishing I hadn't. Why was that word popping out of my mouth today? My face was burning and I could tell I was blushing. I looked up and Isaac was staring back at me.
"You're right," he said. "I do." He kissed my forehead and I grinned.
"Well," I announced. "Now that that's settled, what's this I hear about a party?"
Isaac laughed and pulled me into his room, closing the door behind us.
posted by Jennie at 10:47 PM
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