Against The Wall

Chapter Seventeen

It's New Year's Eve and I'm not so sure I want to go out with Matty tonight after the crap he pulled
yesterday. He had a great time, along with Mel and Tyler, talking crap about how I may have missed out on a real hunk of a man just because of his piss poor choice in beer. I could have choked him.

But who am I kidding? Of course, I want to go out with him tonight. We convinced Ty to stay till the end of break, so he'll be joining us for the festivities this evening too, which happens to be a work party.

Matty and I haven't gone anywhere together publically, where people know who we are. This should be interesting and is sure to create a lot of gossip among our colleagues. Or maybe not. It's not like we're going to walk in holding hands and make out in a corner or something.

Maybe people will assume we're just friends like we've always been. And it's not like we RSVP'd together, as a couple.  Mel actually responded for all of us.

Oh well, who cares? We're just going to go. The four of us. And have a good time. Shit, I totally over think all this stuff all the time.

Chase is going to be there. He hasn't invaded my thoughts all vacation, and now ... Forget it. I'm not going to say anymore.

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"Oh my, you guys look frickin' adorable!" I say to Tyler and Mel, when we arrive at her place to pick them up.

"That's not really the look we were going for," Tyler shrugs. "But we'll take it." He throws his arm around Mel's neck and hooks her in for a kiss.

"Oh, even more adorable," I squeal. Matty makes gagging sounds at my comments. We all let out a
quick chuckle.

When you go to a Pajama Party, there're really only two ways to go. 1) Slutty or 2) Cozy. I always opt for
cozy. There's no way I'm going to go to a party with a bunch of co-workers looking like a prostitute. Plus, we always end up drinking way beyond tipsy and acting ridiculous. I'd rather risk acting like a fool in comfortable clothing where my tits aren't hanging out.

So I'm wearing my typical PJs—cropped jammie pants and a tank. Matty's wearing one of his college tees and some Family Guy boxers, with some boxer briefs underneath—I checked. I don't want his junk hanging out there for the world to see.

Tyler and Mel really do look cute. He's wearing plaid flannel pajama pants—the ones my mom gave him for Christmas—with a wife beater. She's wearing the coordinating plaid pyjama top, which is too long for her but she has some little booty shorts on underneath. They're matching for crying out loud.

What a great idea. I wish I would've thought of it. But then again, I doubt I would have asked Matty to wear similar outfits to a work party.

Like always, we're late. Parking ten houses down and across the street is evidence of that. I think we got lucky with a spot not too far away. Someone must have left and we snagged it before they could get back, because familiar cars line  the road even further from us.

This party is going to be huge. The party is mostly filled with my English department colleagues. Teaching English can really facilitate the need to party. Reading paper after paper written by kids in high school who still can't decipher when to use to, too, and two or who still don't know A LOT is two words is a joke.

Couple that with this insane era of technology and the need for students to write like they're sending a text message or updating their Twitter status can really drive a person to drink. Heavily. Hence, my
well-stocked refrigerator full of beer.

Maybe one day, I'll just have a keg and a beer tap installed in my kitchen. I can totally picture it. A tap
right next to the sink. Or a button on the fridge dispenser: Ice, Cold Water, or Heffeweizen.