Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
T
urns out there was one thing worse than showing up to a frat party in your thirties.
Showing up to a frat party in your thirties while intoxicated and wearing the
wrong-themed costume
.
Ethan had mentioned black and white, but I should have known better than to trust someone who frequently read Reddit on his phone during CS lectures instead of following along with the lesson.
Mia, Beth, and I discovered far too late that it was a stoplight-themed party as we approached the crowd of drunk guests.
Red. Yellow. Green. Everywhere.
No black. No white.
As we pushed through the sweaty dancing and swaying bodies near the entrance, we were barraged with questions about our all-black outfits.
It was Mia who came up with the best reply. “We’re a stoplight when you lose power.”
“Ohhh, like a blackout. Very cool!” Someone with sleepy eyes gave us high fives.
And this was why Mia was a think-on-her-feet PR superstar, even when she was plastered. With no smart retort of my own, and repeating what Mia had said to anyone who asked, this was also why I was a fourteenth-year student with no job prospects.
In the far back corner, a DJ was spinning actual vinyl records rather than shuffling a playlist on his phone. He was wearing a Carlthorpe cap and a baggy Rastafarian-inspired shirt that covered all the color bases for the themed party. The bass thundered through the speakers, causing my chest to vibrate. No one else seemed to mind the humming and throbbing effect the music had on their bodies. It wasn’t like I was imagining it: the guy next to me had a full cup of beer and it sloshed in his hand.
We got only as far as the front room before coming to a full stop. No one was moving at all, which wasn’t only bad socially, but it also led to stagnant airflow. Not ideal for a house reeking of beer/cologne/perfume/BO. Were Greek parties always like this? I didn’t have many data points from my past for comparison.
I turned to ask Mia if she’d had her fill of frat fun so we could abort this mission, and instead encountered a girl in a fitted green dress who shoved a red Solo cup full of frothy room-temperature beer into my hand. “Really clever costume!” she admired.
“They say black is the new red-yellow-green!” Ethan shouted, sliding up behind me in his Elvis-esque white jumpsuit. “I’m so sorry I told you the wrong theme. Would it help if I told you I was color-blind?”
I cocked my head. “Are you?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “No, but I also don’t want you to be mad at me.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It could have been way worse. You could have said ‘noblemen and wenches’ and I would have believed you. Wearing black or white is no big deal.” And if I was going to be honest with myself, wearing all black never failed me. Black was flattering. Black hid things. The last thing I needed was to dress like a walking highlighter, bringing attention to my lumps, ridges, and squishy spots.
“Normally if you wore all black you’d be hard to find, but in this sea of greens, yellows, and reds, black actually stands out,” he joked.
Standing out at a frat party was definitely
not
what I wanted. I needed to blend in—if anyone dared to tag me in photos online or dug into my past and exposed my current whereabouts, it could end my author career and any future job prospects. I’d be canceled in a heartbeat with the headline “LILY LEE IS A LIAR AND A FRAUD,
AND
SHE GOES TO FRAT PARTIES.” And they wouldn’t be wrong.
He took a large step back and spun around. “I’m wearing the wrong thing too, so I didn’t get the memo either. Or maybe I did, and I jumbled the message from PJ.”
I smirked. “White is tricky and hard to pull off, but you wear it well.”
Beth looked around, taking slow sips from her cup. “Whoa, it’s so colorful here. Like the Lithuanian flag!”
“Like the
what
? Why do you even know that?” Mia cackled.
“Why do you not?” Beth said, dishing it right back with a laugh.
“Are you two friends with Lil? I’m Ethan.”
“Beth. I’m her roommate.” They shook hands and she turned to me. “Why does
he
get to call you Lil?”
Mia narrowed her eyes in my direction. “Yeah, I’ve never been able to call you
Lil
.” She said to Ethan, “I’m Lily’s friend from home, here for the weekend.”
“Shoot, I forgot, she wants to be called Lily.” He grinned. “Was she always a CS whiz? She’s singlehandedly boosting our group grade.”
“Single-handedly? Is she now?” Mia asked suspiciously, crossing her arms.
I took a sip of beer. “I’m not half-assing anything this time. I’m full-assing all the way.”
Mia looked at Ethan and Beth. “Is full-assing a real thing? What the hell does ‘half-ass’ even mean? It makes you wonder where idioms and phrases are derived from. I was an English major, if you couldn’t already tell. What are you two majoring in?”
Beth and Ethan said “Psychology” at the same time. Then they had a side conversation about their classes while I whispered to Mia, “Can we go now? We can’t even get far inside the house. We’ve been in this doorway area for, like, ten minutes.”
She lifted her chin. “You’re right. But I have a plan.”
“What?”
Mia shot me a wicked grin. “Follow me!”
Going around the outside to the back of the house was
far more challenging than any of us thought it would be. First, it involved moving single file while shimmying sideways, because the wooden fence alongside the property was maybe a foot and a half from the building at most . . . and it had splinters, which I found out the hard way. Second, there was something that resembled an air conditioner that was not only on, and blowing heat upward, but it was also blocking us so we each had to climb over it. And finally, because I was wearing a skirt and was too intoxicated for fine motor control, the whole crawling-over-the-blowing-device-while-air-shot-upward plan turned out to be a disastrous mistake. One that my friends could not unsee.
I tried to pull the fabric down while Mia and Beth helped me off the hot metal air box. Luckily the one person around who didn’t see me was Ethan, who was too busy making his way straight toward the back patio, where snacks and drinks sat on top of a green Ping-Pong table. He ran toward them, arms outstretched, like he was reuniting with a long-lost relative at the airport.
“Wait, where’s my beer?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to see if I’d left it behind me.
Mia said, “I have it. Or had it . . . I chugged the whole thing, hoping to flush out that image of you Marilyn Monroe–ing it, with your skirt flapping everywhere, but I think I need more alcohol.”
Ethan erupted into a cheer. “We did it! There are chips! And a keg!” The relief in his voice made it sound like he
had been stranded on an island and a crate of supplies had miraculously washed ashore. “I’m in heaven!” he swooned.
Grabbing two cups of beer filled to the brim, Ethan handed them over to Mia and Beth.
“What about mine?” I closed my eyes and the patio went spinning. “Never mind.”
While the others drank, I pointed to the house next door. “Is that another Greek house? If not, they must haaaate all this.” My hand flopped back and forth. “All this. Stuff.”
Mia grabbed my shoulders. “Girl, it’s only nine o’clock. We had only two drinks each! Get it together!”
Ethan handed me a cup of kettle chips. “This might help soak up the alcohol. Oh heyyyyy! PJ’s here!”
He pointed back toward the house, where PJ emerged from the back door, wearing a Tribe Called Quest tee, red pants, and a wide drunken smile. “You came!” He ran up to Ethan and me and went in for a group hug, not realizing he had a cup in his hand and was pouring some of the liquid contents onto my shoes.
I frowned at my beer-tinged boots. “At least it isn’t open-toe-sandal season.”
Beth nodded. “Or real suede.”
A few guys came over to ruffle PJ’s hair. Two of them wore baseball caps and the other guy wore a terry-cloth sweatband with the Sigma Mu emblem. Within seconds, a large pack of partygoers made their way onto the patio. The instant swell triggered my rapid breathing as I looked for
a quick exit. The house was farther away now that we had migrated toward the back corner of the deck.
“I . . . I need to leave,” I whispered.
Mia took one look at my face and knew I wasn’t joking. She asked PJ, “Can you get us out of here? Lily doesn’t do well with crowds. Or enclosed areas. Or party people.”
A few heat lamps were turned on, and the air on the covered patio became warm and ripe with sweat and beer stench. I swiveled my head to find a faster way to escape. Going through the house would be bad in terms of the number of bodies per square foot. Squeezing down the side of the house again was tricky, because it involved intoxicated climbing and, of course, flashing people. But of my two options, the flashing way out was the better one.
From behind, PJ grabbed my shoulders and steered me toward a nondescript section of the fence. “Push.”
I pushed.
It opened.
A magic passage.
Within a matter of seconds, we were on the other side of the barrier, on an adjacent lot. Floodlights around the property all flicked on at once. A small dog barked at the window of a charming two-story Craftsman. When I waved at the pup and shouted, “Hi, puppy!” it quieted down and wagged its tail.
PJ laughed. “That dog hates everyone. I’m impressed.”
Ethan groaned as he ran his hands along the fence. “Shit! Can we get back in? I left my chips and drink.”
“It’s hard to see the hidden opening, just keep pushing
and pulling. This property we’re on used to be a sorority, and this secret entry between the two houses is well known among the Greek community.”
While Ethan continued to feel up the wood slats to rescue his beer and snacks, I said to PJ, “Thank you for the quick exit. It was too much for me.”
PJ nodded. “No problem. Thanks for showing up tonight. Grace had an orchestra performance, so she couldn’t make it.”
“Awww, look!” Beth pointed at the window. The dog was no longer there. In its place was an eerily familiar judgy cat. Furry face with a black masquerade-like mask. Piercing eyes.
“Hey, Lily.”
I gasped as Jake walked down the driveway. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.
He pointed at the house. “That’s where I live. And that’s the guard cat, Bandit, who is a much happier kitty now after her oral surgery. And technically, you’re trespassing, so I think the more important question is, why are
you
here? And why are you and your Charlie’s Angels entourage dressed like you’re going to burgle me?”
“Holy shit! Jake Cho.” Mia threw her drunken arms around him. “Lily told me you were her TA, but seeing you in 3D makes it way more real for me.” She jumped back. “Damn, you filled out. You been hitting the gym?”
Jake chuckled. “Mia, wow. I have been, actually, thanks for noticing. They have a great rock-climbing wall at the school fitness center now. I didn’t know you were back at Carlthorpe too. Are you back on campus for Lily’s book project?”
“What book project?” Mia asked, ignoring my telepathic pleas to keep quiet. “I’m just here for fun.
She’s
the one who didn’t graduate, not me.”
Searing heat flushed my cheeks and neck, sobering me right up.
Shit.
Jake’s brows knitted together. “I see. So this means you’re the chaperone? Are you the only graduate in this group?”
Mia shot me an apologetic look, realizing she’d disclosed too much. “Oh fuck. Sorry, Lily.”
Ethan jumped into the conversation, if that was even what it was. It was more like a Lily roast. He looked over at the cup of beer in PJ’s hand. “Heya, TA! Just for the record, I’m Gen Z but drinking age. So is PJ. We’re twenty-one. Not like Lily and her friend.” He held his hands up. “No offense to anyone here.”
Beth chimed in, “Hey now, I’m young, I’m twenty-two.” Her eyes darted back and forth between Mia and me, then she glanced over at Jake. “No offense.”
Jake smirked. “No offense taken. Don’t let my hair make you think I’m way older than everyone by fifty years. I’m the same age as Lily and Mia.”
Beth’s cheeks turned bright pink as she took a final sip from her red Solo cup. “Thank goodness you’re not my TA, I’d be embarrassed by this entire encounter. Imagine seeing your teacher at a frat party.” She shot a look at me.
Oops. Sorry, Roomie.
I sat flatly, “Well, now that we’ve all acknowledged the ancient elephant in the room, and it’s true that I still don’t
have my college degree, this would probably be a good time to get going. Sorry about barging onto your property, Jake . . . er . . . Jacob.” I grabbed Mia and Beth by their elbows and tried to steer them in the direction of the street.
Beth wriggled out of my grip. “For the love of Taylor Swift. No more talking down on yourself like that, Roomie. No, ma’am!”
Mia nodded. “For once, I actually agree with Beth about something. But that ma’am thing stings a little.”
We looked over at PJ and Ethan, who had abruptly left to figure out how to open the hidden door on the gate.
“You know we can just walk around the front now that we’re on Jake’s property, right?” Mia noted.
PJ nodded. “Yeah, but the drinks are just on the other side of this fence. If we go through the front, it’s like you died in a video game, you lost a life, and have to start all over again. The final level is just”—he rammed his shoulders against the fence—“over. Here!” The door finally budged a few inches, which was all they needed for reentry. “Who wants to go back?”
Beth raised her hand. “Me!”
Mia looked at me. “Should I stay with you?”
I shook my head. “You go with them. Honestly, it’s okay. I can get home.”
“Okay, I’ll report back any fun findings. And I promise not to bring anyone back to your room.” Mia grinned and joined Beth just before they disappeared to the other side of the fence.
This left me alone with Jake, along with his voyeur dog and cat, both of whom were staring intently at us from the window.
The floodlights surrounding us clicked and the entire yard fell into darkness.
“I—I should get going.” I positioned my feet toward the closest streetlamp, the only light source other than party fairy lights lining the top of the neighboring fence. “See you later.” I shuffled my feet toward the road, moving carefully so I wouldn’t trip or fall in the dark.
“Wait.” Jake grabbed my arm. Electricity coursed throughout my body as his hand made contact. His touch was familiar, but also felt different, with a new firmness to it. As my eyes adjusted to a shadowy nightfall, I could see Jake stepping closer to me.
“So, you didn’t graduate?”
Although I didn’t owe him any answers, I did feel bad for misleading him before, especially since he’d been offering reconciliatory gestures over the last week. Now he knew why I was back on campus. I bowed my head and nodded.
“Who cares if you didn’t get your degree? Plenty of people don’t finish college and do just fine. Plus, you’re an author now and have a consulting business. Who gives a shit, especially now?”
My shoulders slumped. “Well,
I
give a shit. I’m taking my STEM requirement for my degree, which is new by the way, and I’m auditing a stats class hoping to be let in eventually, and taking one other class elective just in case, to fulfill the rest of the coursework to complete my degree for real this time.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.” The softness in his voice relaxed me. “I respect you so much for doing this though. And I’m glad you’re back. And they are too.” He pointed at the window, where his pets stared down at us.
I smiled. “Thanks, Jake.”
His hands hovered near my shoulders, like he was deciding whether it was okay to hug me. At that moment, I wanted to feel his touch again, to let him rest his strong hands on me and stroke my skin with his thumbs, like he did when we were together, just to see if the intimacy we shared all those years ago had any staying power.
Here, in the darkness, Jake and I had bent and twisted the principles of time to bring us back to our past selves, with the two of us alone, exploring each other. Even though it was hard to see, I tried to fix my gaze on his face and study it. I knew Jake so intimately back then. The angles of his face. The slight dimpling of his chin. The texture of his thick hair. Had so much time passed that we were basically strangers again?
I placed my hands on his chest, but then I wobbled and stumbled back a few steps, dragging him along with me as I clutched his shirt, bumping my backside into the driver’s-side door of the black Mazda SUV parked in his driveway. Being pinned against a car by a hot guy on a beautiful night was never something I thought would actually happen to me, but here we were.
He whispered, “Lily.”
Then, “Please don’t go.”
Those three words sent me free-falling backward to over
a decade earlier, teleporting me to a specific place, date, and time: the last moment I saw him, on the main walkway of campus, people swishing by and going about their day while we somehow moved in slow motion.
But it was me, not him, uttering the words “Please don’t go.”
Urging. Imploring. Pleading.
Please. Don’t. Go.
Squeezing my eyes shut tight brought me spiraling back to the present. I peered through my lashes at Jake, who had chosen to leave me all those years ago. I remember how he looked that day: his skin flushed, his breathing rapid, unable to look me in the eyes. A typical physiological reaction to stress. And when he had to make a game-time decision, he went into fight-or-flight mode.
And he fled.
My gaze fell to the ground. Dropping my hands to my sides, I flicked my eyes over to the street. “I . . . I better go. This isn’t a good idea.” I added, “We can’t do
this
again.” I wasn’t just referring to the present situation. I was taking into account our entire history together, because our past did, in fact, matter.
After I left Carlthorpe, it took years to fully overhaul my emotional well-being. It was a complete rebuild after being taken down to the bare studs. Was being with Jake now worth risking all of this progress? Because now that I was in my thirties, and aside from the whole setback of going back to college, I had rediscovered happiness. Was I better off in his company? Or was being self-partnered the best
thing for me right now? Could I grow and flourish around him like I did on my own?
Maybe I wasn’t emotionally equipped enough to get rejected all over again. Break my heart once, shame on you. Break my heart twice, well, I have only myself to blame, right? How could I possibly offer him my heart a second time . . . I was disillusioned to think he would choose me over everything else. It wasn’t in his nature.
No. I wasn’t brave enough for any of that. And adding the complication of Jake being my TA, any sort of relationship between us would be unprofessional and forbidden. What needed to happen next was clear.
I took a large step away from Jake. “I’m going to head home now.”
The floodlights flicked back on, temporarily disorienting me and blinding both of us.
When my sight was restored, I could see Jake looking at me with regretful, soulful eyes. “Wait, I have my priorities straight now. Lately I’ve been—”
I cut him off. “I need to go. Goodbye, Jake.” I turned my back to him and walked to the street.
He sighed. “Bye . . . Lily.”
We bid our sad farewells again, like we had all those years ago.