Frat House: Part One

The house wasn't necessarily small, but it was definitely crammed beyond normal capacity. I didn't see any of the guys from the bar upon walking in, but they now appeared much older in comparison to the group of 18 year olds who were playing video games in the living room. They looked at us, surprised for a moment, before focusing back on their game. Jessica lead the group into the kitchen. The dishes in the sink were over flowing and the old tile floor had clearly gone months, if not years, without being cleaned. Guh-ross. Since the kitchen was deserted, we remained there for a moment.

"Should we leave?" Jessica asked, wrinkling her nose.

"I do feel kind of out of place," I honestly replied. "But it's up to you guys." I was willing to hang out for as long as possible.

"Well, let me text the guys and see where they are," Jessica said as she whipped out her phone.

We stood silent in the kitchen. A short, scrawny kid in a football jersey walked in and gave us a weird look as he grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge without saying a word. This definitely wasn't the most exciting Frat house near Hofstra. I guessed most of the kids I saw so far were sophomores. Maybe all the others were at a different house for a party or at a bar?

"They're on their way back," Jessica said. "Let's at least hang out with them for a little."

We all agreed to stay. I suddenly felt myself yawn even though I tried to hold it in. It's not that I was bored. I just find myself getting prematurely tired sometimes. Didn't my body get the memo that I'm 23 years old, not 83? My ex boyfriend, Mike, used to tell me I had 'grandma syndrome' because I was always so tired and I liked to drink tea in bed by seven during the week. Does anyone else feel the real struggle? Just me? Okay, then.

The guys arrived back within twenty minutes and they had a bottle of cheap vodka in hand. I was glad to see it was still sealed before they opened it to pour us all shots. It burned going down and it made me flashback to post final celebrations.

We hung out in the kitchen, loudly chatting as younger fraternity boys walked in and out, giving us weird looks. Jessica chatted with the original guy who gave us the address. He totally was not Jessica's type, but for some reason she seemed entertained by him. Just when you think you have someone figured out. Go figure.

I had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, so I excused myself and wandered through the disgusting corridors of the house. I felt a slight buzz and it made me happy.

Once I found the bathroom, I was somewhat surprised that on a scale of one to ten, it was only about a seven in grossness.

I squatted on the toilet seat without allowing my legs to touch the seat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breathe. A week ago, I was in a relationship. How was I here? I shook my head and tried to forget those kinds of thoughts. I could only move forward. I was almost done when my heart stopped at the sound of the door opening.

"Occupied!" I screamed like an obnoxious middle aged woman. It was the only thing I could think to say as I looked up to make eye contact with the guy who obviously did not hear me. He was a tall, lanky kid with brown curly hair and thick, black framed glasses. He let out a surprised gasp as he quickly shut his eyes.

"Uh, I, sorry," he muttered as he went to leave without opening his eyes. He knocked into the door frame with a loud 'thunk.' I cringed. It sounded like it really hurt but I couldn't exactly walk over to help him. This situation just needed to end.

He fumbled his way out of the bathroom. Once the door was closed, I quickly grabbed a handful of toilet paper and cleaned myself up. I grabbed hand sanitizer from my wristlet and drenched my hands in it. I was mortified at the experience and just wanted to be back in the kitchen. As soon as I opened the door, though, my visitor was standing out there, rubbing his head.

"Uh, hi," he said to me with one eye open. Before I could respond, he followed up with, "I'm so, so sorry."

I defensively put my hands up. "No, no, I'm sorry," I said. "Are you okay?"

A small smile formed on his lips. For the first time, I realized that he was kind of cute, in his own young, hipster way. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He stopped rubbing his head for a moment and put out his hand. "I'm Steve."

I smiled and took his hand. "Caroline. Nice to meet you."

He smiled again. "Eh, wish I could say the same," he said, pointing at the bump on his head. It didn't look like it was too bad, but it would definitely hurt for the next day or two.

I cringed again. "I thought I locked the door," I insisted.

Steve waved his hand at me. "Yeah, it's broken. Don't sweat it, I just didn't realize the guys were having people over today."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess you could say it was kind of an impromptu gathering."

Steve nodded. "That's cool," he replied. "I hope they're doing a good job entertaining you."

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it's okay. That cheap vodka goes down tough." I saw a look of shock form on his face. "What?" I asked.

 "You didn't actually accept that kind of treatment, did you?"

"I'm not that particular about free booze."


That was all it took for Steve to insist I follow him down the hall.