I sighed and considered my first essay of the year. At the top of the page was the statement, "Describe the causes of the American Revolution in terms of political, social and economic factors. Discuss the importance of each on the uprising. Remember to cite your sources." Beneath was a hastily written outline of thoughts, ideas and queries to myself. After a week of reading densely written tomes, scholarly articles and a careful rereading of the course’s text, this was all I had to show.

I stood and stretched. It was my third Friday night at Arizona State this term, and I could hear happy voices and laughter echoing down the halls of my dormitory. I wished I could join them, but I was so overloaded with work that I hadn’t been able to enjoy the finer points of being a college sophomore. It was my own fault. I was taking eighteen credits, six more than required for a full load.

Not particularly eager to resume my studies, I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I contemplated my dripping visage in the mirror. My dark hair was short, my blue eyes were bloodshot and supported by dark circles, and my face was curved downwards in a distinctly unpleasant frown.

My break from studying was interrupted by the sound of a key in the door. My roommate, Tom Hudson, was an old friend of mine from San Jose. I grabbed a towel and wiped my face as the door swung open. "Justin?" his voice pierced the silence of the room.

"Yeah?" I replied, stepping out of the bathroom to greet him. Tom was wearing his omnipresent blue jeans and a black Santana T-Shirt. His hair was light brown and always slightly tussled. A smile was perpetually only his lips, and he wore a pair of round, subtly glasses.

"There you are," Tom replied. He glanced at my desk and saw the pile of books and papers. "Are you still working on coursework?" he asked, incredulous.

I nodded guiltily. "Yeah."

Tom looked at me, disgusted. "Come on, Tom. It’s Friday night. You should come out with us."

For the first time, I noticed that Tom wasn’t alone. Behind him stood two young women. "We’re going to a movie," he announced. "Come on."

"I can’t," I responded. "I’ve got too much work to do."

"You can do it tomorrow," he said firmly. "When was the last time you went out?"

I couldn’t remember, but it was certainly before the term began. He took one look at my face and grabbed my arm. He drug me out into the hall and shut the door.

Two attractive girls smiled at me. One was medium height, with large blue eyes and a thin face. Her skin was pale and clear, and her shoulder length blonde hair was hanging free, with the right side tucked behind her ear. She was a thin girl, with a small, pert chest and slender figure. Her shirt matched her eyes, and she wore tight blue jeans that displayed slender, but still shapely legs.

The other girl had dark hair, dark eyes, and full red lips. She wore a tad too much make-up for my taste, with lavender eye shadow and dark mascara, and a heavy dose of blush. Her shirt was the same shade of red as her lips, and it was one of those bare midriff halters, showing plenty of belly and cleavage. Below was a knee length black skirt. An open, blue denim vest completed the ensemble. Where the blonde was thin and delicate, the brunette was curvy and voluptuous. The brunette had large breasts, a narrow waist flaring out to generous hips. Even their purses contrasted: the blonde’s was small and compact, while the brunette’s was the size of a grocery bag.

Tom gestured to the blonde. "This is Cindy Holmgren and this is Anna Hayes," he introduced the two girls. Tom gestured to me, "Ladies, this is my best friend, Justin Ford."

Compared to Anna, I felt underdressed in my gray t-shirt and blue jeans. I stammered out a hello, and Tom looked at the girls. I checked my watch. It was eight o’clock. It was Friday. What the hell?

* * *

The movie started at eight thirty, and was one of those ninety-minute slasher flicks that felt like three hours. We sat near the back on the side, with Anna next to the wall, followed by Tom, me and Cindy. Anna was definitely into Tom, and I noticed her hand grabbing his thigh repeatedly during the movie.

Though the movie was terrible, it served to break the ice. On the walk to the multi-plex, I got the distinct impression that Anna and Tom were setting me up with Cindy. They kept asking questions of Cindy or I, and we awkwardly responded with simple, one word answers.

As the movie struggled to its long-awaited finale, Cindy leaned over and whispered, "This movie is horrible." Her breath was hot and soft in my ear, and I had to restrain myself to keep from shivering. I managed to nod, and Cindy flopped back into her chair. Next to me, Tom had moved his hand into Anna’s lap and there were distinct movements. They were encased in shadows, and I didn’t exactly want to find out what he was doing. But given the soft moans Anna was trying to conceal, it didn’t take much effort to guess.

The movie ended, and the lights came up, and I noticed Tom regretfully take his hand out from under Anna’s skirt. I quickly looked away, and noticed the Cindy had just turned her head as well. She was blushing prettily, obviously embarrassed by her friend’s behavior.

No one wanted to go home. It was only ten o’clock, and we were all very awake thanks to the sodas we had consumed during the movie. We were, however, hungry. There was a pizzeria that was a favorite of mine a short distance from the multiplex. It was decided we would share a pizza.

With Tom leading the way, and Anna on his arm, Cindy and I walked behind them. Tom and Anna were deep in conversation, leaving us to our own devices. I looked at Cindy, apologetic. "I’m sorry about the movie," I said. "Tom always liked those things."

Cindy giggle, a dainty, musical sound. "Quite alright. Tom didn’t give us much choice."

She looked at me somberly. "I’m sorry about this. I didn’t know they were going to… uh…" she paused looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Set us up?" I finished for her.

She nodded, blushing once more. I decided I liked it when she blushed.

"Don’t worry about it. I had no idea, either," I told her.

At this point, we were pushing our way through a crowd in front of the theatre. People were lining up for late showings. Most of them were college kids, like ourselves, or teenagers enjoying their first tastes of night life. We pushed our way through the throngs of people in front of the theatre and passed down an alleyway between buildings. It was a nice alley, not a dark, dirty place littered with the refuse of the day, but a well-manicured stretch of pedestrian walkway, lined with benches, rocks, and even a strange, gurgling monolithic fountain bursting out of the cement. It was less crowded here, and quiet, and the soft murmurs from Anna and Tom were audible in front of us.

To break the uneasy silence that was developing, I asked, "So, what’s your major?"

It was a lame question, I’ll freely admit. But it was the first and only thing that popped into my head.

"Elementary education," she told me. "What’s yours?"

"General studies, at the moment," I told her. "Maybe anthropology or journalism."

She smiled, and the silence began to develop once more. This was horrible! There was an attractive girl walking next to me, and I had no idea what to say. "Definitely not history," I added. The silence between us had lasted to long, and it sounded almost out of the blue. I wanted to strike my head in the middle of my forehead and say, "Doh!" but I managed to control myself.

"Yeah?" she responded. "I kind of like history. It’s interesting to find out how other people lived."

I nodded. "I’m taking this monster course, introductory history," I told her. "I’ve got this miserable tee-a teaching it. She’s horrible."

She smiled again. "Yeah, my math instructor is like that. He’s from central Asia or something, and has this horrible accent. I can’t understand a word he’s saying."

"Well, I can understand what mine’s saying, but I can’t make heads or tails of what we’re supposed to be learning about. I always did well in history in high school, but man…"

"I know exactly what you mean. I have this chemistry lab that I’m so lost in. I spend all my time studying it, and I still have no idea what we’re doing."

For the first time, Cindy seemed to have relaxed, and she seemed to have lit up. Her whole face underscored each word she said, and she used big sweeping gestures to punctuate her statements. When she was listening to me, her eyes would open wide and her face would become earnest.

The alleyway ended too soon. We arrived back into the mainstream of traffic, where young people and those young at heart were jostling for position on the wide sidewalks of Mill Avenue. Cars were jammed into four lanes, all of them were full of cruising teens, honking and hollering at one another.

In moments, we were safely across the street and were soon walking down University Road. The crowd noise died down, but there was still plenty of traffic rumbling by, so it wasn’t until we reached our destination that we could hear each other again.

The restaurant was a stand-alone building that looked surprisingly old. Not much looked more than twenty years old in the Valley of the Sun, but downtown Tempe had an older feel to it. Mama’s Pizzeria wasn’t an historic building by any means, but it was definitely not a new structure. Inside the dimly lit building were about a dozen booths and a dozen tables, and about half of them were occupied or carried the refuse of past meals. We ordered our pizza and found a booth in the corner.

The booths were delightful. They were tall, wooden things with padded green benches. Into the wood, generations of college students had carved their names or slogans, from the mundane "Go Devils!" to the obscure references to Betty Jane’s well-endowed anatomy. Unlike most college hang-outs, Mama’s was a place you could talk. There were several television sets sitting around, each with the sound turned down low so that conversation could be heard. There wasn’t any loud music nor were there rambunctious drunks or rowdy Greek types.

"What do you think?" Tom asked the girls.

"Let’s wait and see what the pizza tastes like," Anna replied cautiously.

"I think it’s quaint," Cindy declared. "It has character."

"So, was that a great movie, or what?" Tom said enthusiastically. "That Clive Barker really knows how to spin a great yarn."

Cindy and I exchanged knowing glances and struggled to keep ourselves from laughing.

"Well," Anna replied. "I guess if you like that sort of thing…"

Tom looked hurt. "You didn’t like it?"

Anna looked like a deer caught in headlights. She looked to Cindy to help bail her out. Cindy sat at rapt attention, her eyes wide and innocent. Desperate, Anna turned her gaze to me. I just sat there with a slight grin on my face. She looked like she was going to panic. I waited a beat before letting her off the hook.

"So," I began. "Do you think the Devils will win tomorrow?"

A great look of relief spread over Anna’s face. "I hope so," she said hurriedly. "It’s their first Pac-Ten game. Cal’s supposed to be really good."

Cindy had that same wide-eyed expression on her face. She looked like she’d be a mean poker player, the way she kept her face so innocent. "I hear they have a really good quarterback," she added.

"Nah, we’ll crush them," Tom said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. He knew what we were doing, but Tom was a good sport. "Cal always finds a way to lose."

So we chatted about football and drank soda out of our Styrofoam cups until Tom’s name was announced and he went to pick up the pizza. Anna watched Tom as he approached the counter to pick up our food, then she turned back to us and leaned forward. "Thanks, Justin. I didn’t realize how much he liked horror movies."

"No problem," I told her. "I’ve had to put up with it for years."

Tom returned with the pizza and we all dug in. The pizza was delicious, and we all appeared ravenous, because it was several moments before we spoke again.

Out of the blue, Tom announced, "Anna is a psychology major."

I nodded. "That’s nice." To keep the conversation going, I added, "What are you taking this year?"

"Intro to child psych, English one-oh-two, Physics and Spanish," she said. "Thirteen credits. Lots of homework," she looked up from her pizza, her dark brown eyes focusing on me. "How about you?"

"History one-oh-three, physical anthropology, Journalism one-twenty, Chemistry, Computers, and Introduction to Geography," I replied.

"See why you haven’t met him before?" Tom chimed in, with a friendly grin on his face. "Justin, here, wants to graduate in four years."

"I wanted to take Journalism, but I can’t until I finish English one-oh-two," Anna said.

"Justin’s a genius," Tom said slyly. I kicked him hard in the chin. He winced and looked at me, hurt. "Well, you are."

"I am not," I replied. "I just took some a-pee courses in high school."

"Justin’s being modest," Tom continued. "His eye-que is one-seventy-three."

I kicked him again. Hard. That was private.

Steaming, I changed the subject. "What are you taking, Cindy?"

"Psych, Spanish, Chemistry, Computers and Buried Cities and Lost Tribes," she rattled off, obviously mulling over what Tom had said about my IQ. "Your eye-que is really one-seventy-three?"

She was giving me that wide-eyed innocent look, and waiting my response with rapt attention. "Yeah. But eye-que tests don’t mean much," I replied.

"Yeah, but you got a fifteen-twenty-three on your S-A-Tees," Tom added. "And a scholarship to Berkeley."

I glared at him. Tom realized he had said to much.

"Why’d you come here?" Cindy breathed.

"To get away from my folks, I guess," I said, grabbing another slice of pizza. "They live in the Bay Area."

"But… you gave up Berkeley to come here?" Cindy repeated.

I bit into my pizza and nodded.

An uncomfortable silence drifted over the table. I swallowed and turned to Cindy. "So where are you from?"

"I’m from Flagstaff. I wanted to get away from my parents, and A-S-U had a good teaching program, so I came here," she said, still staring at me with amazement.

I nodded. "Why not some place farther away?"

"I had to stay in state." Her earnest face seemed crestfallen, and I decided not to press her.

"How about you, Anna?" I asked.

"Oh, I come from Boulder, Colorado," she replied. "I came here because it sounded nice." She smiled sweetly.

Tom, of course, grew up in the same suburb of San Jose that I did. It wouldn’t do to ask him a question like that. Anna, thankfully, saved me from coming up with another innocuous question.

"So," she said, her chocolate eyes luminous. "Did you hear what happened over at Sigma Epsilon?"

I was never much on Greek life, and didn’t particularly care, but it kept the subject on safe ground. Cindy had her wide, innocent eyes on again. "What happened?" she asked, almost like it was an obligation.

"Well, I overhead this girl in my psych class talking to one of her friends," Anna said, leaning in conspiratorially, "and apparently they had a hot body and wet tee shirt contest going on." She paused, to make sure everyone was listening. "And apparently, it got really wild."

"How wild?" Tom whispered. Any sentence with ‘wet T-shirt’ in it got his attention, and this was no exception.

"Apparently, one girl gave one of the guys head on stage," Anna said knowingly.

Cindy looked aghast, and Tom’s eyes got really wide. I felt heat flush my cheeks.

"You’re kidding?" Cindy stated.

Anna shook her head.

"I could never do that," Cindy said, earnestly.

I could see the gears turning in Tom’s head. "That is wild."

Tom was always thinking with his dick.

"That’s disgusting," Cindy stated flatly, leaning back. "And on stage!"

I grabbed my empty cup, filled it with soda, and downed it. "It’s probably just a rumor. No self-respecting girl would do that."

"I don’t know," Anna said, her eyes twinkling. "I bet it’s true."

"I’m with Justin," Cindy said. "No way. The university would be outraged."

"The university probably doesn’t know," Tom pointed out. "Besides, how could they prove it?"

"Camcorder?" I suggested.

Tom rolled his eyes.

"I bet neither of you have gone to fraternity or sorority party," Anna said.

"Neither have you," Cindy pointed out.

"True," Anna allowed. "But I hear they get really wild."

Cindy sighed and picked up the slice of pizza she had been eating. "You are such a slut, Anna."

Anna glared at her. Next to her, Tom couldn’t help but smile. I almost kicked him in the shin again.

"Anyway," Cindy continued. "Do either of you have a car?"

I nodded.

"Cool," Cindy said, with one of her entire face smiles. "Do you like hiking?"

I smiled. "Love it."

"Great," she said. "Ever been to the Superstitions?"

I hadn’t, and told her so.

"They’re a great place to hike," she told me. "Just don’t get lost up there. People do it all of the time, especially during the summer. Why people hike the Superstitions in the summer is beyond me. They never take enough water, they get dehydrated, lost, and eventually stuck. Then the fire department has to rescue them."

I chuckled politely. I hadn’t yet gone hiking in the desert, but the thought was appealing.

"The hiking up north is great, too," Cindy continued. "Make sure you visit Sedona and Sunset Crater. They’re gorgeous."

"Sunset Crater? Is that where the meteor hit?" I asked.

"No," she said, as if I was being silly. "It’s a cinder cone volcano. It’s beautiful out there."

"Oh, a cinder cone," I brightened. I knew what those were. "I’ve never visited one. Do they let you climb it?"

Cindy shook her head. "Nope. Too fragile. But there are other cinder cones up north you can hike."

"Do you have earthquakes up there?" I asked.

"Not very often," Cindy continued. "Little ones. Not like what you get out in California."

I could see Tom and Anna exchange befuddled glances out of the corner of my eye. I turned to him. "What?"

"Well," Tom said, in that tone he always asked me before he asked me a favor.

"What?" I asked, this time more warily.

"You two seem to be hitting it off," he said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Do you mind if Anna and I split?"

I glanced at Cindy. "It’d be all right with me. How about you, Cindy?"

"Sure," she said, with a coy little smile. "Don’t stay up too late, you too."

Tom gave me a wolfish grin and the two took off, leaving Cindy and I with a pizza and a quarter of pitcher of soda.

Cindy and I stayed at Mama’s, talking about various hiking experiences, until they closed at midnight. I walked her back to her dormitory, the towering Manzinita Hall, which was about half-a-mile from the pizzeria. We talked about all sorts of things, hiking, school work, the strangeness of living in the urban desert. By the time I left, it was close to two. And we had agreed to meet the next day for the football game.

* * *

I was still furious with Tom over his indiscretion at Mama’s, and despite my elation at meeting an attractive young woman who actually seemed to be interested in me, it didn’t take the edge off. So I slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and lay down in bed, trying to go to sleep, but really waiting for Tom to come in.

He arrived at around three. Quietly, he unlocked the door and began getting ready for bed in the dark. I reached over and turned on the light.

Tom look like a little kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Hi, Justin," he stammered. He could tell by the look on my face I wasn’t happy with him.

"I can’t believe you told them!" I hissed at him. "What were you thinking?"

Tom sighed. "Come on, she obviously likes you. I was just keeping things moving."

"By telling her my eye-que score?"

"Anna told me she likes smart guys," Tom replied lamely. "What’s the big deal?"

"You know I hate it when people know I’m smart," I seethed. "They look at me different."

"It’s kind of hard to hide the fact that you’re intelligent, Justin," Tom pointed out. "It’s not like you can pretend you’re stupid all the time."

"I don’t pretend I’m stupid. It’s just I don’t want people to know I could join Mensa!"

"Well," Tom replied. He was thinking of something to say.

"You didn’t tell her my father was a minister, did you?" I demanded.

"Christ, no," Tom said, wounded. "What do you think I am, crazy?"

* * *

The football game and Saturday itself seemed far too short, and unfortunately Cindy and I had massive piles of homework, so after the game and a long dinner I didn’t want to end, we both had to hit the books. I felt terribly behind on my coursework after just taking a day off, but I managed to finish my essay for history and tackle my journalism homework with plenty of time to spare.

I left for classes the next day, feeling terribly good about myself and remarkably rested. Things went sailing right along until chemistry lab.

It was only my second real chemistry lab. The first one had been a brief introduction by the teaching assistant who would be running our lab section, and after about fifteen minutes in class, we were dismissed. The second one was a lecture on various pieces of chemistry equipment.

This class, however, was an actual lab. We had to use Bunsen burners and various chemicals to identify a series of metals we were given. We were given a battery of tests to use, and then let loose on our projects. I was in such high spirits I had barely noticed the blonde beauty sitting next to me.

My obliviousness was shattered when she turned to me and introduced herself.

I couldn’t tell much about her figure, since she was wearing the loose, long lab smock that made us all pretty much uniform in appearance, but she was strikingly pretty. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and her eyes were a gunmetal gray. Her face was heart shaped, and she wore a conservative amount of make-up: a hint of blush on her cheeks, a pale shade of lipstick on her lips, and a little eye shadow.

"I’m Mandy Sneed," she told me, extending her hand.

"Justin Ford," I replied, shaking her shapely, tan hand.

She smiled at me and cocked her head. "Do you know Cindy Holmgren?"

"Yes, I do," I stammered, surprised. "Uh… how do you know Cindy?"

"She’s my roommate," she said. "This is so weird."

I nodded in agreement.

We chatted idly for a moment about the weather and our lecturer, then got into the nitty gritty of our lab. We partnered up and attacked the assignment. While we worked on the lab, we talked. Mandy was a political science major from North Carolina. She had known Cindy since the beginning of the last year, when they had been assigned each other as roommates. We finished the lab quickly. We went our separate ways, I marveling at the shapeliness of Mandy’s figure (sans lab coat) briefly before heading off to the library to stay on track with my reading.

* * *

I ran into Mandy again on Wednesday, during the lecture section of our chemistry class. We chatted about the wonderful weather before the lecture started. After class, Mandy and I found ourselves walking to the social sciences building. We both had classes there, so we continued our conversation during the walk there.

I had called Cindy Tuesday night, and was finding my newfound social life rewarding. It was nice having other friends besides Tom, and I found that I got more work down quicker when I had social contacts to maintain. Thursday, Mandy called me with a question about our chemistry homework, and then Cindy took away the phone to tell me about this documentary she had seen on the Grand Tetons.

I was in the best spirits I had been in all semester. I was looking forward to Friday; I wasn’t sure what it had in store for me yet, but I hoped to do something with Cindy. We were playing it by ear until we knew how much coursework we had to do.

Friday morning, while Mandy and I walked to our social science classes, she was particularly talkative. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"I don’t know yet," I replied. "Cindy and I were waiting to see how homework stood."

She scoffed. "You two have always got your noses in your books. Tell you what you are going to do. You and Cindy are coming to a small gathering at a friend’s."

"I don’t know," I began.

"Come on, it’ll be fun," she told me. "You can’t have that much homework. Live a little. Anna and Tom are coming, by the way."

"How many people are going to be there?" I asked. I was never big on crowds.

"My friend, her boyfriend, her roommate, her boyfriend, a friend of mine, Tom, Anna, Cindy and you. Small gathering," she said, dismissively. "Come on, it’ll be fun."

"I don’t know, Mandy," I began.

"Oh, come on, you old straight arrow. You two need to loosen up," she said. "My friend is twenty-four," she said, as if dangling a carrot in front of me.

I may be smart, but I’m not always quick-witted. "So?"

"Plenty of booze. Bring blankets, a pillow, toothbrush, something to sleep in and change of clothes," she told me.

"But…"

"You’re coming," she said, and darted up a flight of stairs to her class.

* * *

As soon as I got home from my classes, I called Cindy.

"Oh, hi, Justin," she said happily. "I’ve got good news. I can go to the party tonight."

"Good," I replied, not really sure if I believed it. "Mandy told me about it."

"Oh?" she didn’t really sound that surprised. They were roommates, after all.

"Yeah," I said, not really sure what to say next. "She said it’s a sleepover."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "A sleepover?" she said, hesitantly. Obviously, Mandy hadn’t informed her of that little detail. I was hoping she would back out. Cautiously, she spoke, "That might be fun."

Peer pressure is a horrible thing. Especially when a girl you really like is involved. "Um, okay." My mind was whirling. If she was going to be there, I would go too. But maybe I could still talk her out of it. "Mandy said her friend is twenty-one. There might be a lot of drinking."

Cindy thought about that for a moment. "Well, I guess it’s good it’s a sleepover, then. Nobody will be driving home drunk."

That wasn’t the response I was looking for. My parents would be furious with me if they knew I went to a co-ed sleepover. It didn’t matter if we were being responsible. Then there was the fact that there would be underage consumption of alcohol. The problem with being an nineteen-year-old boy is that you don’t always think that way. So what if we were underage? Or that it was a co-ed sleepover? There was this attractive young lady that was willing to go with me. Who knew what could happen? And that was a powerful argument.

Then there was the fact that I had rarely drunk any alcohol before. When I was in high school, I had always been a good kid. I studied hard, walked the straight and narrow, and kept my nose clean. In college, I kept myself so busy that I rarely cut loose with Tom. He had brought a six-pack of beer home from a party once, and we drank it during a San Francisco football game, but that was the extent of my drinking. It was what was expected of a minister’s son. It seemed like everyone in the dormitory was obsessed with alcohol and getting wasted. The parties started on Thursday night and didn’t wind down until early Monday morning. To say I wasn’t curious would be a lie. I was always curious.

It took me a torturous ten seconds to make my decision. "Okay," I said, covering my forehead with my hand. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. "What time do I come by to pick you up?"

"The party starts at nine," Cindy said brightly. "Pick me up at eight?"

"Are we talking Mandy with us?" I asked.

"Nope. Mark’s already picked her up. They were going to Dos Gringos."

I knew were Dos Gringos was. It was between Mama’s and Cindy’s dorm, next to a hamburger place and a deli. "Alright," I said. "I’ll see you at eight."

I hung up and put my head in my hands. What the hell did I think I was doing? It was about three o’clock, and I still had to do some homework. I walked over to my desk and dove into my school books.

Half-an-hour later, Tom came in. "Hey," he said happily. Tom was always at his happiest on Friday afternoons. "Why are you doing homework?"

I just gave him a dirty look and returned to my books.

He grinned and slapped me on my shoulder. "So, are you going to Jessica’s party?"

It occurred to me I had no idea where I was going tonight. "That’s this girl’s name?"

Tom nodded. "You’re coming right?"

I nodded. I was beginning to really regret this decision.

"Good," he said, his grin growing even larger. "I can’t wait to meet this Mandy chick. She sounds hot."

"She is," I grumbled. "But aren’t you dating Anna?"

"Nah," he said, opening up a drawer in his dresser. "We’re just seeing each other. Besides, you and Cindy have really hit it off. And I noticed you couldn’t help noticing Mandy."

I blushed furiously. I was the one who had told Tom of the beautiful Mandy.

"What’s this Jessica like?" I asked.

Tom shrugged. "About five ten, big hooters, dark hair, blue eyes, killer body."

I frowned at him.

"What?"

"Don’t you ever think with anything besides your dick?"

Tom laughed at me. "Ah, come on. You’ve got to admit Anna and Cindy have hot friends. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it."

I had noticed it, and had told Tom as much over the past week. I was, after all, a heterosexual male. And nineteen. "Yeah. But you and Anna are sort of dating."

"We’re seeing each other," Tom said. "Besides, I wouldn’t dream of making a pass at any of Anna’s friends. They tell each other everything. You know how girls are."

The semantics eluded me. "I fail to see the difference between dating and seeing each other," I said bitterly.

Tom rolled his eyes. "See, that’s one of those things you can’t hide. You talk smart."

"What does that mean?"

"’I fail to see the difference between dating and seeing each other,’" Tom repeated. "You talk like my English professor."

That stung. I was always censoring myself, avoiding large words like the plague. And now Tom was calling me out on my grammar. "I didn’t realize that bothered you," I said, turning my back to him and gazing back at my books.

"Relax, Justin," Tom said. "You just think you hide your intelligence better than you do."

I pretended to ignore him by turning a page.

"Well, you aren’t going to ruin my evening," Tom continued. "With any luck, I’ll be bedding Miss Hayes again tonight."

That got my attention. Tom had told me that last Friday and Saturday the two had fooled around. Anna, at least according to Tom, was great in the sack. "At the party?" I asked, stunned. "Are you out of your mind?"

He looked like he had said something horrible. He tried to cover, "Oh, lighten up," Tom told me. "You are such a prude."

Tom grabbed an empty athletic bag and began dropping some clothes into it. "You know, if it hadn’t been for Cecilia and Prom Night, I’d bet you’d still be a virgin."

Cecilia was a girl I had dated last year, and it had been pretty serious for a while. The reference to Prom Night reminded me I hadn’t lost my virginity until I was a senior in high school. On Prom Night. I whirled on him. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Tom said haughtily. "You never cut loose, take any chances. You’re in college, Justin, and you hardly ever go out. You’re away from your parents, no one knows who you are. Live a little."

I glared at him, and felt my ears burning and my cheeks flushing. "I’ve had a lot of course work."

"Which is a joke to you," Tom pointed out. "I noticed your homework always takes up exactly as much time as you have. When you talk to Mandy or Cindy, the homework gets done quicker. Convenient, huh?"

I was, once more, furious with my best friend. First last Friday, then this Friday. "Well, if you’d just applied yourself a little harder, you could’ve gotten into Berkeley," I snapped off.

"I didn’t make you come here," Tom snarled. "You were the one that decided to come. I came here because everyone in my family went to school here."

"You wasted your opportunity," I roared. "You blew off high school."

"Why are you here, then?" Tom yelled back. "You’d never go to a bad school. Not Mister Perfect. You were number three in our class, remember?"

I had no ready response, and Tom knew it. A long, awkward silence developed between us. I grabbed my duffel bag and went to my dresser. I started filling it with things for the evening. Tom grabbed the pillow off his bed and started folding up his quilt. There was a long pregnant silence as we clattered around our tiny dorm room, ignoring each other.

Tom went into the bathroom and grabbed a few, last second things. "I’ll see you at the party!" he yelled.

"Fine!" I hollered back. Tom slammed the door as he left.

* * *

I left Ocotillo Hall to pick up Cindy at five till eight. I had dressed in a navy shirt, a pair of black jeans, and a pair of battered Doc Martens I usually wore hiking. When I arrived at the sixteen-story dormitory that Cindy lived in, I couldn’t find a parking place in the tiny visitor lot it shared with the nearby Palo Verde complex. So I double parked.

Cindy must have been waiting for me, because I just started looking for her when she opened up the passenger side door. She was dressed in a tight, turquoise-colored shirt that showed a sliver of bare midriff. Tight, hip hunger jeans rode low on her hips, exposing a wider swath of pale flesh when she moved. I noticed her breasts were larger than my prior assessment, and I figured this was because the shirt was a lot more revealing. "Nice car," she said, admiring the black Volvo.

"Graduation gift from my parents," I told her.

She tossed an overnight bag, a pillow and a neatly folded blanket and quilt into the back seat. I smiled at her as she buckled in. She looked at me, tucking her hair behind her right ear. She wore more make-up than I had seen her wear before. A hint of rogue on the cheeks, a light eye shadow, eye liner, and a pale red shade of lipstick. "You hungry?" she asked.

"I could eat," I responded.

"Want to pick up a sandwich or something before we head for Jessica’s?"

I nodded.

We stopped by a place called Dilly’s Deli, where we ordered oven-backed sandwiches. As we dug in, Cindy asked, "You haven’t met Jessica yet, have you?"

I shook my head.

"Me neither," she told me. "But Mandy told me about her. She went to cosmetology school, then got a job at a beauty saloon, and found out she hated it. So she decided to come to university to get a degree. She’s a junior now."

"How did Mandy meet her?"

"I’m not really sure," Cindy responded. "They have a class together."

"Tom’s met her," I said, digging into a side of potato salad.

"Really?" Cindy replied. She looked wary. I shared her apprehensions about this party, but something kept me from voicing them. A quiet pause hung between us, filled with unasked questions and unknown answers.

"This potato salad is delicious," I told her. It was out of the blue, and the salad was good. More importantly, it broke the silence.

She smiled prettily at me. It occurred to me that she reminded me of a pixie. "Mandy told me this place was good. She’s really nice," she told me. "I thought you’d like her."

"What’s her roommate like?"

She blinked, then grinned flirtily. "She looks a lot like me, actually. Meet this really cool guy last weekend…"

I felt heat rise in my cheeks, then said. "I meant Jessica’s roommate."

"Ah," she said, feigning confusion. God, she was cute. "You mean Selene?"

"Selene?" I repeated.

"Selene," she gave me a little smile. "Mandy says she’s very pretty, with a high squeaky voice." She said the last in a high, squeaky voice of her own. She giggled. "I’m not sure if she’s in school or not. I know she’s works for her dad."

Apparently, she had exhausted her knowledge of the mysterious Jessica and Selene, since she asked me how my classes were going. I told her that they were going well, but I had a lot of work. Her classes were going well, too. She was finally getting adjusted to this term’s workload, and didn’t feel quite so overwhelmed.

Bellies full, we continued our journey to Selene and Jessica’s apartment. The apartment itself was an older complex of buildings, not far from the deli, painted white and surrounded by neatly manicured, lush lawns. Their apartment was located in a one-story unit with four other units in a neat little row.

It was about a quarter till nine, I noted on my watch. "We’re early," I said.

Suddenly, Cindy had grabbed my face with both of her hands, turned me to face her, and planted her lips on mine. I could feel her warm, probing tongue on my lips, so I opened them and her tongue met mine. It was a delicious, delightful kiss, very sudden, but very welcome. I immediately sprung an erection, but in a dark parking lot in a dark car, I didn’t really mind.

My breathing became heavier as the kiss became urgent, and I turned awkwardly in my seat and wrapped my arms around her. Her body seemed very lithe and very warm as I rubbed my hands over her back. I could feel her quickened breath against my cheek, could hear hungry little noises coming from the back of her throat. Her lips were eager, yet gentle, and her tongue was prodding and poking in a delicate but unhesitant way.

She pulled away, breathing hard. The slight rogue on her cheeks had turned to a very evident crimson. "I’m sorry," she said, hand to her mouth. "Was that too…?"

I smiled at her, noticing the warm glow of my own skin for the first time. "No, it was nice," I told her. That seemed to make her relax, and she smiled at me.

"I got some lipstick on you," she said, digging in her purse for a tissue. She reached out and gently wiped it off my lips. She seemed extremely flustered; her hand was shaking as it touched my face. Satisfied she had wiped the evidence off my face, she cracked open the passenger door. The overhead light came on, and she pulled down the visor so she could reapply her lipstick.

There is something very erotic about watching a girl put on lipstick. As I watched, I realized my erection wasn’t going down. Great. I glanced at my watch. Ten till. Bright headlights suddenly washed over the car, and a blue Lexus pulled up. In the passenger side, I recognized Mandy. The driver was a tall, dark-haired man with a goatee. The car simply exuded wealth.

"Mark and Mandy are here," I told Cindy as she returned her lipstick to her purse.

"Really?" she sounded a little disappointed. I realized I was too. I was kind of hoping for another kiss. Cindy opened her door the rest of the way and waved to Mandy, who had emerged from her ride. My erection was finally shrinking, so I decided to open my door, as well.

If I had thought Mandy was beautiful before, she was dreadfully stunning now. Even in the dark, her heart-shaped face was framed by her lustrous blonde locks, which she had teased into a completely different hairstyle than the one she wore to school. She also wore more make-up, as if she was going dancing: lots of eyeliner, blue eye shadow, a lot of blush, and deep red lipstick. It usually made girls look slutty to wear that much make-up, but on Mandy, it seemed to work.

If Mandy’s make-up and hair was stunning, her outfit was practically spectacular. She wore a black leather chemise, leaving a stretch of her midriff bare and the top of her shapely breasts open as well. Two spaghetti thin leather straps held it to her top. Her jeans were tight and black, displaying her wonderfully shapely legs, and she wore red pumps that matched her lipstick.

Mandy greeted me with a huge grin and hug. As I wrapped my hands around her, I realized the back of her leather shirt was open, criss-crossed with thin leather straps. I could feel the smooth skin of her back, as well as the exposed back of her strapless bra. My penis stirred once more.

"Glad you could make it," she whispered in my ear. She pecked my cheek and then ran over to Cindy.

"Hey girl," Mandy said playfully. "I haven’t seen you in ages!" It was an inside joke. They had seen each other only hours before. The girls embraced and Mandy began talking animatedly.

I glanced over at Mark, who was grinning at me. He gestured at his cheek at the same spot where Mandy had kissed me. I realized I had make-up on me again. I rubbed my cheek and walked over to him, blushing horribly.

Mark was indeed tall, well over six feet, with raven-black hair and an almost impossibly dark goatee. He wore a shimmering gray shirt and black dockers, and there were expensive loafers on his feet. He looked quite a bit older than me, I guessed mid or late twenties. He smiled at me. "Mark Winters," he told me, extending his hand. "You must be Justin."

I nodded, still feeling embarrassed. His date had just left lipstick on my cheek. "Nice to meet you," I said.

He bent and whispered to me. "We’d better separate them," he said with a grin. "Or we’ll be out here for hours."

I decided I liked Mark immediately.

With the girls still chattering on the other side of my Volvo, I popped the trunk and gathered up my things. Mark did the same, his items under one arm, Mandy’s under the other. I glanced at the trunk of his Lexus, and noted that even the interior of the trunk looked posh and expensive. He walked up to the apartment and rang the bell while I grabbed Cindy’s things and followed him up. Behind me, Cindy and Mandy were still talking animatedly, but were slowly making their way to the front door.

The door burst open and we greeted by a short, petite young woman with wavy auburn hair and a large friendly smile. "Hey, Mark," she said, her voice high but cute.

Mark greeted her and gave her a friendly hug. Then he stepped inside. The pretty young woman turned her attention to me. Her auburn hair cascaded down past her shoulders, and her eyes were a vivid shade of green. She wore just a hint of eye make-up and a light shade of lipstick on her full, generous lips. She wore a chemise-like light green shirt, exposing the pale skin of a flawless throat and chest. A few freckles were scattered over the tops of her small, pert breasts. Pink bra straps arced over her well-formed shoulders. Blue-jean cut-off shorts revealed powerfully-built thighs and calves. She definitely worked out. She was barefoot, her toenails painted green.

"I’m Selene Davis," she said to him, glancing at me. "You must be Justin Ford?"

I nodded. I shook hands with her awkwardly. Everyone seemed to know me already. It made me feel somewhat uneasy. Her hand held mine for a moment. She had a good grip and smooth skin, and her fingernails were painted green to match her shirt and toes.

She smiled, then told us to come in. Mark and I maneuvered pillows, blankets and bags into the apartment. The apartment was a two-bedroom, with a large common room between. In the back of the common room, an open door led into a small bathroom. The kitchen was offset into the wall, a bar running continuously from the back wall of the room. The bar was covered with liquor bottles. Curtains were pulled in the kitchen, and the bedrooms were dark.

The common room was very roomy, at least twenty feet square, and a sofa and easy chair were pushed against one wall. The coffee table was under the window next to two end tables. An entertainment center stood in the corner between the sofa and the tables. A large television and sizeable stereo were ensconced inside. This left the lion’s share of the common room open. Two large bean bag chairs were occupied by two young men. They stood up as we entered.

Over the couch was a strange object-de-art. It was large wooden circle, roughly three feet across, with a pair of shiny aluminum bars, one vertical, one horizontal, cutting through it’s middle. Mounted on the bars was a giant red heart, presumably wooden as well. In a room otherwise devoid of pictures, art or other wall hangings, the circle and heart seemed to be of special significance.

"Pile up your stuff on the couch," Selene told me. She greeted Mandy warmly as the girls arrived inside, then introduced herself to Cindy.

"Jesse!" Selene called. "They’re here!"

There was no immediate response, so Selene excused herself to find her roommate.

The guys approached us. The first was a swarthy looking guy, shorter than my five eleven by several inches. He was muscular, with deeply tanned skin and hazel colored eyes. His dark hair was short and wild. He wore a light blue polo shirt, jeans and sandals. He looked to be around the same age as Mark. He introduced himself as Frank Castillo.

The other guy was named Jeff White, and was taller than Mark, very lanky. His pale skin was covered with freckles, and his brown hair was neatly manicured and a bit greasy looking. His eyes were light shade of brown, and he wore a T-Shirt that read, "One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor." He wore a pair of denim shorts and a pair of grungy old sneakers.

Jeff was Jessica’s boyfriend, while Frank introduced himself as a friend of the group. Whatever that meant.

Both were affiliated with A.S.U., Frank a biology graduate and Jeff a general studies major closer to our age. Neither seemed very interested in scholarly pursuits. Frank worked at a blood testing facility in Phoenix, while Jeff worked at T.G.I. Friday’s in Mesa as a waiter.

Jessica entered the room then, and Tom was right, she was a knockout. She looked taller than me, but she was wearing platform clogs at the end of incredibly long, tan legs. She wore a pink, knee-length skirt that suggested curvy hips. A black, bare midriff top exposed an impossibly flat, brown belly, complete with shapely belly-button. The black top swelled at her chest, indicating that Tom’s assessment of her endowment was not far off. Topping off this impressive figure were waves of black hair and a slender face. Jessica’s lips were small, red and wet, yet were surprisingly full. A narrow nose and high cheek bones were offset by bright, shining blue eyes and delicate eyebrows.

"Well, hello," she said to Cindy and I, practically purring. "I’m Jessica Smith."

I stammered out a greeting. She didn’t seem to need an introduction from us, and I once more found this odd. Jessica sat gracefully next to Jeff’s beanbag, her skirt carefully arranged about her in a pink disk. Selene came up to us and pressed cold cans of beer into our hands. "Have a seat, gang."

Mark and I sat across from Jeff and Frank, and we were soon joined by Cindy and Mandy. Cindy had a red wine cooler in her hand. I watched her unscrew the top and tentatively take a sip. She made a face that I hadn’t seen before. She leaned into me, resting the cold beverage on my knee. "Tastes different," she whispered into my ear. Her breath was hot and sweet, sending delightful shivers down my spine.

I popped open the can and took my first swig of beer. It was bitter, just as I had remembered it. Cindy had put her wine color down on the floor and replaced her hand on my thigh. I was very conscious of the warmth of her touch. She leaned into me again, and whispered. "How does it taste?"

I turned to her face, inches away from mine. Her lips were partly opened, exposing her white, even teeth. I gulped. "Bitter. Want to try some?"

She nodded, her eyes locked on mine, and took the can from me. She took a swallow, made a face, and returned it to my hand. I could tell by her face she didn’t like it. Cindy changed positions, her hand leaving my thigh, but her body very close to me.

Mark was in insurance, and he was talking to Frank about the dismal state of the stock market. Mandy, sitting between Mark and Cindy, looked bored and turned away. I caught her eye and she winked at me. She returned her attention to the discussion Mark and Frank were having. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Mandy was flirting with me. She seemed to have shifted her seat a little to give me a better view of her slightly tanned, nearly naked back. I realized, in the better light of the apartment, that Mandy’s tan line was visible as two lines reaching up and over her shoulders. I could also see the line of her panties clearly defined in her tight jeans, and could see the black waistline just peeking out of her jeans. The string appeared, and a tiny bit of bare skin below it seemingly winked at me. I gulped. The view was decidedly erotic, and one that I shouldn’t be witnessing. She was Cindy’s friend and roommate, and now my friend as well. It was wrong to look at her that way.

Across from me, Jeff and Jessica were sitting facing one another, engrossed in a deep conversation. Selene returned with a light green wine cooler in her hand, noticed Cindy and I sitting next to each other, and made her way towards us.

"So," she said as she sat down before us, cross-legged. I noticed the incredible muscle tone of her legs again, and how high she had cut her jeans. "It’s nice to finally meet you in person."

She smiled at Cindy for a moment. Her green eyes danced. "I know Cindy’s working on elementary ed," she began. Cindy looked surprised that Selene knew that. "What are you studying, Justin?"

"General studies," I told her. "I haven’t really decided yet. How about you?"

"Well, I was a business major, but I dropped out." She added, "I work for my father now."

She took several swallows of her wine cooler. "You guys are sophomores, right?"

We nodded. "Don’t party too hard," she warned us. "I have a lot of friends that didn’t make it through their second year."

She took another drink, then glanced at us, then our drinks. "Drink up!" she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. She threw back her head and took five, big swallows.

I took a swallow of my beer, and Cindy took one of her wine cooler.

She looked at us warily. "Come on. You can do better than that."

I looked nervously at Cindy, who looked equally concerned. We both took our beverages and threw them back. I managed four swallows before the warmth and bitterness forced me to stop. Cindy was still pouring hers down her throat, and I marveled at the shape of her long neck as she swallowed. A tear seemed to be running down her cheek, and she finally stopped, gasping, making a horrible face.

Selene beamed. "That’s the spirit!"

I noticed that Jessica was standing up, her long legs flexing. An empty beer bottle was in her hands, along with a can. I presumed the can was empty and belonged to Jeff.

Selene leaned in closer, her emerald eyes bright and playful. "When Tom and Anna get here, we’ll play some games to break the ice. Don’t you worry. Here."

She had taken Cindy’s wine cooler from her hand. Selene stood on her knees beside her. "Lean your head back," she told her gently.

Cindy did.

"Farther," she said.

Cindy tilted her head back till she gazed at the ceiling. Her hands were supporting her, knees were bent, feet flat on the floor. I wished I was a vampire sucking on that neck.

"Open your mouth."

I could tell by the look on Cindy’s face that she was uneasy.

"Don’t forget to try to breathe between swallows," she told her. "Some people can’t lean back and swallow like this, so I’ll stop quickly, okay?" She raised the bottle of red liquid over Cindy’s lips. She tilted it and slowly poured the liquid into Cindy’s mouth. Cindy started gulping, eyes closed. I could hear the breath racing in and out of her nose. The muscles in her throat worked constantly, keeping pace with the wine cooler that Selene was pouring into her mouth. Selene stopped briefly. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Cindy nodded, breathing heavily. I couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of her bust. My penis twitched and started to swell. Mentally, I groaned. Not now.

"Okay, let’s do it again," she said. Cindy leaned back, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. The red liquid poured, and this time Selene kept pouring and pouring. It was a small trickle, but constant, and Cindy kept swallowing, swallowing, swallowing. Her bust rose sharply between each gulp, her breath coming out hard and audible through her nose.

A tear ran down her cheek, but she kept swallowing. I was amazed. She must have taken twenty gulps. Half the bottle was gone. A stream of tears was running over her cheek and into her silky blonde hair. Selene tilted the bottle back at one point when Cindy’s swallowing seemed to stop, but it was only a momentary pause. Cindy took a gasping deep breath, then Selene started trickling, then pouring, the bottle once more. Cindy’s eye lids fluttered for a moment, and I noticed her cheeks were really red. Everyone in the room was watching Cindy and Selene. All talking had stopped. It was almost an erotic experience. The bottle was almost empty, and Selene kept pouring. Suddenly, Cindy spluttered, and Selene immediately stopped pouring. None-the-less, some of the beverage spilled onto her lips and over her cheeks. Cindy leaned forward, blinking.

Selene hooted and the rest of the roar exploding into a roar of cheering. I looked at her, amazed.

Cindy gasped and wiped her lips off with the back of her hand. Selene reached out and ran a finger up the rivulet on Cindy’s cheek, collecting the ruby liquid with her finger tip. She put the finger in her mouth and the group cheered again. Cindy looked at the ground with an embarrassed laugh.

Selene handed her the bottle. "See, almost finished."

Cindy took the bottle and tilted her head back, greedily swallowing the last four swallows of the wine cooler.

Mandy let out a hoot next to her and clapped. Selene stood up and walked to the kitchen. I watched her ass and legs for a moment, then glanced over at Cindy, who was looking at me accusingly.

She leaned into me, whispered. "Do you like her better than me?" She sounded hurt.

"No," I breathed. "She’s pretty, is all."

Her eyes seemed to well up with tears. Her lip quivered. "Don’t you think I’m pretty?"

I touched her chin, moved into kiss her lips. It was a gentle kiss, and I could taste strawberry on her mouth. "I think you’re beautiful."

That seemed to brighten her up. Selene returned with another can of beer and another red wine cooler for Cindy. She looked at me, then at Cindy. Selene reached over and took my beer out of my hand. She offered it to Cindy.

"Cindy," she said. "Why don’t you do Justin?"