GAME ON

8

"I'm not rude,
I just have the balls to say
what everyone else is thinking."

The first lecture on Friday morning is Lit Theory, and the professor has divided us into pairs to analyze different classics. And guess with whom I end up with?

Alex fucking Kingston, whom I have established is the biggest jerk on earth.

And it's completely his fault as well, because he is the one that chose the seat exactly next to me. I don't even know why. It's not like he wants to be friends or something. He's made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me.

The feelings are mutual.

Unfortunately, I can't show my misery, because I'm supposed to seduce with him. Although I don't take it that seriously right now, because I will have a better opportunity tonight at the frat party. 

"So, The Great Gatsby," he starts, stating the work we are supposed to analyze. "Have you read it?"

"Of course I have," I role my eyes. "Any spontaneous thoughts on it?" I ask.

I, at least, have a lot to say about the so-called treasure.

"It's a masterpiece, period," he declares and I can only stare at him.

Did he really just indicate that there is nothing wrong with The Great Gadsby?

"You don't agree," he states, reading my thoughts as if they were written on my face.

Well, they might as well have been.

"Well, it's basically just pessimistic criticism of the American dream," I start. "I'm not saying that we can have a perfect world where the American dream will come true and everyone will live happily ever after, but Fitzgerald is just so damn pessimistic. I'm sure a few people developed depression while reading the book. And it's such a guy book," I rant, but Alex only seems entertained.

"I can understand how you'd think it's brutally and unnecessarily pessimistic, but that's kind of the whole point. Like the moral of the story is basically that the American dream is unattainable," he counters. "But why's it a guy book?"

Okay, that was an extremely stereotypical statement. I can admit that it wasn't the best way to phrase it.

" I'm so sorry I insulted your favorite literary piece," I say sarcastically. "But no woman would enjoy reading about Gatsby's destructive cycle of obsession with Daisy. And secondly, Fitzgerald, who isn't even a bad writer, seems to have no clue how to create a good, sympathetic, female character. When you read it, it's so obvious that it was written by a man, and the way Daisy is portrayed is just unbearable." I seriously need to stop this rant. It's not like I hate Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby is simply extremely overrated. "Anyway, we should analyze symbolism and motifs and themes, not just state our opinions."

"Right, let's get to work," he says, dragging a hand through his dark hair.

✍︎︎

I'm surprised to notice that Alex actually seems like a pretty smart man. Most hockey dudes that I've met in the past have had an iQ of about minus four.

The rest of the day passes quickly, first the school ends and then the hockey practice.

I've started talking to a few more of the guys on the team, but Jay remains my favorite. Probably because he's the only one that hasn't made a move on me of everyone I've spoken to, except for Alex the Prick.

But most of the guys at least seems welcoming, not doing or saying anything that suggests that they share the same prejudices as their coach and captain.

I meet Josephine at the dorms, whose already dressed with makeup and hair done. She's wearing a tight, dark green dress that hugs around her body at exactly the right places.

"Wow," I exclaim while entering. "You look great!"

"And you will too!" She squeals as she follows me into my room. "Anyway, I thought I should warn you. This is usually the absolute biggest party of the year, and things might get out of hands. So if you see some people skinny dipping or having an orgy, don't get alarmed. It's just the way everyone are after summer break."

"It's not like I've never been on a party before," I answer her while getting my toiletries to bring to the showers.

"Oh, I know! But you've never been at a college frat party. Or at least I assumed that was the case. Anyway, hurry up and get ready! I want to leave soon!"

I follow her command and shower quickly, then get dressed and do my hair. Since I'm not a big fan of makeup, I only curl my lashes and apply a tiny bit of mascara.

Yes, makeup looks nice, but it's fucking annoying to not be able to scratch your skin when it's itching. And the whole process of removing it isn't fun either.

"Alright, let's go!" Josephine squeals excitedly when I'm done.

We can take her car there since I'm not planning on drinking and will be able to drive back. The drive is a bit longer than I anticipated, but not too far.

When we pull up outside the two-story house, music is blasting through the walls and a few people are hanging out outside the building.

We park on the street outside the house and walk towards the entry, Josephine's heels clinking against the pavement. The door is open so we walk straight in and are welcomed by the most chaotic party I've ever witnessed.