12:02 AM. I glance at my phone in the midst of writhing bodies drenched in highlighter paint. Welcome to a Skidmore rave.
We had arrived at 11:15, and already, my body was dragging with fatigue. I had pulled an all-nighter the previous night (stayed up til 7:15 AM) and had slept until three. Unfortunately my body wasn’t taking it well.
I motion to LaQuisha. I’m gonna go. She nods and goes back to dancing.
When I walk outside, the warm air greets me. My heels click against the pavement while I gaze up and take in the beautiful weather mother nature has bestowed on us (because, of course, she will soon smite us and give us snow).
A few unheeded thoughts cross my mind; I shoo them away before I have too much time to think about them.
Throngs of people pass me in the opposite direction. The night is still very young, and they’re down to party. All I can imagine is cool darkness and a lofted bed. Aaaah.
I am coming nearer to my dorm building’s door when I see three guys dressed in plaid, cigarettes ablaze (what a very typical statement of a Skidmore student). With my black boots on and a body-hugging dress on underneath my jacket, I feel my hips sway more.
The center guy on the bench, looks up and smiles at me. “How you doing?”
“Not too bad,” I laugh, “What about you?”
I shoot them a look of surprise, “You guys aren’t going to Falstaff’s?”
“We’re heading back over soon.”
His friend pipes up, “It’s his birthday, you know. He just turned nineteen.”
I turn my eyes towards the brand-new nineteen year old. “Happy Birthday.” I am struck with a thought. A stone-cold sober thought. “Did you get a birthday kiss?”
He friend answers for him, “I gave him one before, but I am his roommate, so it’s not the same.” The three of them burst out cackling.
I go in for the kill. “Would you like one?”
He raises his eyebrows. If you must, they seem to say.
I walk over, bend down and lay one on him. His friends hoot and holler behind me. They can’t believe it. Hell, I can’t believe it.
His tongue tastes like sweet cigars, with a bitter edge. Sexy.
I pull away, give him a devilish grin and walk upstairs.
Happy Birthday, Sam. 😉
Copyright Megan Hennessey 2011