Gumby

Oneshot

Erik had no idea why he had come to this house party. It wasn't really his scene, and he'd much rather be home playing video games or at the gym. But his boys had pushed him to come. He was three years in to his undergrad and had yet to get the "full college experience" as they advertised it.

The full college experience was an overly crowded, sweltering hot house party apparently. The saving grace was that the function was predominantly Black, so he didn't have to worry about some white frat boys yelling "nigga" as they oafishly rapped over Kendrick Lamar. He didn't feel like killing anyone tonight.

Not ten minutes in, Erik had stepped his Shadow 1s in something sticky. That was almost enough to make him go home right there. But his friend Rashad handed him a beer and leaned over to yell above the music.

"There's some fine ass women in here!"

Erik scanned the room. It was dark, but he didn't see anyone that particularly interested him. He simply shrugged and took a pull from his drink.

Though he didn't find anyone especially attractive, plenty of women zeroed in on him. He leaned up against a wall as girl after girl attempted to strike up a conversation with him. Always the same thing about where they were from and what they were studying. Erik felt too crowded. The thumping bass made his chest hurt. He didn't like not being in control and he wanted to leave. He looked past the current girl telling him too much about her pre-med studies and searched for Rashad.

He found him in the middle of the dance floor acting a damn fool with some girl who was face down and ass up.

"Great," Erik muttered to himself. Now they definitely weren't leaving any time soon.

Pre-Med girl, still talking and eager to bag herself a man, moved forward to get his attention and accidentally stepped on shoes. That got Erik's attention real quick and his face darkened.

"Yo!" Erik huffed, praying for no scuffs. He pushed by Pre-Med and her apologies and headed towards the kitchen. There was more room to breathe in the kitchen, and the windows were actually open, providing some salvation from the thick heat of horny college students.

It was there that he saw you.

Gorgeous glowing skin and gravity defying hair caught his eye. You were sitting atop the counter and your thighs spread out on the quartz surface. You were surrounded by your friends but you commanded the attention in the room, flashing a brilliantly white smile when your laugh soared above the crowd.

"And I was like, since when do we not like being called Black people? You can say 'Black.' It's not a swear word!" you continued your story to your friends. "POC is an umbrella term. If you're going to talk about Black issues faced by BLACK women, then you need to say 'Black!'"

Your friends hummed in agreement. You reached out for your phone that had been passed around. It seems someone had said something sideways on Facebook. Now THIS was a conversation Erik was interested in having.

Erik was considering the best way to approach you when some other dude did. Erik watched from across the room as this guy slid his hand against the small of your back. You visibly recoiled.

"Why don't you come and dance, ma?" he proposed. He licked his lips and attempted to push you off of your perch. You scoffed and remained seated.

"Do you always touch people without their consent?" you challenged. You didn't appreciate this guy invading your space, touching you, and then trying to drag you away from your friends.

"Nah, it's not even like that. Don't be difficult. My name's Dion. Come dance." He continued to push you off of the counter and you hopped down.

"Well, Dion. I'm not interested," you said. You were reaching the end of your patience.

Erik figured he should intervene. This dude was out of line. He was calculating the best way to get to you across the full kitchen when Dion suddenly grabbed your wrist. You pulled it away just as fast.

"Fuck off, nigga!" you yelled. All eyes were on you, intrigued by the disturbance. Dion realized the new audience and turned to them, puffing out his chest. The pressure of crowds usually worked in his favor.

"That's why I don't fuck with fat bitches!" he announced to the room, attempting to goad other party goers to laugh along with him. Degrading a woman in front of groups of people was tried and true. He'd save face no problem. He was surprised when instead it was you that laughed.

You clutched your sides and threw your head back in laughter. Your friends stood back, a motely of amused expressions on their faces. One hand came up to wave at Deon as you shook your head, curls bouncing. You wiped a tear from your eyes before setting this nigga straight.

"Hoooooo!" you exhaled.

Erik sat back and watched the spectacle unfold. Obviously, you didn't need his help. A sly grin crept up on to his face.

"Oh NOW I'm fat?" you guffawed. "Now that I've rejected your Gumby, string bean lookin ass, I'm fat!"

You weren't laughing now, and neither was anyone else in the room. Even the music seemed to soften. You got in the guy's face and he stepped back a bit.

"This isn't anything new. I was fat the entire time you were hitting on me, you weak ass bitch."

The room erupted, and your harasser slunk away in to the crowd to a chorus of "oooh" and "she called you a bitch, bruh!" People were straight up howling. You couldn't see how ole boy could do anything other than leave the party. If he were smart, he'd leave the campus and not show up to classes on Monday.

Your friends congratulated you for a bit before you excused yourself. You pushed past some people a little more roughly than was necessary and slid out the back door on to the deck.

Erik followed.

He found you leaning up against the railing, visibly tense.

You were seething. You just wanted to live your fucking life without other people feeling entitled to your body, whether sexually or in jest. Yeah, you were confident, but that didn't mean you weren't tired of the constant barrage big girls have to endure. You were tired of aint-shit dudes thinking you were desperate for attention and that you'd accept any way that they treated you. You just wanted to go out and have fun at a college party on a Friday night, but for now you were standing out here.

At least until you regained your composure and could strut back in like the queen you were.

Erik slid the glass door closed. The percussive music was instantly muffled. He moved to stand next to you, leaning against the railing as well.

The two of you stood there quietly for a moment.

"Gumby, though?" Erik snickered.

The two of you burst in to laughter, doubling over.

You laughed for what felt like forever and your sides began to hurt.

"That was the most fun I've had all night," Erik admitted, finally catching his breath. He extended a hand out to you. "I'm Erik. Art major."

The crowd inside cheered as a particularly good song came on. You shook his hand.

"Well, Erik the art major. Would you like to dance?"