The Freshman (College Years 1)

This is no big deal.

You’re just going to hang out with him.

Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll kiss him.

But that’s it! That’s all he’ll get from you tonight. Leave them wanting. That’s what my mother used to tell me and Palmer when she talked about boys with us.

I frown. Mom was giving us advice about boys when we were really young. Advice that was probably mildly inappropriate. But what else is new? My mom and dad have never been in the running for parents of the year awards.

When I finally find the frat, I see that it’s busy. Lots of people are still hanging around, and the streets are lined with cars. I park a few blocks away from the house, grateful I didn’t wear shoes with heels. Though if I had, I would’ve berated myself because, oh yes, that looks like I’m trying too hard.

Instead, I slipped Birks on my socked covered feet. Gives me enough of a dressed down look to balance out the curled hair and crop top.

I arrive at the house and see I’m not the only one who adopted that look. Girls in jeans and socked feet with Birks are everywhere. Maybe we all look one and the same. There’s nothing distinct about me, and I’m worried that maybe he’ll find me uninteresting. Though that shouldn’t bother me since there are plenty of other guys on this campus. Lots of cute guys. I don’t know why I’m so hung up on this one.

I stop in the middle of a crowded living room and tell myself to quit the pity party. I am not an insecure whiner. So why am I thinking like one?

Strong fingers suddenly wrap around my upper arm and I stop, turning to find the very boy I’m stressed about standing in front of me, as pretty as I remember him.

Okay, it’s not fair to call him pretty, but he is truly just so flat-out gorgeous that I find myself staring at him for a moment like a starstruck fan.

“You made it,” he says, his deep voice curling around me and making me warm.

“I did.” I smile, secretly hoping he doesn’t let me go.

“You want something to drink?”

I nod. Smile. Stare at him like a dope.

He smiles too, releasing his grip on my arm. “Come on. Let’s find you something.”

Tony rests his hand lightly on my lower back as he guides me through the crowd. I walk beside him, the smile still fixed on my face, and I notice more than a few girls glare at me as we pass. Like they don’t like seeing me with Tony?

I don’t get it.

We go into the back yard and Tony pours me a beer from the keg. I take the cup from him with a murmured thank you and sip, making a face.

It’s warm. Mostly foam.

“Not good?” He asks.

“You try it.” I hand him the cup.

He takes a drink and winces, then turns away from me and pours it out onto the grass. “Awful.”

I laugh. “It’s the thought that counts?”

He tosses the cup in a nearby trashcan. How thoughtful of these frat boys. Usually they’re not so conscientious. It’s red Solo cups and empty beer cans everywhere. “They’re running out of everything. Maybe we could get a shot of something in the kitchen?”

His hand is on my elbow like he’s ready to take me back inside, but I dig in my heels and slowly shake my head. “I don’t need any alcohol. Unless you do,” I add.

“I’ve had enough.” He glances around, his hand still on my elbow, before he returns his gaze back to me. “Let’s go sit over there.”

“Over there” is an empty bench on the far side of the yard, underneath a giant tree. We go to it and settle in, snug next to each other since the bench is small. He slings his arm across the back of it, stretching out his legs, a

nd I feel surrounded by him.

It’s not unpleasant. Not at all.