On the way to the city I called Spencer to tell him I’d be heading in. Even though he’s in his second year of college and probably won’t want to go to a frat party, I thought maybe he’d want to meet some new people since he just transferred to NYU at the beginning of the year. Spencer is studying with a Master in Physics and Mathematics and thought attending a college in New York would be a better outlet for him to begin his career when he graduates. He just stays at the dorm rooms within the college; but they are surprisingly nice and completely contrast to the “typical college cells”. Spencer said he’s got a massive study cram so might not be able to make it, but I am welcome to come over later when the party dies down. Well, that won’t be happening because I will be leaving within the first two hours.
I remember when I first started dating Spencer. The summer holidays after he graduated and my going in to my second last year. We had seen each other around before and spoken a couple of times, but never got to know each other until I ran into him at the senior bonfire post formal. I was on the canteen committee, and I almost tripped over him while taking out the garbage. He was sitting on the ground, cigarette in his hand and smoke clouding the lenses of his specs. He still had his graduating sage wrapped around his waist. He was pondering over a notebook with a pen tucked behind his ear. I asked him why he was around the back and not enjoying the fire, and he answered with a quip about the statistics of students that die around fires. I sat beside him and we talked for hours about ourselves, everything and anything, until we heard the screeching of tyres in the distance, announcing that the event had concluded. It was safe to say I was permanently removed from the Student Committee.
After that, we ran into each other again at a bookstore and we exchanged phone numbers. We became close over the summer, until he left for college at Stamford. With me residing in Waterbury, an hour’s drive to Stamford, we saw each other mainly on the weekends. Sometimes he would not take classes for the last couple of days to come up and surprise me. When he told me he was transferring to NYU, completely out of the State, I didn’t know what to think. Of course I was incredibly thrilled for him, but I couldn’t help to think what would become of our relationship. It has managed to work for the few short months he’s been there, but a 2 hour drive means we would see each other even less than we already were. Fortnightly, perhaps longer.
“Almost there”, Willa sings. The radio is blasting through the speakers and the windows are rolled down. She lolls her head out the window to scream the lyrics of a song. The lady in the car next to us glares at her. We are stuck in traffic.
After ten minutes we exit into a side street and follow the music until we turn a corner and are faced with the largest house I have ever seen. The street doesn’t follow out, the only exit is from the way we came, into the mouth of the city. I can see the campus behind the house, slightly elevated on a hill in the distance. There are pathways on either side of the house, leading behind into what I assume is the campus.
The rest of the street is lined with fraternity houses, some brick, some pink, and some even labelled with Greek letters. Thin streams of music are heard from inside some of the houses, the grass is littered with red paper cups and silhouettes dance behind the curtains. But nothing can compare to the absolutely wild, erratic commotion that is going on at the end of the street, the party we are invited to.
Multi-coloured lights fill the complete outside of the brick mansion that is protected by a flourish of toilet-paper covered, neatly trimmed trees. We pull up a few houses down beside a quiet house. I can feel the heavy bass of the music pushing against my chest, and my regrets of wearing a low-cut top deepen. Willa pulls the handbrake, takes a deep breath and fixes her makeup in the mirror before turning to me for a look of approval.
