Frat House: Part Two

I walked into Steve's room. It was smaller than my bedroom at home, with three twin mattresses sprawled out on the floor. I was confused because I always knew Hofstra as a the private school that the richer kids of Long Island went to, especially the ones in Greek life. Why were these guys living as if they were  permanently in a hostel for four years?

Steve quickly found a bottle of Bacardi from a cheap shelving unit near his bed. "I know it's still not the fanciest of liquors, but it's a little better right?" I looked at the half empty (or half full if you're an optimist, which I rarely am) bottle. I wasn't thrilled at the idea of drinking out of an open bottle that this kid may or may not have pre roofied for this opportunity. Call me paranoid, but I've read one too many horror stories.

"I'm actually good," I politely replied. He stared at me for a few seconds with a condescending smirk. He took a swig himself, made a face as he swallowed, and then held it out towards me.

"You sure?" He asked, basically reading my mind. Now that he took a drink from it, I felt safe taking a drink.

"Okay," I replied, taking it from his hand. It still burned going down, but it was a bit more tolerable than the cheap crap the other guys had.

"So, what brings you to this residence to binge drink with my lovely brothers?" Steve seemed to be nice and sincere, but his words came off as a little pretentious.

I shrugged. "You know, just a typical Saturday night." I was still standing, while he was relaxed on his mattress which didn't even have sheets on it. Boys.

"I don't buy it," he said with another peculiar smirk. I would normally think he was a total asshole, but I could tell there was something kind about his strange sense of humor.

"What don't you buy?"

"I don't know. You don't seem like the type who would hang out here." He scooted over on the bed in order to grab his guitar. Once he wasn't taking up the whole bed, though, he patted the spot next to him for me to sit. I slowly complied.

"You mean the 'old' type," I defensively replied. "Exactly how old do you think I am?" While I was only a little more than a year out of college, I began to imagine that this fraternity solely entertained freshmen and sophomore females.

Steve began lightly strumming his guitar without looking at me. "I didn't mean old," he said. "I meant you don't seem super ditzy."

"Um, thanks?" I replied as I scrunched up my face. "I guess you think I'm just 'somewhat' ditzy?"

"No, no. I didn't mean that," he quickly replied. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm just used to seeing half naked, wasted girls waltzing through here. It makes me feel like a total sleazeball just for living here."

I nodded as I looked more around his shared room. The walls were completely empty except for a Bob Marley poster and an out of place, old sheet. It looked like it was moved around a lot, with lots of pins and various holes all around the edges. Maybe the guys used that when one of them had a lady friend over?

"So, where are your friends?" Steve asked.

I quickly turned to look at him. I was so lost in thought that I almost forgot I was having a conversation. "Oh, um, I don't know. I guess I should probably go find them. I'm sorry for keeping you from, uh, the rest of your evening."

Steve actually leaned over and touched my arm. "No, I didn't mean that as a hint for you to go," he insisted. "I mean, if you want to catch up with them I get it, but I'm enjoying your company."

"Nah, I'll hang out," I said. Even though Steve was probably my little sister's age, I was enjoying his company more than I would enjoy standing around in that disgusting kitchen while his friends tried to impress me and my friends. I didn't have any romantic interest in him, but he wasn't being creepy and he honestly didn't seem to be that romantically interested in me.

"So really, what are you doing here?" he asked with a laugh.

I looked down and smiled. Since I was a little buzzed and felt comfortable with this dude, I decided to open up just a bit. "Eh, trying to get over a dude."

"Oh, so there's a gentleman responsible for your presence here." Why couldn't he just talk normal?

"I guess," I shrugged. "But this is also what your twenties are about, right? Going out, getting drunk, meeting people."

"Do it for the story, right?"

I laughed. "Exactly. Do it for the story." We talked for another half hour or so before Steve suddenly asked what time it was as he looked for his phone.

I took my own out of my pocket. "Wow, it's almost three." I was pretty shocked that so much time had passed and was surprised to have zero text messages from any of my friends.

Steve reached for his laptop. "I have to get on Skype in a little while. My girlfriend is studying abroad in France and I usually stay up so I can video chat with her as soon as she gets up."

Ah, a girlfriend. That explains the lack of sexual tension. "That's sweet," I replied with a smile. "Well, I'm going to go catch up with my friends then." Steve and I exchanged numbers even though I figured we wouldn't really keep in touch. When I found my friends, Jessica was making out with the guy she was talking to. I found Darlene and Jessica chatting with a few of the others. Who would've thunk my friends would love the frat boys?