Beware of Love in Technicolor (35 page)

“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled, and my knees felt it. It had been a while since I had kissed a boy, and he was looking good. Damn good. I reminded myself that I was single and free to do whatever I wanted at this party. And whoever.

“Listen,” he said, leaning in even closer, and holding my elbow. “If you need a place to escape to tonight, feel free to use my room. I’ve closed the door to the general public, but...,”

“I’m on the list?” I asked, doing my best to flirt. I batted my eyes a few times, and gave him a big, coy smile.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling back. “You’re definitely on the list. Now, you need a cup and a beer. Come with me.”

Taking my hand in his, Ben began to push the partygoers aside with friendly smiles and mild chitchat. It was like Moses parting the seas, only Moses could not have done so in such a charming manner. Nobody seemed to mind being pressed up against the wall to let him through. They all just smiled and soaked up his attention, no matter how small or insignificant.

On our way down the stairs to the basement, we met up with John, who was on his way up. Out of force of habit, I quickly dropped Ben’s hand, but not before John saw.

“You made it,” he said to me, while meeting Ben’s eyes in some sort of weird, Alpha male thing.

“Yeah,” I answered a bit nervously.

“I’ll go get you that beer,” Ben said, giving John and me a moment to be alone at the bottom of the stairs.

“Can we talk for a minute?” John asked, and began opening the door to his bedroom. The stairs were crowded with people making their way to the kegs being manned in the back of the wide open basement. I followed him into his room, and noticed his bed was made and he actually put away his clothes. I tried to imagine what the inside of his closet must look like, and laughed.

“What?” he asked, finally turning to face me.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“All business, now, huh? Is that how it is?” He smiled at me, that Cheshire cat smile that once intrigued me, but now sent shivers down my spine. What did he want? What was he up to?

“Your hair looks good,” he continued. “You make a good redhead.”

“Thanks,” I said, still guarded. Still waiting.

“You having fun?”

“We just got here.”

             
“Who’s we?”
              “Me, Topher, Gwen, and Patrick.”

             
“And Ben?” he baited, trying to throw it in there. Trying to throw me off guard.

             
“Was just getting me a beer,” I answered smugly. “What is it you want?”

             
“Well, I just wanted to let you know that Abby will be here later tonight, along with my friend Randy, from high school. I thought you should know. I don’t want things to get hairy.”

             
“Don’t flatter yourself, John. She can have you.”

“We’re just good friends.”

“Whatever,” I answered with a shrug. “Is that all?”

“So, we can’t still be friends? We have to have this attitude between us?”

I realized, when he said that, how tense I had become. I relaxed a little, and tried to smile. When I was about to answer, his door flew open and into the room poured Topher, Gwen, Patrick, and Ben, holding two beers. He handed one to me, and the tension in the room seemed to slip out the window. More and more people flowed into the room, some I knew, some I had never met. I drank my beer quickly, and was surprised when I looked down into an empty cup.

             
“I need another drink,” I announced loudly, to nobody in particular.

             
“Me too!” Gwen squealed, grabbing my hand and pulling me up out of John’s desk chair. We left the boys in the room, and ventured out into the crowded basement. I couldn’t believe how many people had shown up. It was only 10pm, and already there had to be more than a hundred people in the house.

             
The band, Scar Tissue, was just starting to play, and as it turned out, Gwen had a little something of a crush on the drummer, so I at least understood why she had wanted to come to the party that night. The band regularly played frat houses around campus, though they were starting to branch out to off-campus parties where it took longer for the cops to show up.

I had never pictured Gwen as a groupie.

              After three beers, I was more than willing to get out in front of everyone and dance. Gwen and I took front and center, with other people falling in around us within a few minutes. As I danced, I noticed Abby standing in a far corner, looking at home among the other creepie-crawlies of a dank dismal cellar. John, Abby, and Randy, all standing up against a wall, looking like they were waiting for dental work. Except for John. He looked like he was waiting for something else.             

At one point, I looked to my right just in time to see Ben approach me. I smiled and he actually started dancing. And he was good, too. No flailing arms or under
bite or anything. He kept it simple, stayed on the beat, and was so sexy I had to close my eyes and shut him out a few times. A man who can dance is incredibly seductive. It might be the confidence it takes to be out on the dance floor, but whatever it was, I found myself wondering what sleeping with Ben would be like. And then I realized it was probably the first time I had thought about sex with anyone other than John. I had thought about kissing lots of boys, but getting naked with them was a whole new fantasy.

             
“Hmmm,”
I thought as I danced only inches from Ben.
“Maybe my sex problems were never mine. Maybe they were John’s.”
The thought was liberating.

             
After ten minutes or so, I was ready to take a break and get myself a new beer. Gwen was in the zone, eyes locked with the drummer, so Ben and I faded into the back of the basement and slipped under the bar. For the first time since hitchhiking to their house, I stood face to face with Jared, and Wayne. Aaron, was, as usual, nowhere to be seen.

             
“Greer!” Jared said loudly, giving me a giant hug. Wayne smiled, but did not hug me.

             
“Hi guys,” I said. Honestly, I had no reason to be mad at them. They had done their job as guys. The Code, and all that.

             
“I’m glad you came,” Jared said. He looked me up and down. “Looks like we know who the winner is. You look good, Bennett. Getting dumped agrees with you.”

             
“Thank you,” I said, noticing a slight slur to my words. “You’ve all been so nice.” I fished around in my pocket and pulled out my baggie. “Would anyone like to smoke a little?”

             
Three sets of red-rimmed eyes lit up. They followed me upstairs and into Ben’s room. We even picked up Patrick and one or two others along the way. Once there, we all relaxed a bit in the relative quiet behind closed doors. I handed my bag of weed to Ben.

             
“Can you make something happen with this?” I asked him with a flirty smile.

             
“I can roll a joint with it,” he said. The others perked up at the “j” word. I nodded my approval.

             
“Come here,” Ben said to me, waving me to his side at his desk. “Do you know how to roll a joint?” he asked me.

             
“No,” I answered.

             
“Sit down,” he instructed, pulling me onto his left knee. He turned into the desk, and began teaching me the fine art of rolling a good joint. I still remember the lesson, and not getting up from his lap when we were done.

             
I also remember how strong and fit his entire body felt underneath me. How his arms, tanned even in April, were toned and rippled slightly when he moved. How his hand felt as he became more daring in its placement on first my knee, then the inside of my thigh.

             
We passed the joint around, each of the guys savoring it as they inhaled deeply and exhaled with silly, smiley expressions on their faces. And for a while, I completely forgot about the fact that somewhere, in the same house, John was with Abby.

             
Ben, being the kind of guy he was, kept a mini-fridge from his days in the dorm in his bedroom, stocked  with beer, water, and orange juice. So we were all able to hang out for quite a while, talking and listening to the sounds outside the door. His hands kept exploring, one on my thigh, pressing harder as he rubbed my back with his other hand and whispered in my ear.

             
“You smell good,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose in my hair, right behind my right ear, and inhaling deeply. “I love what you are wearing,” as he traced his finger along the back of my bra, visible under the black lace of my shirt. I closed my eyes and leaned back into him. I attempted to will all the others out of the room, but no such luck. When I opened my eyes, they were all still there, oblivious to us, but still there, nonetheless. I leaned into him, and whispered in his ear.

“I love how t shirts look on you,” I said in my best, husky voice while running the edge of his t shirt between my fingers. My hand barely grazed his
stomach underneath. He gave a hoarse laugh. “No, really,” I said, feeling drunk and carefree and single and brave and horny all at once. It was its own drug, though fueled by marijuana and alcohol and hormones. The proverbial ticking time bomb didn’t have nothing on me. “You look good in the most basic items. Jeans, t-shirts,” I continued, no end, no point, in sight.

“You should see me in boxers,” he whispered, his hand reaching lower between my thighs. I sucked my breath in and resisted the urge to kiss him.

“Or in nothing at all?” I whispered and laughed and couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth. I felt like I was under a spell, sitting there on his knee, him holding me there tightly. I felt powerful and desirable and it had been a long time since I had felt any of those things.

He growled in my ear, which for some reason I found incredibly sexy, the way I could hear him up close, but could not really see him, only out of the corner of my eye.

“I’ve waited a long time for this, for you,” he started, still whispering in my right ear.  He trailed off when somebody called his name out somewhere else in the room. It gave me chance to sit up straight and gather my composure and remove his hand from my leg as I stood up.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his eyes wide, ignoring the question somebody had for him about some ski trip he had taken some time, somewhere.

“I’m sorry,” I said, smiling down at him. His blue eyes were wide, his hands reached up and held onto my hips. He held me against his knees. His hair hung down and hid half his face, but I could still see his lips.

“No,” he said with a wicked smile. It was hard to resist. He was impossible to resist.

“I have to,” I whined, “ I have to break the seal.”

“Don’t do it,” Patrick warned from his perch in the corner.

“It’s all over once you break the seal,” Wayne’s blonde chippie added.

“I know,” I agreed, nodding my head dramatically. “But it’s been four beers, and it’s time.”

***

Leaving the quiet sanctuary of Ben’s room, and stepping out into the chaos of two hundred twenty year olds tying one on was like stepping through the wardrobe into some drunken Narnia. Two different worlds.

Almost immediately upon stepping into line for the less offensive of the two bathrooms, I found myself face to face with Abby. She was still a frightful looking thing, even after four beers. But her eyes were the most amazing shade of violet blue I had ever seen. I was surprised by that.

“Hi,” I blurted out, too tipsy to censor myself. Even drunk, I hated awkward, quiet moments. “How’s it going?” She just looked away.

I stood there, wanting to tell her what I thought she could do with that gothic attitude of hers, but then I saw Topher talking to someone just down the hall. I met his eyes and we locked on for a few seconds. He was always good for those moments. He continued to nod to the person he was conversing with, but he was all mine in that moment.

I felt myself soften, and turned back to Abby. Knowing that Topher was witness to whatever happened between Abby and me, I tried to be the bigger person. The better woman.

“Look,” I began. She looked at me like a deer in the headlights for a moment, until she steeled herself to whatever it was she thought was coming. “I have no problem with you. For whatever twisted reason, John invited both of us here tonight. I don’t know if you were ambushed by my presence, but I was with yours. I say we make the best of it, and at least be civil to each other.”

Or something like that. I was pretty drunk. But that’s what I intended to say.

And even after that, she completely dissed me. She shook her head, rolled her eyes, and actually said: “I guess I’ll wait to use the bathroom.” And then walked away, leaving me standing there.

“That bitch!” I exclaimed to nobody in particular. The girl behind me in line nodded in agreement.