Beg for Me

Please Tell Me I'm Dreaming

The air smelled of sweat, beer, and hormonal desperation. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to soak it all in. My mother told me to participate when I went to college, to be engaged, to be an active member of the community, and to take advantage of the school'a recourses while I can.

I don't think this is what she meant.

However, at 19 I felt it was alright to bend the rules. Looking around me, I almost wanted to laugh. My first college party looked nothing like I had pictured in my head. I had pictured a marvelous house brimming with drunk students dancing to pulsating music. I imagined empty red solo cups and beer cans on the floor and a slightly smokey ambiance conducive to a seductive atmosphere. This small off-campus housing was nothing compared to the frat mansion I had created in my imagination, an image formed from a collection of bad movies.

Weaving in and out of loosely packed bodies, I made my way to the kitchen. The space wasn't much to look at, with dreadful tope walls and a stained rug. It houses five boys, so I don't know exactly why I was expecting it to be clean. Just looking at the dishes in the sink made me cringe. I slipped around the wooden counter and swiveled looking for a Coors light that wasn't laying on the floor. Suddenly I felt cold pressed against my neck and I flinched, spinning quickly to see my friend Stanley. His goofy grin was always a warm sight, and I laughed as he pulled me into a sloppy hug.

"I'll take that," I chirped, plucking the chilled beer can from his right hand.

"And you don't even say thanks! So typical Rachel," he joked shaking his head in mocking disapproval. His shaggy hair swept across his forehead and stuck out in all directions like a haystack.

"I save my thanks for the important things so they mean more."

"Beer is very important," Stanley whispered huskily. I snorted, popping up the tab and letting the carbonation hiss through the crack.

"Maybe in your sad world." I taunted, then paused to take a sip. When the first drop of glorious college beer touched my lips, and I sighed inwardly. As it filled my mouth, I recognized it didn't taste any different than it did in high school, and yet it was changed. Don't misunderstand me, it still tasted like cat piss, but there was a delicious freedom undertone. It was delectable.

"This party is my sad little world. Would you care to leave it?" Stanley threatened jokingly, gesturing toward the door.

"No no no Stanley. I take it all back. Would you please let me stay," I pleaded sarcastically.

"Only... If you get magnificently, and gloriously wasted." There was that goofy grin again. His blue eyes glinted with mischief and I was reminded once again why I thought that I had a crush on him in the early weeks of the semester.

I met Stanley in my freshman writing seminar, mandated by the school and hated by everyone. We sat next to eachother and I quickly learned his name and other trivial information. Every class we sat together and I got to know him better, like how he didn't even need to be in the seminar, having gotten a 5 on both English AP's in high school. He just wanted to meet other freshman and write. In that instant I thought I liked him, and in the next instant I learned his girlfriend was a sophomore at the university. But Stanley was too sweet to write off as a failed conquest, and soon he became one of my good friends; his girlfriend as well. They made a sweet couple, but their entire situation quietly repulsed me. Who follows their high school sweetheart to college? Why would you even want to date anyone during these four glorious years of freedom?

"Don't tell me you started drinking without me!" Rosie's voice found our ears long before we saw her. There were some strong vocal cords in her tiny 5'2 body. She ran up from behind and jumped onto Stanley's back, wrapping her thin arms around his neck. The two of them were quiet comical together. While I seemed like a giant compared to Rosie, Stanley seemed like a monstrosity, and I often found it hard to believe he was the younger partner in their relationship. She kissed his neck quickly, nestling her chin in the corner of his neck while a sloppy grin crossed her lips. Laughing, I pulled a beer from the box on the counter and handed it up to her.