The Rules of Attraction

SEAN The party is starting to end. I get to Windham House right when the last keg is being tapped. The deal in town went okay and I have some cash so I buy some weed from this Freshman who lives in the cardroom in Booth and get high before coming to Thirsty Thursday. There’s a Quarters game going on in the living room and Tony is filling a pitcher with beer.

I ask him, “What’s going on?”

“Hey Sean. Lost my I.D. Pub’s out,” he says. “Brigid’s got the hots for that guy from L.A. Wanna join in?”

“It’s okay,” I say. “Where’s the cups?”

“Over there,” he says and goes back to the table.

I get some beer and notice that this hot-looking Freshman girl with short blond hair, great body, that I fucked a couple of weeks ago, is standing near the fireplace. I’m about to go over and talk to her, but Mitchell Allen’s already lighting her cigarette and I don’t want to deal with it. So I stand against the wall, listen to REM, finish the beer, get more, keep my eye on the Freshman girl. Then some other girl, Deidre I think her name is, black spiked hair that already looks dated and trendy, black lipstick, black fingernail polish, black kneesocks, black shoes, nice tits, okay body, Senior, comes over and she’s wearing a black halter top even though it’s like forty below in the room and she’s drunk and coughing like she has T.B., swigging Scotch. I’ve seen her stealing Dante in the bookstore. “Have we met?” she asks. If she’s joking, it’s just too dumb.

“No,” I say. “Hi.”

“What’s your name?” she asks, trying to keep her balance.

“It’s Peter,” I tell her.

“Oh, really?” she asks, looking confused. “Peter? Peter? That’s not your name.”

“Yeah it is.” I’ve still got my eye on the hot Freshman but she won’t look over here. Mitchell hands her another beer. It’s too late. I look back at Dede Dedire whatever her name is.

“Aren’t you a Senior?” she asks me.

“No,” I tell her. “Freshman.”

“Really?” All of a sudden she starts coughing, then sips her Scotch, actually downs it, and says, her voice raspedout, “I thought you were older.”

“A Freshman,” I tell her, drain my cup. “Peter. Peter the Freshman.”

Mitchell whispers something in her ear. She laughs, and turns away. He keeps whispering. She doesn’t move. That’s it. She wants to leave with him.

“Like, I could’ve sworn your name was Brian,” Deedum says.

I consider the options. I can leave right now, go back to my room, play the guitar, go to sleep. Or, I could play Quarters with Tony and Brigid and that dumb guy from L.A. Or, I can take this girl off-campus to The Carousel for a drink, leave her there. Or, I can take her back to my room, hope the Frog is gone, get stoned and fuck her. But I don’t really want to do that. I’m not into her all that much, but the hot-looking Freshman has already left with Mitchell and I don’t have any classes tomorrow and it’s late and it looks like the keg’s running out. And she looks at me and asks, “What’s going on?” and I’m thinking Why Not?

So I end up going home with her — she’s dumpy but horny, from L.A., her father’s in the music industry but she doesn’t know who Lou Reed is. We go to her room. Her roommate’s home but asleep.

“Ignore her,” she says, turning on the light. “She’s insane. It’s okay.”

I’m taking off my clothes when the roommate wakes up and starts freaking out at the sight of me naked. I get under D’s blankets, but the roommate starts crying and gets out of bed and D keeps screaming at her, “You’re insane, go to sleep, you’re insane,” and roommate leaves, slamming the door, sobbing. We start making out but she forgets her diaphragm so she tries to put it in, squeezing the foam all over her hand but not getting any into it and she’s too drunk to know where to put it. I try to fuck her anyway but she keeps moaning “Peter, Peter” so I stop. I’m thinking about throwing up but do some bonghits instead, then flee. Deal with it. Rock’n’roll.