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Part 1&2 –
Fourth, the party
The Uber dropped us at the corner of the fraternity row, and the bass was already coming through.
Hannah leaned forward before the car had even fully stopped.
“Oh my God,” she said. “This is packed.”
She was already drunk. She had been drinking vodka cranberry out of a pink Hydro Flask in the backseat, and now she was hanging off Mike’s arm with that loose, reckless energy she got when she was two drinks past caring. Her blonde hair kept catching in her lip gloss. She kept brushing it back and laughing at nothing. Her skirt was too short, her white cropped shirt rode up every time she threw her hands in the air, and the pink SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOYS letters across her chest looked stupid enough to be perfect for her.
Mike looked at her and said, “You are going to be unbearable tonight.”
“I’m always unbearable,” Hannah said. “That’s why you love me.”
Katie squeezed my hand when we got out.
Her hand was warm and a little damp. She was nervous. She was trying to hide it, but I could feel it in the way her fingers kept tightening around mine, then loosening, then tightening again.
“You okay?” I asked.
She looked up at the house, then back at me. “Yeah.”
“You don’t sound so.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just too loud already.”
She had on a black dress that fit close through the waist and hips, and it showed enough when she moved. Her hair was down, wavy past her shoulders. Her glasses were on because, as she had told me twice already, she was not walking into a frat house half blind for the sake of looking hotter in photos.
Behind us, Ron shut the Uber door and straightened his shirt.
He had actually worn a button down. Dark blue. Sleeves rolled once. He looked too put together for the street we were standing on. Jenna was tucked under his arm, already a little tipsy, black hair sticking to her cheeks from the heat of the car.
Hannah pointed at Ron and laughed.
“Look at you,” she said. “You look like a dad.”
Ron looked down at himself. “It’s one button down.”
“It’s an ironed button down,” Jenna said. “But next time you’re ironing it yourself.”
“I iron all my shirts.”
Jenna laughed. “I wish, honey.”
At the door, a pledge with a buzz cut and a neon tank put one arm out.
“List.”
“We’re with Mark,” I said.
“List.”
“I’m calling him.”
The guy shrugged. “Call him.”
He was not looking at me anymore. He was looking at Hannah.
Hannah smiled at him like she was about to cause him trouble on purpose.
“Hi,” she said.
He tried to stay serious and failed for half a second.
I called Mark.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Yo.”
“Yo, faggot,” I shouted. “We’re outside. Your guy’s blocking us.”
Mark laughed. “Of course he is. Hold on.”
A minute later he shoved through the doorway in khaki shorts and loafers, looking smug before he had even spoken.
“Jesus Christ,” he said to the pledge. “They’re with me.”
The pledge stepped aside.
Mark clapped me on the shoulder and looked at the rest of us.
“Hannah, you look so hot.”
“I am hot.”
“I know,” Mark said. Then he gave me a bro fist. “Ready to have fun, Romeo?” and blinked at Jenna.
I looked at him. “The real fun will come after.”
He opened his eyes. Jenna didn’t like it, as she squeezed my hand, but I needed to answer Mark.
He grinned wider. “Welcome in.”
The house hit all at once. Heat. Beer. Sweat. Vape smoke. Cheap cologne. Some girl screaming the chorus of a song she definitely did not know.
“Okay,” Katie said quietly beside me. “This is awful.”
I laughed. “We can leave.”
She looked at me and smiled. “Not yet.”
We got pushed into the kitchen with everyone else. There was a makeshift bar made from a board on top of two trash cans. Bottles everywhere. A bowl of pink punch that looked like a medical risk. Somebody had spilled Fireball and the whole counter smelled sweet and burnt.
Hannah went straight for it.
“Shots,” she said.
Mike caught her wrist. “No.”
She pulled free. “You are not my father.”
She grabbed Fireball anyway and poured into red cups with a shaky hand, spilling some down the side of the bottle.
“Oh, tragic,” she said, then licked the spill off her hand and handed cups out.
Katie took one from her and looked at me like she wanted permission to regret it later.
“Just one,” I said.
“Famous last words,” Jenna said.
Katie drank it, coughed, laughed at herself, then took another one when Hannah shoved it into her hand.
That was when I saw Jessica.
Jessica was a girl from my class, never too astonishing to be noticed, with whom I had hooked up on some occasions in the past, and who Katie always despised — the reason I only found out later.
She was across the kitchen in a denim skirt and a black bralette, hair in a messy bun, talking to some guy from another college that was getting all the attention. Then she saw me and her whole face lit up in a way that made me immediately want to leave the room.
“John,” she said, pushing through people. “Hi.”
Before I could do anything, she hugged me.
It was too tight and too familiar.
By the time she let go, Katie had gone still beside me.
I turned and saw the exact expression Jenna always called her ass face. Mouth closed. Eyes narrowed. Nostrils just slightly flared. Not loud jealousy. Worse.
Focused jealousy.
Jessica smiled at Katie. “And you are?” — pretending not to know the girl she had side-eyed for the past year.
I said it before thinking.
“This is Katie. My girlfriend.”
Jessica blinked once. Then smiled harder.
“Oh. Cute.”
Katie looked at me after Jessica walked off.
Then she bit back a smile.
“I don’t hate the sound of it. ‘Girlfriend.'”
I kissed her on the cheek.
“But,” she said, stepping closer, “don’t let her touch you like that again.”
I laughed. “Noted.”
Then the music changed and Hannah appeared out of nowhere, already moving.
“Dance floor,” she shouted.
She grabbed Katie’s wrist and Jenna grabbed Ron’s hand and suddenly we were all getting pushed into the living room where the furniture had been shoved against the walls.
The room was darker there. Blue and purple lights. A floor that stuck slightly when you stepped. Too many people moving too close together.
Hannah was gone immediately, pressed up against Mike, dancing like there was no one else in the room. Mike looked half embarrassed and half thrilled. But he knew what he was doing. Nothing better to get girls’ attention than to be dancing with a baddie.
Katie turned to me.
She had that flushed, glassy look she got when she was right at the edge of drunk. Her glasses had slipped lower on her nose. A piece of hair kept falling across her mouth and she kept pushing it away.
Then she put her arms around my neck and moved in close enough that I forgot every useful thought in my head.
She looked up at me. “You look really hot in that, you know?”
Since we started dating a month ago, a day after that night with Ron and Jenna, she had taken the time to improve my style, going from button-down shirts inside a sweater to now rocking an open shirt, a tank top and black trousers. Like she was making me the bad boy she felt attracted to, while maintaining the husband material guy. I guess for her it was the best of both worlds in a way.
“Well, I have the best fashion counselor advising me,” I said, grabbing her ass like Jenna had told me to.
She turned, guided my hands to her hips, and leaned back against me. Then she started moving slowly to the beat, and I had to look away from everybody else in the room just to stay normal and not get a hard-on right there.
Next to us, Jenna was dancing with no self-consciousness at all. Ron kept trying to act like he was above it, while Jenna was pressing her butt against him.
Jenna looked over once, saw my face, and laughed.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Look at him.”
“Shut up,” I said.
Katie twisted just enough to look up at me. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Jenna grinned and whispered while pointing. “He’s haaard.”
Katie actually blushed at that, which only made it worse.
Then Ron tapped my shoulder.
“Beer pong,” he said. “Mark’s setting up in the back.”
I looked at Katie.
She stepped away from me and fixed her glasses. “Go.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m getting water anyway.”
“You’re getting more punch,” Jenna said.
Katie smiled. “Maybe.”
Ron grabbed my arm and pulled me through the crowd before I could say anything else.
The back room had a folding table, warm beer in a cooler, and about six guys pretending beer pong was a varsity sport.
Mark pointed at me. “Finally. We needed someone with fear in his eyes.”
Ron handed me a beer. “You’re on my side.”
I twisted the cap off and looked back toward the kitchen.
I could see the girls from where I was standing.
Katie had a cup of beer. Jenna was talking with both hands. Hannah was laughing too hard at something and nearly spilled her drink on herself.
Then Bryan walked over.
I knew who he was. Friend of Jack’s. Same kind of confidence, but Bryan was less confrontational. Same habit of acting like he belonged in every space before he even opened his mouth.
He said something to Hannah that I could not hear.
Hannah laughed, touched his arm, and said something back.
Bryan leaned in. Jenna rolled her eyes. Katie laughed.
Then Hannah slid her hand down his chest and left it low on him, right over his crotch, like it was a joke and a challenge at the same time.
Jenna snorted into her drink.
Katie said, “Hannah.”
Hannah did not move her hand.
Bryan just grinned.
Something in my chest tightened so fast it felt physical.
Because it was not only what I was seeing. It was what it pulled up.
—
**4 months ago**
The club was called Vortex.
Purple sign. Purple lights. Purple wristband at the door. The kind of place that felt proud of being sticky.
It was cold outside and disgusting inside. Too many bodies. Too much perfume. Too much spilled vodka. Music so loud nobody talked, they just shouted directly into each other’s faces and pretended that counted.
We had a booth near the bathroom hall.
Mike was already gone enough to be dancing with somebody he would not remember. Mark was at the bar with his father’s card. Ron had one arm around Jenna and the expression of a man pretending he had not agreed to be there. Hannah was in a silver dress that caught every light in the room. Katie had on dark jeans, a white cropped top, and lipstick darker than usual.
I had a rum and coke in my hand and was trying to talk to some blonde girl from econ who was smiling without listening.
Then I saw Katie stand up.
She took somebody’s hand.
Not Mark. They stopped talking a few weeks ago.
Some other guy. Dark hair. Leather jacket. Smug face.
I watched her let him pull her away from the booth toward the smoking area.
My stomach dropped so hard it felt like a physical fall.
I leaned toward Ron.
“I’m getting air.”
He barely glanced at me. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
I was not.
I followed them.
The alley was cold and wet and lit by the red light over the exit door.
They were against the wall before I had even fully stepped outside.
His hand was in her hair. The other one was down the front of her jeans. She was kissing him back like she wanted him there. Like she had made the decision already.
I stopped walking.
For a second I could not make myself move.
I remember thinking very clearly: *They are leaving together.*
I remember thinking: *He is going to take her somewhere private, then home, fuck her, and I am going back inside like an idiot.* By then I did not know she, like me, was still a virgin. But I also didn’t think she was the type to have one-night stands.
I went back in and started drinking more. Way more.
Tequila. More rum. Beer. Gin. Whatever Mark shoved into my hand.
At some point Hannah was dancing on a bench and Ron was telling her to get down.
I drank more.
Then I was in the bathroom. On my knees. Throwing up until my ribs hurt. I heard somebody outside the stall door.
“John?”
It was Jenna.
I tried to answer and got sick again instead.
“Oh my God,” Jenna said. “Ron.”
A second later Ron was there.
“Move,” he said.
“I’m moving.”
The stall door opened and Ron looked down at me with that specific expression he only got when one of us was truly pathetic.
“Jesus, man.”
“I know,” I said, except it came out broken and wet and barely understandable.
Hannah appeared behind them, leaning into the doorway.
“Oh no,” she said, then started laughing. “He is destroyed.”
I was — wet, from the bathroom water, my puke, probably piss as well.
Ron looked back at her. “Helpful.”
“I’m just saying.”
Mark was somewhere behind all of them, still loud, still drunk. “I can get him an Uber.”
“No,” Ron said. “I’ll take him.”
Hannah pushed forward. “You stay. We’re closing the tabs. Me and Jenna will take him.”
Ron looked at Jenna.
Jenna looked at me, then at Hannah, then back at Ron. “We can get him home.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Ron bent down and hauled me up by the arm.
“Don’t die,” he said quietly.
Then I was outside in the cold between Jenna and Hannah, each of them holding one of my arms while I stumbled.
In the Uber, Hannah kept talking.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Did you see his face when he came back inside? He looked haunted.”
“Stop,” Jenna said.
“I’m serious. He definitely saw something.”
“Stop.”
“Do you think he saw Katie with that guy?”
Jenna was quiet for a second.
Then she said, “Probably.”
Hannah let out a little high laugh, the one that crinkled the corners of her nose.
“He likes her, one can see.”
“You think she’s fucking him? He’s ugly,” Hannah said.
Jenna stood still for a few seconds and then said, “She should. Get over with it. Lose that V card and start enjoying. But she just texted me saying she’s in her dorm already.”
Hannah poked her. “Maybe she’s having some action. Our little bird.”
Jenna didn’t laugh. “Have you ever met a girl that texts her friend right before getting laid?”
Hannah agreed. “She’s wasting her freshman year.”
By the time we got to Jenna’s apartment, I was barely conscious. My eyes were closed and I only heard vague sounds. Jenna and Hannah helped me go to Jenna and Ron’s apartment.
I remember the white walls.
I remember Jenna fumbling with the keys.
I remember Hannah saying, “He cannot lie down like this. He smells disgusting.”
Jenna turned on the lamp. “I know.”
They sat me down on the edge of the bed in the guest room.
“Arms up,” Jenna said.
I tried, but by that point I was more on the other side.
“He’s already asleep,” I heard Hannah mumble, kind of annoyed.
They pulled off my jacket. Then my shirt.
Jenna recoiled. “Oh my God. Yeah, no. Everything has to come off.” She spoke in an assertive voice, no malice at all.
“Oh no, Jenna, please, I don’t want to—”
“What? He threw up on himself. His pants smell like piss. He is not laying like this.”
They took off my shoes. My jeans. Then they pulled off my boxers. They didn’t comment on it before. It was just normal procedure.
The room went quiet for one second.
Then Hannah laughed.
Not a huge laugh at first. One short burst. Sharp and high.
Jenna put a hand over her mouth.
“Hannah,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, already laughing again. “I’m sorry. I just was not expecting that.”
I tried to cover myself. My arms felt heavy and useless. Jenna noticed. “John? Are you okay?” Worried. She put her ear to my mouth and I tried to speak but the only thing was a sound.
“He is not here, I think,” she said.
Hannah looked at me, then at Jenna, and her eyes were already bright with the kind of mean amusement drunk people call honesty.
“It’s tiny,” she said.
“Hannah.”
“It is.”
“Hannah, seriously.”
She leaned in a little, not touching, just looking with the absolute lack of boundaries drunk girls sometimes have with men they do not think can hurt them.
“It’s like a thumb,” she said, then looked at Jenna for confirmation. “Right?”
Jenna was still trying not to laugh.
“I hate you,” she said, which in that moment meant *yes*.
Hannah laughed harder.
“Oh my God, it really is.”
I wanted to disappear. I wanted to stop existing. I wanted them both out of the room. I wanted clothes back on.
Instead I was drunk, half naked, and stuck there while they looked at me like I was something between a joke and an accident.
Then my body betrayed me.
I felt it before I fully understood it, that awful involuntary reaction to being looked at, being exposed, being humiliated. I was getting hard.
Hannah saw it immediately.
“No way,” she said, then laughed so hard she had to sit down on the edge of the bed. “No way. Jenna, oh my God.”
Jenna turned away for one second, laughing into her hand now, shoulders shaking. But she couldn’t hold it.
“This is not funny,” she said, still laughing.
“It moved,” Hannah said. “It actually moved.”
“Stop saying it like that.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. This is crazy.”
I was awake enough by then to understand every word and helpless enough to do nothing about it.
Hannah wiped at the corners of her eyes.
Then her face changed. The laughter stayed, but it got crueler.
“Do you think Katie knows?”
Jenna dropped her hand.
“What?”
“Do you think she knows?”
“Do you think she knows?” Hannah repeated. “Like, actually knows.”
“Hannah, shut up.”
“I’m serious.”
“She’s obsessed with him.” Jenna breathed. “Pretty sure she hooked up with that guy to make John jealous.”
“How would she know, Hannah? Does Katie have X-ray vision?”
Hannah thought about it, and then said, “Well, he does have small dick energy, doesn’t he? But I guess it’s also Katie’s vibe.”
Jenna put her hands on her hips, kind of mad. “Hannah, stop it already.” But then she looked at me, my dick was pulsing, and she gave a small giggle. She said, “Oh sweet Johnny,” and she touched my hair.
“She should know what she’s getting.”
Jenna stared at her.
“That’s disgusting.”
Hannah shrugged. “I’m just being honest.”
Then she looked back at me.
“Does she think you’re bigger than this?”
“Shut up,” Jenna said again, sharper now.
But Hannah was in it. Too drunk. Too pleased with herself.
“You know what’s funny,” she said, talking to Jenna now but still looking at me. “I hooked up with that lacrosse guy last night, the tall one with the scar on his chin. And now I’m looking at this and my brain genuinely cannot process both things existing in the same universe.”
Jenna laughed once despite herself.
“Oh my God,” she said. “That is awful.”
“It’s true.”
Then Jenna, drunk and slipping back into amusement, actually looked at me again and said, “It’s kind of cute, actually.”
Hannah pointed at her. “You are a fucking hypocrite. You always say Ron is huge.”
Jenna was now looking for sheets and answered, “Yes. And I love it. But it’s cute. I like cute, and Katie seems the type to love cute.”
Hannah laughed. “She does. Maybe she should have fucked that guy to learn.”
My face burned so hard it hurt.
I managed, “Please.”
It came out weak.
They both went quiet for a second.
Jenna looked guilty.
Hannah did not.
She tilted her head and looked at me with fake pity.
“Aw.” Hannah touched my cheek, and then moved to my dick, and just gave a little wiggle, which made serious and ethical Jenna burst with laughter.
The blond pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?” Jenna said.
“Nothing.”
“Hannah.”
The flash went off.
I shut my eyes too late.
Jenna stood up. “Are you serious?”
“I’m deleting it.”
“Delete it now.”
“After showing it to Katie.”
Hannah laughed and tucked the phone into her bra. “Relax.”
Jenna did not stop her.
Then they left the room.
Still laughing. Lower now. More tired. But still laughing.
I lay there with no clothes on and the taste of vomit still in my mouth and understood, in the most complete way I ever had, what humiliation could do to a person.
The worst part came later.
Not that night exactly. Later. After.
That night I jerked off five times thinking about Hannah and Jenna watching me naked. I felt disgusting, but I just couldn’t stop.
After that, Hannah never had to say much.
At breakfast the next morning she looked at my plate and said, “Do you want baby carrots or is that too on the nose?”
Jenna choked on her coffee.
A week later on the quad, Hannah saw me from twenty feet away, held up her pinky finger, and smiled like we shared a joke.
If Katie walked into a room, Hannah would glance at me, then at Katie, then bite back a laugh.
Hannah apparently told her, probably even showed her that picture, but Jenna was right. Katie did like cute.
—
Back in the frat house, somebody hit my shoulder with a ping pong ball.
“John,” Mark shouted. “Wake up, man.”
I blinked.
Ron was staring at me.
“You good?”
I looked back toward the kitchen.
Hannah still had her hand low on Bryan. Katie was laughing at something Jenna had said. Nobody was looking at me.
“Yeah,” I said.
Ron did not buy it. “You sure?”
Mark yelled again, “Are you two dating now or what?”
Ron grabbed a ball and handed it to me.
“Throw,” he said.