S.M. ✦ Gin & Juice

I.

The house was practically vibrating from the inside. Music was blaring so loud you could clearly hear every word to every song. People would burst out the front door every few minutes to smoke or get some air. You stood on the porch and contemplated the reasons it would be best to leave: 1) this party was practically drowning in alcohol and you were not 21, and 2) social anxiety was a real bitch.

The only reason you were here at all was because your roommate dragged you here, then immediately ditched you outside when you got nervous about all of the people. She said it was time to "live the college experience" and "get the hell out of the dorm." Maybe you liked your dorm. Maybe you liked feeling safe. Your college experience was supposed to be getting an education and then getting a good job so you could support yourself. This felt frivolous.

The door opened again and your roommate came out of the rave sure to be happening inside, alarm registering in her eyes. "Where have you been?! Come inside!"

"Caroline," you whined, "I really don't want to be here." She grabbed your hand and started for the door to the house. You followed, dragging your feet the entire way.

"Will you stop acting like a child? I'm about to introduce you to some people so you'll maybe make some friends and talk to someone other than your mother!" she screamed at you. You stopped in your tracks, breathing shallow and trying to control the tears threatening to fall. Caroline didn't understand what it was like. Being at college felt like a thousand people staring at you all the time. A million sets of eyes just waiting to watch you fail. It was exhausting on a level that blowing off steam at a party wasn't going to just fix.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean that. I just want you to get out and enjoy where we are a little." She was backtracking, and she really did look like she cared about your well-being. You decided to just go with it. She could lead you around this party and make her introductions, then you could go back to your dorm and crawl in bed until class on Monday. Caroline's "college experience" be damned.

Your body slacked and let her lead you through the door. Inside, it was maybe less of a rave than a really smoky, smelly concert. Like an all-ages venue that drew in the under-18 crowd and their friends who were in bad alt-rock bands. Not quite the EDM show you thought you were hearing outside.

There were about a hundred thousand people packed into the two-story house. Caroline pulled you through the crowd, hand wrapped around your wrist like an elementary school buddy system. She jerked you around the corner, leading you both toward the kitchen, when you ran into a wet wall, jostling you out of your own world.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" the wall shouted over the music.

Not a wall. A person. A boy. A very tall boy. A very tall boy with wall-like abs that were pressed against your body. A very tall boy with wall-like abs who had spilled his beer all over your shirt.

You slowly craned your neck upward and almost fell over. This boy had the most gorgeous brown-hazel eyes you had ever seen. They were looking at you, puzzled at your apparent lack of functionality. He swivelled his head then, searching for something or someone, "HEY GEOFF!?! CAN YOU BRING ME A RAG OR SOMETHING??"

He had stepped back from you, assessing the damage, and held you at arm's length by the shoulders. His hands wrapped seemingly all the way around your upper arms and you could feel his calloused fingertips scratching your skin through the thin cotton shirt you wore. He kept looking into your eyes, pleading with you to say something, but you just couldn't. His face was mesmerizing—a smooth, square jaw; cherubic, alcohol-flushed cheeks; the straightest, whitest teeth you'd ever seen; and a messy head of thick brown curls, coiffed into a perfect disarray. He'd stunned you into silence and the touching wasn't helping. He seemed to be transferring body heat through his fingertips and you were starting to sweat.