Friendship Part 1

Author's Note: Although this was written after "Ex-Factor" , this story is a prequel to "Admission v.1"  when Morgan and her friends are still in college.


November 2, 2003
Tallahassee, Florida

I was on my way to sit down with dinner until a metallic crash startled me. “Shit!” said the woman standing in front of me. She wore a ruffled light blue shirt and a lavender pencil skirt over platform powder blue sling backs. I was sure she was a senior, since underclassmen usually stuck with jeans and a t-shirt as their standard uniform. She was very attractive, with an ambiguous taupe skin tone, full lips and big brown eyes. Her hair hung down her face in thick black and brown spirals, the kind of hair you couldn’t restrain no matter what you did to it. I momentarily felt like a toad standing next to her, though there was no reason why I should have. After all, I was cute my damn self, with a shaved head, even bronze skin, gleaming white teeth and high cheekbones with dimples.

“Are you alright?” I asked. Her eyes bulged with fear. I tightened my jaw, recognizing her expression. I was openly gay, and women on campus thought I was coming on to them if I said hello.

She blinked rapidly. “No. I just dropped my spoon, and there aren’t any more left.” She looked embarrassed. On her tray was a bowl of minestrone soup and a small cup of chocolate pudding. She needed a spoon. No getting around it.

I took a deep breath, thankful that I misread her reaction to me. “Here.” I said, giving her the one I had intended to use for my yogurt. I figured I'd just use my fork, since I didn't feel like getting back in line for another spoon. “Sporks are better though.”

The woman tilted her head to the side, allowing a few of her wayward curls to dangle in her face. “What’s a spork?”

“It’s a spoon, but it has little tines at the end like a mini fork.”

“That’s genius.” she said with a slight smile, tugging her hair out of her face.

I mirrored her smile. “Yeah. Wish I had could have invented it.” I took my tray and moved off to sit with my good friend Donohue, who was already munching on a taco. Donohue was never without her CD player, and was still rocking out to The Red Hot Chili Peppers when I joined her. She had the punk look down pat. Spiked red and black hair, the tattoo on the back of her neck, several piercings, and the black leather jacket made her stand out wherever she went, and it was not for show. My friend had a crazy personality, which made most people wonder if she was the devil in female form. I moved one of her headphones from her ear so she could hear me. “Hey girl.”

“Hey. How was that basketball player last night?” asked Donohue with a grin before biting her labret piercing and sliding her headphones down to her neck. Donohue had dark brown eyes that could see right through anyone they encountered, giving more weight to the devil rumor.

“Shut up, Satan.” I had gotten drunk with the point guard of the woman’s basketball team which led to us screwing in the bathroom of some hole in the wall club. I usually tried to be discrete about my hookups, but we had been interrupted by a very impatient sorority girl barging into our occupied bathroom stall. I was hoping to keep things quiet, but if Donohue knew already, half the campus did too.

“Can I sit down?” asked the girl I had given my spoon to.

I looked up at her and blinked before answering. “Sure.” I said, indicating the seat next to me. Donohue looked at her, glanced at me and suppressed a grin by sucking her drink through a straw.

“I’m Katrina.” she scooped up her pudding and started eating it before her soup.

“I’m Morgan, and this is my friend Donohue.” I said.

Donohue waved at her, flashing a multitude of silver rings and black nail polish. “Hey.”

“What’s your major?” Katrina asked me, dragging her chair back from the table and sitting down.

“Accounting with a minor in Business Law.”

“Really? I’m an Accounting major too, but my minor is English. I’m going to be a stenographer.”

“Is that what you really want to do? Isn't that a pretty easy job?” I teased.

“There’s nothing easy about becoming a stenographer.”

“Of course not. There’s a twenty percent completion rate for those that complete stenography classes.”

Katrina was surprised that I knew. “That’s right!”

“I looked into it before I got an internship at a law firm.”

“Really? Which one?”

“Crowne, Stone, and Mitchell. At their city office in Jacksonville.”

Katrina whistled. “Not bad. As a matter of fact, that’s very good.”

I shrugged bashfully, secretly thrilled I impressed her. “I’m on track to graduate with honors, so they couldn‘t exactly tell me no.”

“I’m gonna go. Nice to meet you, Katrina.” said Donohue abruptly, picking up her CD player and walking towards the trash cans with her tray.

“Nice meeting you.” said Katrina, giving her a glowing smile that almost knocked my socks off. Donohue gave me a knowing grin and winked over Katrina's shoulder.

“Why haven’t I seen you in the cafeteria before?” I asked, ignoring Donahue.

“I usually don’t eat here. I live off campus in an apartment. Today I skipped breakfast and lunch, so I couldn't wait to eat after class.”

“Uh-huh.” I said. Secretly, I was thinking, Great. I’m sitting next to a Daddy’s Girl who probably has her parents pay for everything. I wasn’t a big fan of people who got everything handed to them on a silver platter. It seemed unfair to me. Not that I was jealous or anything.

“Do you live on campus?”

“Yes. I live in Staton Hall.”

She nodded knowingly. “The infamous party dorm.”

“I‘m not into all that. I’ve lived there all four years, and I’ve still maintained my G.P.A. If it gets too noisy to study, I go to the library, or I find a diner that’s open twenty-four seven. No biggie.”

“I wish I could have been that determined. I lost my scholarship the first year.” Katrina lowered her head.

“Partying?” I asked with a grin.

“Yeah.” she said, blushing prettily. “But I left my sorority after that-”

“You were in a sorority?” I asked in surprise. Most sorority girls were in for life. Few ever left once they got through all the hazing rituals.

“Sure was. Glad I got out before I got too brainwashed.”

“My kind of girl.” I said quietly. I respected anyone who could cut ties with sorority. Sororities seemed to be too cultish to be any good.

Her eyes opened wide at that. “Look…I’m not like that. I gotta go.” She got up and left, leaving her food barely touched.

I groaned, covering my forehead with my hands. That went well, I thought to myself. I looked at my own food and decided to get something to eat off campus, wanting to put as much distance between myself and the cafeteria as possible. Even though I only had fifty bucks to last me until Thanksgiving, I just couldn't stomach being at school at the moment. I was always paid for speaking my mind and being myself. I drank my chocolate milk to kill some time, hoping to avoid Katrina when I left. I was surprised to see her waiting for me outside when I walked out.

“Hey, Morgan! Come here!” she said, motioning us away from the continuously opening cafeteria doors, and over by some benches. There was a mini eating area outside, perfect for enjoying a little sun during lunch and breakfast, which could be taken advantage of nearly year-round at my large southern university. I hesitated, watching her wave for several seconds before going over to her. “Sorry about that. I just got freaked. About you being...you know.”

“Whatever. It’s okay.” I said sheepishly as I sat down on a bench across from her. No one had ever apologized for being weird about me being gay before.

“Did you toss your dinner?”

“Yeah. ” I said, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. In reality, I was on a two meal a day plan and needed every meal I could get.

“Do you want to get something else to eat off campus? My treat for being a bitch.”

“Uh, McDonalds?” I ventured, trying not to take advantage.

“Come on, pick a fun place.”

“Okay…” I said, a bit caught off guard. “Golden Corral?” It was the first place that came to mind. Fun wasn't a description I'd use to describe eating.

“I’ve never eaten there before.” she said, looking at me curiously.

“It’s definitely fun. It‘s basically a buffet-style restaurant that has a little bit of everything. A little southern cooking, a little Chinese cooking, a little Italian…pretty much everything you can think of all in one place.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” She swung her legs out from the bench.

“You don’t want to know the price range?” I asked in surprise.

“Nope. I’ll pay whatever it is.”

“I guess some people just have it like that.” I said, getting off the bench.

“You think I’m loaded, right?” she asked, standing up and walking with me.

“Yup.”

“I’m not. My parents are. They made that perfectly clear when I lost my scholarship.”

“But you still get money from them.”

Katrina chuckled, and I immediately liked the throaty way she laughed. “If you count the hundred bucks I got for Christmas.”

“That’s it? That’s all you got? Wow, I got two hundred dollars from my mom just the other day.”

“You’re a richer woman than me.”

“Not really. That money feels more like blo-” I stopped myself from saying anything else. It was true that I wasn’t close to my mother, but that wasn’t really Katrina’s business. I quickly brought the subject back to her. “How can you afford to live off campus?”

“I got my scholarship back, and I’m going to be seriously in debt after graduation thanks to some student loans.”

“Wow.” That wasn’t what I expected to hear. Her parents were either tough, or cheap for rich folks.

“What can I say? I want what I want. And I want to be without a curfew…” she said with a mysterious smirk.

“You can take the girl out of the sorority…” I teased.

“Whatever, More. It’s alright if I call you that, right?”

“As long as I can call you Trina.” I replied. Before I knew it, we were at our cars. I had an old 1988 Toyota Tercel, and she had a relatively new 2000 Dodge Viper in bright pink. “You do know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Not only are you driving us, you can’t ever complain about your parents cutting you off.”

Instead of being offended, she laughed it off. “Deal.”

Even after we got our food at the restaurant, we still continued to talk. She was curious about me. I knew part of the reason was because she hadn’t been close to any gay people before, but I found myself telling her a lot about myself, and she returned the favor.

“That steak was really good.” I told her, wiping my mouth after my third plate.

“It was. This place was really good too. I had fun.” said Katrina.

“I think you can make anything fun.” I told her. She had single handedly prevented a birthday disaster for a little boy by calming him down after his cake had fallen over, entertained her fellow patrons while they waited impatiently for their egg rolls, and all the while carried on a conversation with me about candy.

“I don’t like seeing people miserable. And if there’s anything I can do to help, I just do it.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Your boyfriend must be really lucky.” I said, with a hint of jealousy.

“Which one?” She joked. “I don’t have time to be tied down. As soon as it gets serious, a guy’s talking marriage. I just don’t want that right now.” She looked down into her drink, embarressed. “You must think I am a total slut.”

“I don’t think you are. I’m not exactly looking to move in with a girl right after college either.” I sounded casual about it, but I was lying. I hated random hook-ups, but what could I do? Most women on campus considered themselves to bi-curious, with a definite preference for men, and the few who were out and proud were obnoxious about it.

Katrina smiled brightly and raised her plastic cup of Pepsi. “Here’s to doing whatever the hell we want!”

I clinked her cup with mine. “Here, here.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a killer term paper that’s glaring at me from the back of my mind, so if I can just drop you off by your car-”

“Sure, no problem.”

We continued to talk as she drove me back, and when we reached my car, we were still talking. “I really had fun.” she told me.

“I did too. Thanks again for dinner.” I said, getting out of her car.

“Wait! What’s your dorm number? We’re both Accounting majors. Maybe we could both help each other out if we’ve had some of the same classes.”

I looked at her like she was the lamest person on the planet. “If you just want to be friends, all you have to do is say so. I like you.”

“Really?” She said it so adorably, I had to laugh.

“Yeah. As long as you don’t mind being seen with a gay girl.”

Katrina shook her head. “I don’t mind.” We exchanged phone numbers.

I gave her a small smile. “Well, see ya.”

I got in my car and drove to my dorm. It sucks that she’s not gay. I thought to myself. But whatever. She’s cool. I passed out for a few hours, then woke up at three a.m. to study. I popped some popcorn in the microwave for breakfast, and went to my seven o'clock special topics in accounting class. I was walking back to my dorm after class when I saw Katrina. She came right over to me as soon as we made eye contact.

“Hi!” She said cheerily. “Want to have lunch?”

“Sure. I usually meet Donohue for lunch at around this time. You can eat with us.” I offered. She walked with me to the cafeteria, and shared a comfortable conversation about how great it was going to be once we graduated. I made her laugh when I told her the only graduation present I wanted was a month’s worth of sleep.

“What?” she exclaimed, while trying to stop laughing.

“I like the simple things in life.” I told her.

“Bullshit. You’re wearing a shearling coat, a cashmere sweater, leather pants, and real leather boots.” said Katrina, appraising my outfit.

“I just like things that last. You get what you settle for.”

Katrina chuckled and shook her head. “And you were dissing me over the silver spoon I was born with!”

I shrugged. “I found all this stuff at thrift shops and eBay. I’m still a poor girl.” It was true I liked to dress well, and I liked quality fabrics. It was my guilty pleasure, or obsession, depending on who you asked.

Donohue sat down across from us, clearing her throat. “Ladies.” .

“Hi, Donohue.” said Katrina pleasantly.

“Hi yourself, Trina.”

Katrina raised her eyebrows at that. “Trina? What if I don’t like nicknames?”

“Tough shit then.” said Donohue nonchalantly. She slid her eyes over me slightly. “I’m sure Morgan calls you that anyway.” Donohue teasingly bit her tongue ring for emphasize.

“Only because I started calling her More. What should I call you? Since we’re all friends now.”

“You don’t mind being seen with a punk? Don’t get me wrong, but you seem like the type of girl who would choke at a real underground club.” said Donohue dismissively.

“You mean a place like The Hole?” Katrina asked casually. “I’ve been there a few times. Gopher is a great band. I have all their albums.”

Donohue raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in approval at Katrina’s knowledge of the local underground music scene. “Cool.”

“I think I’ll keep calling you Donohue. It just seems to fit.”

“Yeah. All I need is glasses and a talk show.” We laughed. "Donohue is kind of a nickname anyway. Not many people would be able to call me Dona Henriqua Dulce Paloma Espinoza Armas." Katrina gave her a blank look. "My family is from Cuba. Everyone has like seven different names to show how special we are." Donohue rolled her eyes at that.


I beamed whenever Katrina looked my way. She just had a way of making me feel comfortable around her. Katrina suggested that me and Donohue should meet her friend Vicky. Katrina described Vicky as a laid-back Chemistry major, who bartended on weekends. Because of her background in chemistry, together with genuine experimentation, Katrina said Vicky could make anyone drunk without them having a hang over… within limits.

Donohue didn’t believe it. “She’ll have to prove it.”

Katrina smiled as if this had been a chance she was waiting for. “She tends bar at Silhouette.”

“Silhouette? I was only there once as a frosh. It’s not my scene.” said Donohue.

“You’ll like it. Vicky’s a sweetheart.”

“Silhouette is more of a jock/fraternity/sorority haunt.”

Katrina shrugged. “Just be yourself and don’t worry about those idiots.”

I smiled a little at that. “Aren’t those the same idiots you pledged with?”

“What can I say? Shit happens.”

“Someone didn’t steal your boyfriend did they?” Teased Donohue.

“Men are disposable.” Said Katrina simply.

I winced at the coldness of her words. “Ouch! Harsh much?”

I saw Katrina blush, a pretty shade of dark pink under her ambiguous complexion. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I just think one is as good as another.”

Donohue raised an eyebrow. “Then maybe you need to try a woman.”

“Don’t go there.” I warned Donohue, remembering Katrina’s panicked reaction to me the day before.

Katrina blushed harder and shrugged. “No. It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a little joke.”

After that, we all agreed to meet at Silhouette that night. We parted company, and I had an afternoon class before I went back to my dorm to get ready. I felt just as nervous about getting ready to hang out with Katrina as I would have been on an actual date with her. I drove over to Donohue’s dorm to pick her up.

“She’s closeted.” Said Donohue, as she was buckling herself into my car.

“I don’t think so.” I said. “She’s from a conservative background. Katrina’s just not used to people like us.” Donohue was bisexual, with a preference for men. We had flirted with one another as sophomores when we first met, but nothing ever came of it. Being friends was better.

“She smiles too big at women to be completely straight. Goddamn it, Morgan, she’s gorgeous! I wonder what she is.”

“What she is?” I repeated, not understanding the statement.

“Yeah, is she black, white, or...whatever? I know she's not Latina.”

“I don’t know why people are obsessed with that kind of thing.” I honestly didn't care. I had been with all kinds of women, and the aquaintances I had were all races. As long as I wasn't the token black person in a group and treated with sheer ignorance, it didn't matter to me.

Donohue gave me a disappointed look. “I’m surprised you aren’t at least curious about her. She seems to like you a lot.”

“I think she’s just a sweet person.” I said with feigned indifference.

“You seriously don’t want to sleep with her? I sure as hell do.” I frowned at Donohue, and she gave me a manic grin.

“Don’t try anything. I hinted that I might be interested yesterday, and she freaked out and left me in the cafeteria.”

Donohue raised an eyebrow. “And then she bought you dinner. She likes you.”

“As a friend.” I replied firmly.

“Whatever.” Said Donohue. “I’d definitely try to get with her, but I think she’d only be interested in you. Must be a femme/butch thing.”

“I am not butch.” I protested. I hated lesbian categories of being either a flannel wearing butch, or a high-heel wearing femme.

“Whatever. You don’t own a dress.”

“I don’t own anything I don’t like. Once I find a good dress, I’ll buy it. Besides, I wear bikinis under my slacks, not boxers.”

“Point taken.” Donohue noted with a grin.

When we arrived at Silhouette, Katrina was waiting for us in the parking lot next to her pink Viper. “Hey, I’m glad you could make it!” She exclaimed. She was wearing a stretch dress that hugged her curves, and matching high heels. She wore gold hoop earrings, and festive pink makeup that really brought out her eyes and lips. She looked so good, me and Donohue were actually startled. Our expressions made Katrina’s bright smile falter. “Are you guys okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess I’m just impressed by your outfit.” said Donohue, scratching her head nervously.

“Do you think it’s too much? We’ll probably just be sitting down for the rest of the night.” she asked biting her lip.

“You won’t be the only one overdressed.” I said, pointing out my loafers, crisp black slacks, and shimmering gold top.

Katrina smiled at me. “You’re right. Let’s go.” We waded through clumps of football players and sorority girls who were getting drunk in time for Friday’s game…which wasn’t for another twenty four hours. Katrina sidestepped a linebacker who fell off his bar stool drunkenly. “Woo! Glad those days are behind me.” She approached one of the three bartenders, a short brunette with a healthy sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and bright blue eyes.

“Hey Katrina!” she greeted. “Is this Donohue and Morgan?”

“Yes.” Katrina turned to us. “This is Vicky.”

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled.

“Hey.” said Donohue, looking around the bar, clearly uncomfortable to be around so many preps at once.

“What are you guys up for?” asked Vicky mischievously, in the middle of shaking a cocktail.

“I want the strongest drink you’ve got.” said Donohue.

“Oh, I see how it is. You don’t believe what Katrina’s told you about my cocktails.”

“Sure don’t.” said Donohue. “There’s no way you can drink a Mai Thai, vodka, and jagermeister all at once, and not wake up with a huge hangover in the morning.”

Vicky rolled her eyes. “You lightweight.”

Donohue frowned, offended. “Excuse me?”

“Watch and learn.” We watched as Vicky quickly poured and shook her drinks using strange shaking motions. Then she gave Donohue special instructions. “You don’t drink them all at once. Drink the Mai Thai, wait until your throat gets completely numb, then take the vodka before the jagermeister. The trick is not to let the drink kick in completely before you take another shot, but not letting it wear off either. It’s all about timing.”

“Huh.” Said Donohue. “If I have a hangover tomorrow…”

“You’ll be okay as long you keep still for the next thirty minutes. But if you do have a hangover, then you really are a lightweight.” teased Vicky.

“I guess you’ll have to go drink for drink with me one night and see for yourself.” Challenged Donohue.

“You’re on.” Grinned Vicky.

Vicky proceeded to pour Donohue her drinks, and Katrina started asking me questions about where I grew up. It was a sensitive subject for me, and I avoided talking about my immediate family as much as I could. Katrina caught on and didn’t pry, changing the subject to my hometown. I had grown up about an hour away from Jacksonville in a rural southern town by the name of Kingsland. It wasn’t too backwards, considering Kingsland was home to a naval base, but it had it’s moments.

“This one time, I got hit on by a woman who had no teeth.” I admitted to Katrina.

Katrina smacked my hand. “No! You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Wish I was. She had to be at least fifty years old, had kids older than me, and to make matters worse, she was a regular customer at the store I was working at. One of the weirdest experiences of my life.”

“What did you do?”

I shrugged. “I fucked her.” I said with a straight face. Katrina’s mouth fell open. “Just joking! I’ve got standards. I avoided the shit out of her until she got the message I wasn’t interested in-”

“Hey babe!” said a man who sat down on the other side Katrina. He looked like he came from money. Everything he had on was Abercrombie and Fitch, from his trucker hat to his sandals. I also suspected the choker-like shell necklace he had around his neck was an accessory from the same store, but I since I wasn’t a fan of the brand, I didn’t know for sure.

“Hi Michael.” Said Katrina coldly. She turned away from him and back to me.

“Since when do you hang around dykes?” He asked. I could smell the strong smell of vodka coming from his mouth.

Katrina blushed with anger. “That’s none of your business.”

“If you ever want to fuck me again, it’s my business.”

Katrina’s voice dropped fifty degrees. “I don’t. That’s why I haven’t returned any of the twenty-five messages you’ve left me this week.”

Michael turned red, stood up and got in her face. “Fuck you, you whore!”

I got up immediately. “You’ve got about three seconds to back down, or I’m going to put you down.” I said evenly. Michael outweighed me by at least fifty pounds of muscle, but I wasn’t going to let him hurt Katrina. Donohue stood up as well.

“Get out of here, Michael.” said Vicky from behind the bar. “Sleep it off.” she urged.

“You really think you can take me, you fucking cunt?” He asked me, his face twisted up in disgust. “We’ll see.” He left the bar.

I took a deep breath and sat back down in my chair. A familiar numbness started to settle into my skin like Novocain. The familiar icy nothingness that had once protected me when I was a kid, was now more trouble than it was worth. “Vicky. Give me a jagerbomb. Quickly!” I said suddenly.

“Morgan, are you going to-” started Donohue. She knew what was coming. She had seen it happen to me twice before.

“I hope not. The jagerbomb should stop it from happening.” Already I could feel my vision start to blur, and my fingers were fumbling to grip the glass of my drink. I drank it down quickly, and the numbness faded.

Katrina touched my hand in concern. “Are you going to be okay?”

I chuckled. “Yeah. I was just shaken up, you know?” I shot a glance at Donohue not to say anything about my condition. I wasn’t a weak person, and I didn’t want anyone to think that was the case.

Katrina took my hand. “I’m sorry. Michael’s such an asshole. That’s why I only slept with him the one time. Biggest mistake of my life. Thank you for standing up to him like you did. If no one had said anything-”

“Guys like that get off on fear. Show them you have a backbone, and they’ll back down.” I ran my hand over my head nervously. I wished I had had the courage to stand up for myself. Now it was too late.

“He probably wouldn’t have been able to throw a punch anyway. He’s been drinking nothing but whiskey and vodka all night.” said Vicky.

“What a piece of shit!” Hissed Donohue, getting up from her bar stool. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea. Morgan let’s just-”

“Wait. I’m not running.” I said firmly. “I’ll drink wherever the hell I want to drink. Give me another jagerbomb, Vicky.”

Vicky widened her eyes, but gave me the jagerbomb. I knew I was in trouble when I didn’t taste it. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I thought about how stupid I was, trying to stop it from happening with alcohol. Nothing could stop it. Katrina could see something was wrong. She looked worried. “Maybe we should go.”

“I’m fine.” I said, my voice without any inflection.

“No you’re not.” said Donohue looking me in the eye. “I’m taking you home, even if I have to pick you up and drag you there.”

“That’s not necessary.” I said mechanically. I stood up and started walking out of the bar without saying goodbye to anyone. In my state, such a greeting made no difference. Donohue followed behind me closely. When I got to my car, my knees buckled when I saw what had been done to it. Someone, Michael no doubt, had taken a can of black spray paint and written ‘dyke’ ‘cunt’ and ‘bitch’ on my doors. I didn’t realize I was falling until I felt Donohue yank me back to my feet.

“Can you give me your keys?” she asked in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. My hands pawed through my pockets, but I couldn’t get my hands to work well enough to grip my car keys. I heard footsteps approaching, but I couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from. I felt Donohue take my keys from me, and another pair of arms, lithe yet strong supported me.

“Don, what’s wrong with her?” I could hear Katrina’s voice, and it was very close, but it took me a while to realize she was the one who was holding me up.

“I don’t know exactly, but she’s going to be gone for a while.” I could no longer see anything, or tell where the voices were coming from. The numbness was taking me over.

“Gone.” I was vaguely aware that the word was supposed to be a question.

“Physically she’ll be here, but she won’t be able to respond to anything. I’ve read up on stuff like this. I think she goes into a trance.”

“We should leave her car here. We can get the police in the morning…”

The voices faded out, and when I came to, I was in my own bed. I turned and looked to see Katrina sitting next to me in a chair. “Are you okay?” She asked, leaning over me to brush her soft fingertips over my forehead.

“Yeah.” I said, sitting up to break the contact. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried. Donohue said you’d be fine, but I wanted to make sure myself. Do you need some water or juice? I noticed you didn’t have any coffee.”

“I can get everything myself, thanks.” I told her, getting out of bed and walking out into my small kitchen. My face was hot with embarrassment. There was no way I’d ever impress her again, not with what had just happened to me.

Katrina followed me out, watching me as I got a bottled water from my fridge. “You must have really been through something.” I looked at her and just stared, trying to hide my raw hurt. My painful past was something I avoided even thinking about. Her words were an understatement. Unexpectedly, she hugged me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

Her embrace was strangely soothing. When was the last time someone had held me like that? I couldn’t remember. I was unable to think for several seconds, breathing in her heady vanilla body lotion, and feeling her warmth. “I’m not hurt. Really. I’m not.” I pulled away from her, and didn’t look her in the eye.

She was quiet, waiting for me to say something else, but I didn’t. “Are you going to go to the police?”

I took a hard gulp from my water bottle. “Yeah. There’ll be a shit load of paperwork to do. Then I have to get my car painted. It needed it anyway.” I tried to joke.

“Do you mind if I come? The police will need another witness anyway.” She looked worried again.

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I know I don’t deal with traumatic situations in a normal way, but it works for me. It has for a long time. I’m sorry you had to miss out on a good night’s sleep.” I knew I was rambling, but I needed to convince her that I was alright.

Katrina smiled slightly. “This is college. Who sleeps?”

I returned the smile. “Still. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to go take a shower, and then I’ll walk down to go get my car.”

Katrina nodded. “I’ll wait.”

“You don’t have to come, I’ll be-”

“Fine. I know. I just want to be there for you. That’s what friends do, you know?”

I looked away, not wanting her to know how much that meant to me. “Don’t you need to go back to your apartment to change?” I offered, still trying to get her to change her mind.

“I picked up a change of clothes last night before taking you home.” She pointed out, and I realized she had dressed down considerably with jeans and a Gopher band shirt.

I sighed. “I really don’t see why it’s necessary.”

“It probably isn’t, but it couldn’t hurt, could it?”

“Alright. I’ll shower and be out in a minute.” I said, giving in.

Katrina rewarded me with a half-smile, and gave me another hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I swallowed hard. I meant to tell her not to get used to hugging me, but the hug was too brief to make a big deal out of it. I got my shower, dressed in something that would make the police take my story seriously, and we left to get my car. I no longer felt the numbness as I drove my vandalized car to the police station, but I felt unsure of myself, half-expecting it return at any given time. At the police station, me and Katrina gave written statements, and we were told there would be an investigation. When we left the police station, I expected Katrina to go back to her apartment, but she wouldn’t. She waited with me while I got my car painted and entertained me with stories from her sophomore year when she briefly changed her major to computer sciences. I was glad she was there for me, and when my car was finished, I told her so.

“Thanks, Trina. This probably would have been a horrible day if it wasn’t for you.”

She beamed at me, and I felt a whole lot better. “I figured as much. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay-”

I forgot what I was going to say because she hugged me again. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” she said again, and then she went back to her car and drove off, without saying anything else.

I sighed, feeling less of a woman than I had twenty-four hours before. If there was anything I hated, it was pity, and surely Katrina pitied me for being so fucked up. I caught my last class of the week, studied until ten, and called up Alex. Alex was a pretty cool girl. Whenever I needed a little physical comfort, she could usually deliver, no strings attached. She came over a little after eleven, and damn did she look good! Short, spiky blonde hair, hazel-green eyes, a come hither smile…just looking at her made me wet. We went at it immediately. Alex usually liked being on the bottom, but she knew what a shitty day I had, so she got on top and stroked me out. Then, I returned the favor.

“Thanks. I really needed this.” I told Alex, once we were finished.

“Anytime.” She said, licking my lower lip. I gave her long kiss, knowing that was her way of saying goodbye. Soon, she was putting her clothes back on, and I was going to sleep. No strings meant no strings. In the morning, I felt a whole lot better.

Donohue called me at about ten in the morning on Saturday. She knew me well enough to give me my space after I had a zoning out episode. “Are you alright? I heard Katrina took pretty good care of you.”

I sighed, not in the mood for Donohue’s teasing. “Nothing-”

“Happened. Right. Well, I guess she’s officially straight. For now. Did she at least take your temperature?”

I laughed. “No. She just stayed with me. She was really nice.”

“Your dark cabal of friends has been enlarged. Should I be worried?”

It was true I didn’t have many friends. Not everyone could put up with my secrecy. My past was a topic I tended to avoid taking about, and it made a lot of people uncomfortable after awhile. A lot of the friends I could have had just drifted away. I didn’t let it bother me. As long as no one knew the truth, I could handle not being Miss Popularity. In my opinion, it was a fair trade. “No. You know me. It’s not going to become a habit.”

“So Katrina just…happened?”

“I gave her a spoon, and we connected. Didn’t you bump into me, and threaten to kick my ass when we first met?”

“I was trashed-”

“And I ended up taking your drunk behind home! I seem to make friends only after I save someone’s ass.”

Donohue laughed at that. “You have a point!”

We arranged to meet at The Hole, since The Gophers were playing. I thought about inviting Katrina, but I felt weird about the night and day before. I didn’t want her hovering around me, thinking I was going to break. I met Donohue at the Hole, and The Gophers were excellent, as usual. Donohue was getting her share of attention, both male and female. I was happy for her, but The Hole wasn’t my scene. I liked dance clubs more than dive bars. I took a seat at the bar and got a Heineken. Not that I needed it. I had already pre-gamed with three shots of vodka, and was feeling pretty good. That’s probably why I didn’t notice Vicky sitting next to me.

“Morgan? How dare you not say hi to me!” She shrieked in mock disbelief.

“Sorry. I didn’t recognize you out of that skimpy little top you were wearing two nights ago.” I teased. She was dressed more conservatively in a V-neck long sleeved shirt.

“Ha ha ha.” She said.

“I’m surprised you’re not at Silhouette, drinking with your friends.”

“Friends? At Silhouette? I just bartend there, I’d never actually drink there.” She snorted.

“That bad, huh?”

“We get a lot of assholes in, like Michael-” Vicky stopped herself short.

“It’s whatever.” I said, lying easily. “My car needed a new paint job anyway.”

Vicky blew out a breath of air. “I heard about that. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “Shit happens.”

She looked at me searchingly. “Are you okay?”

I stared at her. “Katrina didn’t tell you anything?”

Vicky shook her head. “I could pretty much see what happened myself. You were shook up, and you went home. Wait, you two didn’t hookup?”

“No. It’s nothing.” I interjected, thankful Katrina hadn‘t given Vicky any details. “She’s not like that anyway.”

“Well, this is college-” Vicky started to say with a wink.

“No. Trust me. She’s still cool with me though.”

“Glad to hear it.” Said a voice close to my ear. It was Katrina, decked out in a Lycra short skirt and a tank top. She took a seat next to me. The three of us started talking, and she never brought up what happened two nights before. I was relieved, and lost myself in the conversation. Vicky was going to be a chemist for makeup companies, since they were always in demand. She already had three internships to choose from: Lancome, Cover Girl, and Maybelline, though she said makeup was really bad for your skin.

“I don’t wear it that much. Kind of ironic, right?”

“A makeup maker who won’t wear the makeup she makes? Yes. Totally ironic.” I agreed.

“If there’s anything really bad in a new line of makeup, could you give me a call, so I can know in advance?” said Katrina conspiratorially. “We can keep it just between us.”

Vicky chuckled. “Of course.”

Just then, Donohue came over with a man on her arm. I recognized him as Bones, the drummer from The Gophers. He was covered in tattoos, and had his nose pierced like a bull. Still, most women who came to see the band came to see him. “Guess who I found, you guys!” said Donohue, her usually manic grin wider than usual.

“Hey, Bones. Hey, Donohue.” The three of us said in unison.

“Don’t worry about taking me home tonight, Morgan. I’m in great hands.” She said as they left together.

“Lucky her.” Said Vicky.

A thin arm snaked it’s way between me and Katrina across the bar. The bartender immediately slid the person a Budweiser. I recognized the hands immediately, with the black handcuff tattoos in the wrists. It was Mr. Sirius himself, the lead singer of The Gophers. He wasn’t as attractive as the drummer, but he got his fair share of attention since he was the face of the band. We all watched him take a swig of his beer, watching his Adam’s apple bob under his red and black dog collar tattoo. “Hi.” he said when he was finished. “It’s Katrina right?”

Katrina blushed. “Yes. It is.”

“I noticed you’re usually here whenever we play. How do you like the band?”

Katrina nodded. “It’s great.”

“She has all three of your albums.” added Vicky.

“Really?” Asked Mr. Sirius with an ever widening grin, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Do you want my seat?” I asked him.

“Sure.” He said, his eyes still on Katrina. I got up and gave it to him. Cock blocking had never been a specialty of mine. Vicky got up and abandoned hers as well. We decided to go get coffee a few blocks down the street, but not before I got a weird look from Katrina. It was almost like she was begging me not to go. I mouthed goodnight to her, her expression brightened, and she turned back to Mr. Sirius.

At the coffee shop, the subject changed to our personal lives. Vicky had a steady boyfriend, though they had only been exclusive since the summertime. I, of course, had had no serious relationships. Mid-way through my coffee, a pretty young underclassman at another table struck up a conversation with me. It was obvious she was interested, but didn’t know how to ask me out. I assumed she was a freshman, and still figuring out her sexuality. I wasn’t really interested in freshmen. They could get really clingy, especially if it was their first time with a woman. I got her phone number anyway, just in case I changed my mind later.

After I sobered up, me and Vicky said goodnight to each other, and I drove home. I found myself wondering if Katrina ever went home with Mr. Sirius, but decided it was none of my business. I went to sleep pretty quickly, and late in the morning, walked to the fitness center on-campus and worked out for an hour. I was leaving just when Katrina was arriving.

“I didn’t know you worked out.” I told her, still toweling off my sweat.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” she told me with a wink.

I gave her a small smile. “Well, I’ll see you around.”

“Wait, don’t you want to know what happened between me and Mr. Sirius?” she asked.

Although me and Donohue went into detail about our hookups all the time, I felt uncomfortable talking to Katrina about hers. “It’s not like it’s my business.” I said.

“It’s not like I’m going to go on and on about the size of his dick.” said Katrina, rolling her eyes.

I swallowed hard. If we were going to be friends, I was going to have to hear about her hookups eventually. “Alright. What happened?”

Katrina whispered in my ear. “He ate me.”

I grinned. “Was he any good?”

“Oh, yes. I haven’t come like that since Ma…hmm. I wonder what his name was?”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, if a girl was really that good, I’d have her e-mail, phone number, class schedule, and address memorized.” Katrina smiled sadly for the first time since I’d known her. “What?”

She shook her head and looked away for a moment. I thought for sure she was going to cry, but the moment passed, and she smiled. “Nothing. Do you mind staying to be my spotter?”

“My workout’s done for the day, and there are more than enough men in here who’ll jump at the chance to spot you.”

“Please. It just won’t be the same.” She pleaded. She looked so pathetic, I couldn’t think of any reason to refuse her.

“Whatever.” I muttered. “You’re lucky you think you’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Katrina asked, springing on my words like a tiger.

“What I said was, you think you’re cute. Confidence is a good thing.” I didn’t want to hit on her at all. I scolded myself for not being on point, but I was tired after my workout, and my emotional barriers were a little shaky.

Katrina’s expression brightened. “You think I’m cute!”

I frowned. “What does that matter? You straight girls kill me with that. All that matters is that you’re a half-way decent friend.”

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “Just half-way decent?”

I sighed. “You’re awesome. You’re an awesome friend.” I admitted quietly before quickly walking to a bench press before I could gauge her reaction. “Now let’s hurry up and get this over with.”

At the end of her workout, Katrina still wasn’t ready to let me go home. “Get lunch with me.”

“No.” As much as I liked being with Katrina, I knew I had studying to do, and she looked really good in her cutoff jean shorts and gym shirt clinging to her body with sweat. Her appearance wasn’t a good thing to notice considering we were platonic friends, and she had no interest in me.

Katrina raised an eyebrow at my tone. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just need to go home. See you later.” I left quickly before she could stop me. I went to my dorm, grabbed a random candy bar, and started studying. Thirty minutes later, someone was knocking on my door. I frowned, hoping it wasn’t my mother. Everyone else usually called my dorm room before they came over. I went to my door and looked through my peephole. It was Katrina, and she was carrying some kind of bag.

“Morgan, it’s me. I’m sorry I was so pushy earlier. I brought you lunch. I hope you like Chinese.” She called out.

I opened the door a crack. “Buying me lunch and coming over when I’m studying is still being pushy.” I informed her.

“It’s me being nice.” She opened the bag. “I’ve got General Tso’s Chicken, Won Tons, Shrimp Fried Rice, and Lo Mein. If you want me to go, just pick two and I’ll take whatever’s left and leave.”

She is too sweet! Why isn’t she gay? I thought. “You win this time. Come in.”

Katrina took a look around, taking in the loveseat, two easy chairs, and big screen t.v. “Nice dorm. I really didn’t check it out the last time I was here.”

“Thanks. This is my roommates’ doing, though she’s always at her boyfriend’s.”

“I was wondering about that. I figured you had a roommate, but I wasn’t sure.” She looked worried all of a sudden, biting her lip.

“Don’t worry. She’s cool. She’s not going to bite your head off if she sees you here without a proper invitation to tea.” I said in a fake British accent.

Katrina raised her eyebrows suddenly. “Wow. That’s really good.”

“Not really. Just something I picked up.” She sounded so sincere, she made nervous. “I’ve really got to get back to my books…”

“Forgetting something?” Katrina waved the bag of food in front of my face.

“Eating. Right.” I said, a little embarrassed. I got plates for each of us, and we dug in quickly. “This makes free meal number two in a week. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were plotting something.” I teased, after we were finished.

“No. It’s just my way of apologizing. Whenever my mom would forget to take me to the zoo or the mall like she promised, she would cook me something as an apology. She would make chocolate crème de menthe squares, or puff pastries filled with fresh strawberries and whipped crème. And if it was really important, like the time she couldn’t make it home for my birthday, she would always make me my favorite: caramel sensation.”

“What’s a caramel sensation?”

“Caramel sauce sandwiched between anywhere from six to twelve layers of moist chocolate chip caramel cake. And all that was frosted with whipped caramel frosting covered with chopped peanuts, pecans, and walnuts.”

“Wow. That’s some apology.”

“Yeah. But I only got that when my mom really forgot something important. Anyway, that’s why I’ve been feeding you so much. I’m not really planning on fattening you up and rolling you down to the meat market.” She gave me a sidelong glance. “I don’t think I’d be able to fatten you up even if I tried. You are in shape, girl.”

I smiled at that. I usually thought of myself as always being one size larger than I wanted. “Thanks.”

Katrina cleared our things away and even washed the dirty dishes, ignoring my protests. “I’ll let you get back to studying now.”

“I should be thanking you. This was really nice.” I told her as she was leaving.

She smiled and nodded. “See you.” I went back to studying with a smile, having enough energy to study for another six hours before calling it a night. I scraped together some chump change and rented “Not Another Teen Movie” just for shits and giggles. By the time it was over, I was curled up in my easy chair, passed out.

I woke up in the morning to drive to my first class of the week, and momentarily didn’t recognize my car, now a pleasant-looking steel blue instead of a rust orange. All the crap that happened to me Friday night came back in a rush, but I brushed my feelings aside and went to class. I figured they would never charge Michael with ruining my car. If no one saw him do it, the police really couldn’t charge him with doing it, as long as he wasn’t waving a can of black spray paint around and bragging about it. I spent the rest of the day in a fog, hardly paying attention to anything in two classes.

“You okay?” Donohue asked me over a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs in the cafeteria.

“I’m just thinking about my car.” I said, taking a gulp of my chocolate milk.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone gets theirs.”

I nodded, but I didn’t believe it. “Yeah.”

Things were uneventful for half of the week, until someone knocked on my door Wednesday night. It was Katrina. “Hey. I hope I’m not coming at a bad time.”

“No. I was just studying. What’s up?” I asked, letting her in.

She sat down on my loveseat. “Is this all you do? Study?”

“Well, this is college, and if I want to keep that internship, I have to stay focused.”

“Hmm…I guess you don’t care about the six week classes they’re offering in Paris next spring.”

I shrugged. “Even if my scholarship covered the cost of the classes, I’d still have to pay out of pocket for transportation, meals, and random expenses. Trust me, if I could afford it, I would have taken a trip to Belgium my freshman year.”

Katrina raised her eyebrows. “Belgium?”

“Yeah. Low crime rate, and they get way less visitors than England, France, and Italy. It’s a different choice, I guess.”

Katrina sighed. “That sucks. I’ve already put my deposit down for Paris. I was hoping you could go with me.”

“Sorry. But you’ll have a great time in Paris without me. Just take lots of pictures so you can show me what it’s really like. You know. The real parts they don‘t show on travel brochures.”

“Sounds like you’d want to get lost down some back alley and be cursed out by some American-hating Parisians for asking for directions.” she said conspiratorially.

I laughed. “You read my mind!”

Katrina gave me a sad look. “It’s going to suck without you. All the other students are going to be underclassmen. Who am I going to drink with?”

“The legal drinking age is way lower in Europe than it is here. Trust me, everyone is going to be thoroughly fucked up throughout the trip.”

Katrina actually started to pout. “There isn’t any way you can go?”

“How much is the deposit?”

“Two thousand dollars. But it’s for eight credit hours.”

I whistled. “For two thousand dollars I could get ten credit hours right here.”

“But how many do you need?”

“Eight.” I admitted evenly. “Why do you want me to go so bad? You aren’t scared, are you?”

“No. I just like being around you. I can be really pushy, but you handle me well enough.” She looked away shyly. “I’ve even been called intimidating, but you don’t seem to rattled by me all.”

I blinked. “Who do you think you are? A superstar?”

Katrina giggled. “Spice Girls? Nice!”

I laughed with her. “But seriously, I’m sorry I can’t go. It would be really fun to go, even if it’s the same country every ignorant American goes to.”

Katrina rolled her eyes. “So says the woman who’s never been out of the country.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been to Jamaica a few times to see my dad’s side of the family. They’re super religious, so we don’t talk much, and if I do, it’s usually them asking for money.”

Katrina wrinkled her eyebrows. “Why would they ask you for money? Why wouldn’t they ask your dad?”

“My dad’s been dead since I was five years old.” I said bluntly.

Katrina covered her mouth with her hands. “This is what I get for making assumptions. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. Anyway, Jamaica’s a poor country. My relatives assume anyone living over here has it made, and can give out money whenever.” I sighed heavily. A month before, a cousin needed some money to get his cab repaired, or else he couldn’t work. I sadly had to refuse him.

“That’s not fair to you. Especially if you don’t really like them.”

I sank into my easy chair. “It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just that…it’s a complicated situation.”

Katrina nodded and whistled. “They don’t know that you’re gay.”

“Considering homosexuality is illegal in Jamaica? No. They don’t know. They’d probably never speak to me again if they did. And then I wouldn’t be able to help them.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. I think I need a drink.” I got up and got one of the Heinekens from my fridge that I kept for emergencies.

“Can I have one too?” Katrina called.

“Sure. You’re getting the last one though.” I handed her the beer, and I continued talking. “It’s just really awkward. Jamaica is totally family oriented. You get married, have a dozen kids, you know? My cousin Lucille is a year older than me, and already has three kids and a husband. She always wants to know when I’m going to get married, and I never know what to say. Sometimes I just want to blurt out that I’m a big fat dyke, just to get it over with. And then other times I want to lie and say I have boyfriend, so they won’t think I’m a Satan worshipping freak.” I took a big swig of my beer.

“You’re not a freak. And if they can’t accept you for who you are, then maybe you shouldn’t talk to them.”

“They’re good people. They really are. They just think being gay is wrong. Really, really wrong.” I sighed. “As soon as I hit twenty-five, they’ll know for sure. I swear, everyone in Jamaica between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two is already married.” I shook my head. “Whatever.”

Katrina tilted her head and looked at me. “You’re an onion.”

It was a good thing I didn’t have any beer in my mouth, because I immediately started laughing. “What? An onion?”

“Every time I think I’ve met the real you, you peel back another layer and surprise me.”

“Another layer of what?”

She poked me. “That full suit of armor you wear.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I muttered, drinking more beer. I didn’t say anything else for awhile.

“I’d apologize, but this time I don’t think I said anything wrong.” offered Katrina, breaking the silence. I continued drinking my beer. She looked at me until I made eye contact with her again. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just don’t talk about stuff like this.” I shrugged. “That’s just me I guess.”

There was more silence until Katrina spoke again. “That’s why you haven’t mentioned your car ever since you got it painted. Did the police ever arrest Michael?”

I gave her a dry chuckle. “You’re joking right? Of course not.”

Katrina looked away and sighed. “I’m surprised you can laugh about it.”

“It wasn’t a happy laugh. ” I finished my beer and slammed it down on the table. “Whew! That was good.” I noticed Katrina had only taken a sip of hers. “Are you going to finish that?”

Katrina downed her beer in seconds and belched loudly. “You could say that.”

Any depression I had vanished, and I laughed, waving my hands in front on my face. “Whoa! Katrina the fire-breather! Shit!”

“That was pretty loud, wasn’t it?” We talked about our best drinking experiences for the next hour or so until there was a break in conversation.

“Thank you for the other night at The Hole when you didn’t tell Vicky about my…condition.” I said quietly.

Katrina smiled. ‘No problem.” We kept talking, and by the time I looked at the clock on my DVD player, it was one in the morning. “Damn, I didn’t realize it was that late. Do you mind if I spend the night?”

I blinked. “Uh…sure. You can have my bed if you want it.”

“I really couldn’t take your bed. You’ve been studying hard, and I didn’t even have any classes today.” She quickly stretched out on my loveseat. “Your couch will be fine.”

I eyed her long legs, which extended far beyond the edge of the couch. “You don’t exactly fit on that.”

“I’ve slept in smaller places.” she said with a wink.

I blinked again, trying to avert my gaze from her long legs, kicking in time to the radio. “If that’s where you really want to sleep, all I can do is give you a blanket.”

“Do you have an old oversized t-shirt I can borrow? I really don’t want to sleep in my clothes.”

I just stared at her beautiful shapely legs, which kept on bobbing off the end of my couch. “No.”

“You sure? I know I’m taller, but I think we’re both the same size.”

“What size are you?” I asked.

“I’m an eight.”

“Well that’s a little embarrassing for me. I’m a ten.”

“Really? Then anything you can get me will fit just fine.”

I quickly got her a random band shirt and threw it at her, and mumbled goodnight before I could see her change into it either in real life or in my imagination. I went into my room and tried to forget that a beautiful, untouchable woman was sleeping in another room. It really didn’t work. I ended up looking through three issues of Playboy to settle my restless mind so I could get some sleep.

In the morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs, and wondered where the hell it was coming from. The only time I got a good breakfast was when I ate at the campus cafeteria. I got up and suspiciously opened the door to my room. Katrina was already standing there, and I jumped a mile.

“Jesus!” I shrieked.

“It’s only me. Can I come in?” Too groggy to refuse, I nodded and opened my door. Katrina handed me a bag emblazoned with the Burger King logo, and a Styrofoam cup filled with orange juice. “I got you some breakfast.”

“You’re gonna go broke feeding me.” I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

“Not really. I usually eat out at least five times a week. It’s not gonna kill me to share a few with you.”
She quickly cleared my desk of all my papers, which were already in neat piles, and she pulled up a chair next to the one I already had. “When’s your next class?”

“Not until twelve.”

“Oops! I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I threw off your schedule.”

“It’s okay.” I dug through the bag, pulled out a random breakfast sandwich and started munching. “You’re too nice.”

Katrina snatched my sandwich away. “Really?” I gave her a look, and she handed it back. “You know I have an ulterior motive for doing all this, right?” she said wickedly.

I just stared at her, almost holding my breath. If she wanted what I thought she wanted, it would kind of suck at that point, because I respected her as a friend. “What do you want?”

“I want you to go on the cruise with me.”

I squinted at her. “Didn’t we have this conversation earlier?”

Katrina took a big bite of her hash browns before answering. “I’m sure if you check again, you’ll find that it’s possible to go.”

“I don’t have any emergency money, no travel insurance-”

“Don’t worry about all that. Just look into it.”

I groaned. “You really want to see Paris, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Even the Eiffel Tower?”

“Not really. It just looks weird.”

“But it’s historical. It has years of history!” I said, in my best impression of a historian. Katrina and I laughed together. “I totally get what you mean.” I sighed around my sandwich. “I don’t see how I’m going to go, though.”

“Come on. When’s the next time you’ll be able to hook up with a cute French girl?”

I sighed. “That‘s not going to happen.”

Katrina rolled her eyes. “You have such low expectations of everything. I’ll make you a bet. If you look into going, and your scholarship pays for your trip, I’ll pay your expenses. If you look into it, and your scholarship won’t pay for anything, I’ll send you back all the homegrown Parisian porn I can find.”

I frowned, not believing she was serious. “How exactly do I lose this bet? It sounds like a win/win situation for me.”

“It’s actually a win/lose situation for me. It’ll suck if you don’t go.” she pouted.

“Why aren’t you bugging Vicky to go?”

Katrina shook her head. “Vicky’s schedule is totally crazy next semester, since that’s when she starts her internship.”

I grinned evilly. “Take Donohue.”

Katrina gave me a look. “She’d just be looking for bars and underground music. I’m not going all the way to Paris to do that.”

“What makes you think I want to hang out at stuffy caf's with people smoking and drinking coffee?”

“That’s not what I have in mind. I want to see Paris. Really see it.” She showed me a flyer with more details. With only three mandatory classes, we would pretty much be left to our own devices most of the time. “Imagine what we’d be able to do! We could take a day trip to the countryside, or see all the old palaces at Versailles. I bet we could go anywhere in France!”

“Whoa, calm down. Suddenly studying sounds a lot less stressful than you dragging me all over a foreign country.”

“Sorry.” she said, blushing. “I’ve just never been out of the country before.”

“You haven’t been out of the country before, Miss Silver Spoon?” I laughed.

“So not funny!” she said, throwing a pillow at my head.

“Violence is not the answer, girl!” I chuckled as I caught the pillow easily. “So why haven’t you ever been abroad?”

Katrina sighed. “My parents are in love with the West Coast. As in, Aspen and Venice Beach are the only places we’ve ever vacationed. It sucked as a kid, let me tell you. Everyone at my private school had been to England or Paris. Snorkeled in Mexico and the Bahamas. Eaten real Schezwan cooking in China and Japan. I just want to see what I’ve been missing.”

“Wow. Talk about spoiled.” I snickered.

Katrina gave me a look. “Don’t be mean.”

“Most people don’t ever get to see Aspen or California. God knows I’d like to see those places.”

“Well, I’d trade your traveling experiences for mine any day.” She said. “I just stayed cooped up in resorts when I wasn’t at the beach or skiing.”

“You are so not helping yourself right now.” I grinned.

“More…please come with me. I never thought I’d have to beg anyone to go on a trip with me.” she whined.

“You think you’re that hot, don’t you?”

“Well, I have been told that several times before, and you seem to think so-”

“I have never called you hot!” I said vehemently.

“Oh, that’s okay. I won’t tell Donohue if you don’t.” she winked.

I turned away. I didn’t know how to respond to Katrina’s mild flirtations other than to give her a weak “Whatever.” and go back to eating my breakfast sandwich.

“Are you embarrassed? I’m only teasing. You are too tense, girl! You’ve got to loosen up.” she let her eyes trail over my body. “But at least now I know how to make you blush.”

I frowned. “I’m too dark to blush.”

She reached over and lightly tapped my cheek. “Your cheeks feel pretty hot to me, sweetie.” I froze, and Katrina almost fell out of her chair laughing. “Oh my God! You are so stunned right now!”

“I am so not.” I denied vehemently.

“Chill out. You make me just want to tease you more when you get all embarrassed.”

“I’m so chill, I could freeze water.” I said calmly.

“Riiight.” she said, rolling her eyes. We finished eating our breakfast in silence. “So do we have a deal?”

I sighed tiredly. “I can’t let you pay for all my expenses. It wouldn’t be right.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem. Just look into it, alright?”

I sighed in defeat. “Alright.”

Katrina grinned and hugged me. “This is going to be so great!” She picked up our garbage and took it with her. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

I nodded, stunned from her hug. “Okay.”

“And I will be checking up on you to make sure you checked the trip out.” she warned teasingly.

“Stalker.” I muttered.

“I wouldn’t stalk you if you didn’t like it so much…” she said with a grin. When I froze, she laughed. “Too easy!” she giggled as she walked out into the hallway.

Over a late lunch in the cafeteria, Donohue gave me a strange look when I told her what Katrina was offering me. Then she smacked me on the forehead. “Ow! What the hell is your problem?!” I screeched.

“Wake up! She wants to fuck you!” Donohue exclaimed, shaking me.

“Would you stop that shit!” I said, pushing her away. “Give me proof of that!”

“Okay. First of all, you’ve only known her a few weeks. This is something a long-time friend would ask you to do. And a lifelong friend at that.”

“Freshman who just meet each other hook up and go on semesters-at-sea all the time.” I pointed out.

Donohue grinned. “You said hook up. That's exactly what I'm talking about.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Is that the best you can do?”

“She’s offering to pay for everything. What kind of a friend would do that?” She asked, as if she already knew the answer.

“So you think I’m sleeping with her?”

Donohue shrugged and broke eye contact with me, taking a long slurp from her drink. “I wouldn’t judge you if she was paying you back for turning her out.”

“That’s prostitution.” I said. “I’d never do anything like that.”

Donohue chuckled. “It’s not prostitution. Chill the fuck out! When you met that girl Connie as a sophomore, you were buying her all kinds of shit. It’s called appreciation for popping your cherry.”

My cheeks burned, and I couldn’t look Donohue in the eye. “It’s not like that between me and Katrina.”

“Really? Then what’s it like?” Said Donohue, pressing me for an answer.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s definitely not a girlfriend thing.”

Donohue sighed. “You wouldn’t know a girlfriend thing if it bit you in the ass. Have you ever even had a girlfriend?”

“Considering every bi-curious girl wants to take me for a test drive and leave me with the dealer, no. I haven’t had a real hand-holding, kissing-in-public, spend-the-whole-weekend-fucking-your-brains-out, girlfriend.” I said, with thinly veiled aggression.

Donohue raised both of her eyebrows. “Damn, girl. I had no idea you were that hard up.”

“I’m not. Alex comes over whenever. And I have the number a cute little red-haired freshman gave me. I’m not hurting in the sex department.”

“But you want more than sex.”

“Yeah.” I admitted.

Donohue was quiet for a moment. “You want what everyone else wants.” She shrugged. “I was fucking Bones when it hit me: I had what about a hundred other girls have had! It’s kind of sick if you think about it. Everyone wants someone to be exclusive to them.”

I sighed. “It’s not just about exclusive sex. I just want a woman who doesn’t give a damn if she’s with another woman. Alex is like a vampire. I've never even seen her in the daytime, and I can’t call her before five p.m.”

“Well, maybe this cruise with Katrina is exactly what you need.” grinned Donohue.

“Nothing is going to happen!” I said vehemently.

“I doubt that.” said Donohue with a smirk. “Paris is called the city of love, remember?”

“You suck.”

“Not as much as Katrina is going to…”

“Stop it.” I warned Donohue.

“Fine. But if you come back without fucking her, you have no game whatsoever.”

I shook off Donohue’s words on my way to financial aid. It didn’t really matter. I didn’t expect to have enough funding to take the trip. And if I did, I decided to tell Katrina I didn’t, so I couldn‘t go. I told myself it was because I was dead set on graduating with rigorous college transcripts, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. I was uncomfortable with the fact that Katrina knew so much about me. What had possessed me to spill my guts to her so many times before? I felt a little vulnerable around her. The crazy thing was, a part of me didn’t mind at all, which scared me even more.

Unfortunately, Katrina had already met with someone from financial aid on my behalf, and the woman in charge of financial aid liked her job a little too much. I knew I was in trouble when she had an answer to all my questions, and said that my tuition and at least half of my expenses would be covered by my scholarship. Of course, I tried to talk my way out of signing up for more information, but the bubbly woman already had a small folder of information waiting for me. Sighing in defeat, I took the information home with me, and read up on the trip. There would be a week-long cruise setting out from Jacksonville, Florida to a port city in France. From the landing point in the city would be a day-long tour of Brittany to Paris. After staying in Paris for two months, there would be a tour of southern France, followed by another cruise home. I had to admit, it wasn’t anything I’d have the chance to do again before I started my career.

I sat in my recliner, pouring over one of the brochures, when I heard a knock on my door. I knew without looking who it was. “Hey. Katrina.”

“Hey.” She said, with a grin. “I’d ask you how everything went, but I already know.” She winked and stepped into my dorm room, making herself comfortable on my couch.

“Huh. A little smug aren’t you?”

Katrina looked upwards. “I’m self-satisfied, and amused. So yeah. I’m feeling a little smug.”

“I can go.” I said flatly, a little annoyed that she had been right all along.

“I always knew you could.” She said gently. “You just needed a little push.” She patted her the spot next to her on the loveseat. “Let’s talk about the trip. I don’t bite.” I reluctantly sat next her, and we poured over the brochure. I was relieved that she didn‘t flirt with me as we discussed our trip. I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself from running away from her if she so much as looked at me funny. I found myself scoffing at Donohue’s words when Katrina offered to order some pizza.

“As long we split the difference.” I stipulated.

“Deal.” she said with a grin. It was midway through our feast of mushroom and olive topped pizza that Katrina realized something. “Thanksgiving is in a few days. Are you going home?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s always the same every year. Dinner at my Aunt Sandie’s with T.V. and stuff. Nothing too interesting. Are you going home?”

Katrina stretched an extra cheesy bite of pizza before putting it in her mouth. “It will just be my parents and me. I’m an only child, so they get upset when they can’t see me.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go.” We both said at the same time. I looked at each other in shock, and then chuckled spontaneously.

“I don’t want to go because my parents are going to be drilling me about potential husbands, and potential jobs, and potential stomach ulcers.” Katrina rolled her eyes for effect. “What about you?”

I shrugged. “Everyone always brings their girlfriends or boyfriends to Thanksgiving dinner. How pathetic is it I’ve never been able to do that?”

“Hmm.” Katrina leaned back into the loveseat and touched her hair. “Isn’t Alex your girlfriend?”

I frowned. “Who told you about Alex?”

“Donohue. She said you two get together every now and then.” Katrina said in a casual, non-judgy way.

“She shouldn’t have said anything to you.” I said.

“Why not? I thought we were friends. I tell you who I hook up with.”

“You hook up with men. It’s totally okay for you. It’s not the same if you’re a woman hooking up with another woman. And Alex isn’t even out.” I felt more than a little on edge, and quickly washed my pizza down with some Pepsi.

Katrina sighed. “Are you sure you’re not overreacting?”

“Take a look at my brand-new paint job, and ask me that again.” I said curtly.

“I’d never do that to you. You know that.” She looked really hurt, and I knew I had gone too far.

“I’m sorry.” I said. “It’s just…Alex doesn’t want anyone to know that we hook up.”

Katrina looked at me sadly. “That’s not fair to you. You should be with someone who isn’t ashamed of who they are.”

I chuckled. “Do you have any attractive lesbian friends I should know about?”

Katrina smiled slightly. “Maybe.”

“Really? Who?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but my phone rang, interrupting her. “Hold that thought, Katrina.” I answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Morgan?”

“Yes. Is this Vicky?”

“Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to go to a homecoming game after party at The Trip. I couldn’t reach Katrina, but Donohue already said she would come.”

“I’m game, and Katrina’s with me. I’ll ask her.”

“Katrina’s with you? Hmm…” Vicky noted teasingly.

“Ha ha.” I said dryly. I put my hand over the receiver. “Katrina? Do you want to go to an after party tonight?”

Katrina nodded with a grin. “Sure.”

“That’s a yes.” I told Vicky.

“Great. I’ll drive. Call me in a few hours, and tell me where to pick you guys up.”

“Deal. See you later.”

“Bye.” I hung up the phone.

“Do you want to get dressed and come over to my apartment? I don’t think you’ve seen it yet, plus it will save me and Vicky a trip.” Katrina asked me.

“Sure.” I put on a pair of golden-brown boot cut corduroys, and matched it with a plain white button up shirt under a corduroy jacket.

“I’ve got a pair of Uggs that will go great with that outfit.” said Katrina.

I wrinkled my nose. “You have a pair of Uggs?”

“I have two pairs of Uggs. A tan pair and a black pair.”

“Those things are seriously ugly.”

Katrina pouted. “They’re not ugly. They’re cute. Like little baby bulldogs.”

I laughed. “Whatever makes you happy, Katrina. I’ll be fine with my old black boots.”

Katrina pointed at my shirt near my neckline. “Your buttons are uneven.” Before I could be a smartass, she undid the first two buttons of my shirt and re-buttoned them. She did it so quickly, I couldn’t react. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t understand Katrina’s nervous expression as she walked outside. “You ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah.” I grabbed my keys and locked up behind us. As we walked out to Katrina's car, I avoided looking at Katrina. She wasn’t coming on to me. She couldn’t be coming on to me, I thought over and over again like a silent prayer until I believed it. I got into her car as quickly as I could, and talked about safe subjects, like the after party. Katrina lived about fifteen minutes away in the two-story Greenbriar complex that mostly housed postgraduate college students. “How did you manage to get an apartment out here?”

“With my security deposit, I could’ve bought a new car.” She said with a grin. I followed her into her pleasant-looking sage green building, where she was immediately greeted by a an attractive woman who was taking out her laundry.

“Hi Katrina. Are you going to a homecoming party?” Asked the woman, flinging her wavy red hair. I thought she was in her thirties, but I swore she couldn’t be any older than thirty-two.

Katrina gave her a small, tense smile. “Yes. I am.”

The woman turned to me, and my gaydar went off the charts. She had a soft oval shaped face spotted with numerous freckles and unique almond shaped green eyes. “Hi.” She said, offering her hand. “I’m Alice.”

I took her hand slowly. “Morgan. Nice to meet you.” She held onto my hand a little bit longer than she had to before releasing it.

“So how do you know Katrina?” She asked with a smile.

“We’re friends. We hang out together.”

“Mm-hmm.” She vocalized, lowering her eyes slightly.

“We’ve gotta go. Some friends are meeting us here. Soon.” said Katrina, gritting her teeth for some reason.

Alice slid her eyes over to Katrina, as if she had forgotten she was there, and then looked back at me. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Morgan.”

Katrina quickly walked down the hallway and stopped at her apartment. “I hate her.” She hissed under her breath as she opened the door to her apartment. I was a little shocked. Alice had seemed like a nice person to me, and I was usually a good judge of character.

“Why?” I asked as I walked into Katrina’s place. She had dark red leather furniture, a small dining set, and I saw a small wine-rack on top of her kitchen bar. I wouldn’t have been able to afford her apartment without selling my soul.

Katrina bit her lip. “It’s not because she’s gay. She’s just…not a good person. Trust me on that.” She shook her head in annoyance. “I’m going to get dressed now.” I sat down on a sofa and only needed to wait ten minutes before Katrina was ready. She came out wearing pointed toe shearling boots under boot-cut khakis, and a long-sleeved, low-cut powder blue sweater. “Ready to call Vicky?” she asked me.

“Yes. Sure. You look great.” I said, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not her boobs, which seemed like they could pop out of her sweater at any moment.

Katrina crossed her arms over her chest. “Is this sweater too revealing?”

I scratched my head, trying to maintain eye contact. “You could say that.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t wear it then.”

I shrugged. “Well…it does look good on you.”

“Hmm. That’s good to hear. I’ve been upgraded from ‘cute’ to ‘good looking’. ” Katrina noted softly with a little smile.

“Katrina…” I groaned.

“Just kidding. I think I’ll wear the sweater anyway.” She called Vicky, and before I knew it, Vicky and Donohue were knocking on Katrina’s door. After hugs all around, we killed time by playing Rummy at Donohue’s dorm. None of us paid any attention to the football game we were supposed to be celebrating in a few hours. We just assumed that our football team would win like they usually did, considering they were ranked number five in the country. We were all surprised to hear (from panicking fans running through the halls outside) that our team had lost.

“Meh.” Said Donohue. “The people who actually give a shit about football are pissed. Do you guys still want to go?”

“Yes. I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing!” complained Vicky, who was continuously tugging down her short skirt.

“If anything, this means that the parties are going to be even crazier…” Said Katrina, she said with a grin.

“I’m down for getting a little crazy.” I offered, giving her a high five.

Donohue chuckled. “You never get crazy.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

Donohue laughed. “Whatever! You are such a good girl compared to everyone here.”

“I don’t know about that, Donohue. She gets around when she wants to…” giggled Katrina from behind her cards.

“So you’ve got jokes now?” I asked her.

“Yep.” She said.

Vicky threw down her hand. “Enough of this! Let’s go party, ladies!” We left Donohue’s dorm, bypassing other undergraduates who were rolling in kegs. Vicky drove us in her brand new BMW E46 to Club Trip, but we were shocked to see a line of potential clubbers going all across the block trying to get in. “No way! No fucking way! It’s not even eleven yet!” Yelled Vicky, banging her hands against her steering wheel.

We all groaned. “By the time we get in line, the club is gonna be full.” noted Donohue.

“Maybe we can go to a house party somewhere.” Suggested Katrina.

I shook my head. “I’m not going where I’m not wanted.”

“It’ll be okay. I know someone who invited me to one tonight. I told him I couldn’t make it, but since there isn’t anywhere else to go, we might as well check it out.” offered Katrina.

“Who’s throwing the party?” Asked Vicky warily.

“Benson. His parents are out of town.”

Vicky smiled. “I haven’t seen him in ages. Cool. This should be a drama free night. Are you two in?” she asked me and Donohue.

I nodded. “I’m down for whatever.”

“I’m game.” said Donohue, folding her arms. “Do you know who’s going, Trina?”

“Benson pretty much invites anyone within one hundred miles of here whenever his parents are gone. He’s a good guy. Nothing gets out of hand.”

“Why’s that?” I asked. Usually a house party was an invitation for at least one piece of broken furniture.

“Benson’s mom is a forensic scientist. Like the ones on CSI. Everyone’s afraid she’ll come home and piece together the evidence piece by piece.”

“Not to mention the fact that a cop lives on the same block.” Added Vicky.

I nodded. “Sounds safer than a club. Sweet.”

Vicky drove over to Benson’s house, a pale gray two story house in a middle class neighborhood. There were cars lined all along the block, and we could hear the song from “Me Against The Music” booming as we walked up to the front door. Katrina knocked on the door, and a kid who looked no older than eighteen opened it. “Hey Benson.” said Katrina. “I managed to make it after all.”

His young face crinkled with a smile, revealing his metal braces highlighted by blue rubber bands. “Hey, Trina. Come in.”

“This is Donohue and Morgan.” she said, indicating us. “And you know Vicky already.”

Benson nodded with a grin. “For sure. It’s nice to meet you-” He was interrupted by another knock on the door. “Enjoy yourself everyone. There’s punch, and someone should be coming with some beer in a minute.” he said before answering the door.

“What a nice guy.” I said, going for the punch, which was being served from giant garbage can. “Is he-” I started to ask Vicky.

“Legal? Yes. I saw his ID myself when I served him at Silhouette. Can you believe he’s twenty-two?”

“Really? Jeez. That’s gotta suck when he wants to go out.” I noted, as I poured myself some punch into a large red plastic cup.

“Yup. I know the feeling. I’m a bartender, and you wouldn’t believe how pissed I was when I was carded by a theater attendant half-way through Cabin Fever last month. It was so embarrassing.” Said Vicky, before taking a sip of her punch.

“Damn girl.” I said in sympathy. “What did you do?”

“I calmly called him an idiot, and he left me alone.” I high-fived her. Katrina was leaning against a wall already talking to a cute preppy guy dressed in a tight polo shirt, khakis, and wearing a trucker hat on top of his unruly brown curls. I just looked at them, and swallowed hard, trying not to feel jealous. “Hey. Are you all right?” asked Vicky, tapping me on the shoulder.

I nodded, and looked somewhere else. “I just got a little spacy.” I took a large sip of my punch. Even though the alcohol was watered down with Hawaiian Punch I tasted the burning heat of rum, and a lot of it. I looked for Donohue, and saw her in the middle of a bunch gyrating dancers moving to “Pump It Up” by Joe Budden. I was a little impressed by the party. Even though it wasn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination, there was a lot of variety there. There were Preps, Skaters, Punks, Geeks, and even a Goth or two. But everyone was talking to everyone and enjoying themselves. I was about to join Donohue on the makeshift dance floor, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Expecting to see Vicky, I was a little confused to see Connie standing there.

“Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?” She asked a little shyly. She looked the same as always, with her long brown hair pulled back from her rather aristocratic long nosed face. I blinked, almost thinking I was dreaming.

“I’m fine.” I managed to eke out. “How’s Ben?” I asked forcefully. Ben had been the reason stopped seeing me. When she told me, it was like someone had ripped my heart out, even though we were only sleeping together. I cried for days in my dorm room, but I had been too proud to say anything to anyone.

Connie licked her lip nervously. “He wants to marry me.”

I shrugged, indifferently staring into my cup. “That’s good.” There was no way I could tell her how much I missed her. I had embarrassed myself with her enough as it was.

Connie shook her head, making some of her light curly hair escape from her messy ponytail. I looked at her for one intense moment, wishing I could move her hair away from her face, but I resisted the temptation and looked down at my drink again. “I wish he didn’t love me so much.”

I downed all my of punch in an instant, angry that she wasn’t even satisfied with the guy she had left me for, and worse that she thought I was a shoulder she could cry on about it. “So break his fucking heart. You’re good at that.” I turned away and joined Vicky and Donohue in the chaotic group of people who were dancing. It was actually more like a slow grind competition, but everyone had too much alcohol in their system to care. I found myself booty-bumping with an ass that felt vaguely familiar, and found that it was Bella, the basketball player I had been with several nights before. She was pretty, even though she was a little tall, with a peanut butter complexion and narrow eyes she had gotten from her Mexican mother.

“Hey!” She said over the heavy bass of the music as she danced closer to me. “I didn’t know you danced like this! I like it!”

“Thanks!” I yelled back. “Sorry about the other night!”

“It’s okay. Suze just wanted to join in. She was just too drunk to ask properly.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. We went to the same high school. She just couldn’t talk to me back then. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.” I was slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. I got the impression that Bella had slept with the sorority girl, and sure enough, there was Suze looking at Bella like she a damn peanut butter cookie. It was jealousy that made me break away from Bella and go to the bathroom, wondering why I was always a goddamn stepping stone to someone else. I cried tears of frustration and pain while I sat on the lip of the bathtub, sobbing nonsensically. I stayed in the bathroom to get a handle on my emotions, but I was too embarrassed to leave until someone knocked on the door.

“Morgan? Are you in here?” I heard Katrina call out.

“Yeah.” I called out, trying to make myself stop crying. “I’ll be right out.” I wiped my eyes and tried to brush past her, but she grabbed my arm.

“Hey. You’ve been in there for almost an hour. What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

“You’ve been crying. What happened?”

I looked away from her beautiful eyes, wide with concern. “I just ran into some girls.” I rubbed my head in frustration. “I don’t know. Being me, just really sucks right now. I hate being everyone’s fuck buddy.”

Katrina hugged me. “You’re not a toy. You’re a great person.”

I just let my emotions go, and started sobbing into her chest. “No, I’m not. If I was so great, someone would love me.”

“Lots of people love you, Morgan.”

“Not like that.” I said, pulling away from her, and wiping my eyes. “You don’t get it. Nobody gets it.”

Katrina looked at me sadly, but I thought it was for another reason than just sympathy. “It’s not always going to be like this for you.” She gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. That made me freeze up. I looked at her, and she just looked back. I had the weirdest feeling she wanted to do more than just kiss me on the cheek, but before she could do anything else, the front door slammed open.

“Wooooooo!” yelled an already inebriated Michael. “I’m back motherfuckers!”

“Get the fuck out!” yelled Benson.

“Shit.” said Katrina. “Benson kicked him out once already. Someone’s gotta do something.” But of course, everyone just looked at the potentially violent scene with a mixture of amusement or shock, like Michael was a cartoon character come to life.

“What the fuck are you going to do about it? You think you can take me, you little shit?” Michael picked Benson up, put him over his shoulder and body slammed him through a coffee table like a wrestler. Benson was out cold, his head lolling on top of the broken fragments of the coffee table. A few people dashed for the door, while others pressed closer to see what would happen next.

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled striding over to help Benson. Michael got between me and my host.

“Hey, dyke. Did you like your new paint job?” He mimed spraying a paint can. I balled my hands up and snarled at him. “Oh, you think you can hit me, you little bitch?” He leaned down and poked his cheek. “Give me a little love tap, right here.” I swung my fist without any more prodding, and connected with his jaw. He staggered to the side, where Katrina was waiting with a punch of her own. The second shot put him on his ass, and he fell over, hitting his head on the hardwood floor with a loud smack.

I moved towards him to get in a few more shots, but I felt insistent hands on my shoulders and arms, holding me back. “Stop. He’s out cold.” It was Donohue. I looked around and saw Vicky, having a similar interaction with Katrina. “We need to get the fuck out of here before the police are called.” I nodded, and all four of us made a beeline for the front door.

“Is Benson alright?” I asked as I got into Vicky’s car, Katrina got into the backseat next to me, and Vicky and Donohue took the front seats.

“Yes. I saw him groaning, and trying to get up. Let’s leave it up to him if he wants to file charges against Michael.” Suggested Vicky. “Don, can you drive? I drank about three cups of that damn punch.”

“Yeah. I pre-gamed.” Vicky handed Donohue the keys, and Donohue got behind the wheel. “Are you guys all right?” Asked Donohue, looking at our reflections in the rearview mirror.

“My fist hurts a little.” Groaned Katrina, flexing her hand.

“Let me see.” I said, taking her hand. I moved her fingers slightly, and she winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think anything’s broken. How’s your hand?”

I shook it out a little. “It feels stiff. And it tingles. Only a little, though.” My hand didn’t feel that bad, considering I had just punched the shit out of a blockhead like Michael. “My dorm is the closest. Let’s go there first so you can get a better look at your hand, Katrina. Do you mind, Vicky?”

“I don’t mind. Don? Do you mind?”

“Let’s just get the hell out of here before someone gets your plate number.” Donohue pulled away from the curb and shot off down the road, flying through the neighborhood and back onto campus. She was faster than most street racers I knew.

“Could you slow it down a little?” asked Vicky, looking uncomfortable.

“Okay.” Donohue hit the brakes as she was turning a corner, sending Katrina flying into me.

“Are you alright?” I asked her, rubbing her shoulders a little.

Katrina squeezed her eyes closed. “Now in addition to a swollen hand, I’ve got a bruised shoulder. So not funny, Don.”

“My bad.” said Donohue, as she screeched to a halt outside of my dorm.

“Keys. Now.” Ordered Vicky. Donohue took the keys out of the ignition and handed them to Vicky. “Never again in this lifetime are you going anywhere near my ride.”

Donohue smiled that crazy grin of hers. “Deal.”

Vicky rolled her eyes. “Please let us in before I strangle her.” She whispered to me. I nodded, and hurriedly let us all in to my dorm, speed-walking to my room. It was, as usual, empty. My roommate had left an empty case of beer on the kitchen table for me to clean up.

Vicky and Donohue grabbed the loveseat, while Katrina sank into my recliner. With the living room lights on, I could tell that Katrina’s knuckles were badly bruised. “Damn it.” She cursed, flexing her hand carefully.

I got her some ice from my freezer, wrapped it in a dish towel and pressed it onto her hand. “That was some smack. Why’d you do it?”

“I was just so angry when he talked about your car. And the way he hurt Benson…I couldn’t let him get away with it." She looked away from her hand to look at me. “And I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

There was something about the way she was looking at me that made me confused. I looked away from her. “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“You could’ve been hurt too.” She shot back, lifting her chin proudly.

I opened my mouth to say that she had a lot more to lose in a fistfight than I did, such as her great looks, but I caught myself, and just shrugged. “I just kept thinking about my car. Not to mention the fact that Michael totally fucked Benson over.”

Katrina managed a small, soft smile. “I hope Michael wakes up with a concussion.”

I grinned at that. “A brain hemorrhage would be even better.”

“I’m going to see if your invisible roommate left any beer.” Announced Donohue as she got up and went to my fridge. “Yup.” She announced, holding up a can of Bud. “Anyone want one?”

“I’ll take one.” said Vicky.

Donohue grinned manically. “You can’t have one. You have to drive home since I’m not allowed near your car.”

Vicky narrowed her eyes, evilly. “Give me the damn beer, Don.”

“Can’t do that. You don’t have a DD.” Donohue gloated as she took a swig of beer.

“Stop torturing her, Donohue. Bud is her favorite beer.” Katrina interjected. “I’ll take everyone home. Vicky, you live in the apartment next to mine, so I’ll just walk home.”

“Sounds like a plan. Now give me a beer Donohue.” said Vicky. Donohue tossed Vicky a beer, and she caught it easily. After Donohue and Vicky both had three beers, Katrina decided to cut them off.

“Enough you guys.” said Katrina with a yawn. “I’m gonna end up sleeping ‘til twelve at this rate.”

“Okay. ‘Nite Morgan.” said Vicky. “You’ve got great guns.” She flexed her muscles, and I laughed at her.

Donohue gave me a drunken hug. “You totally rock. That was better than seeing Michael arrested. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Donohue and Vicky drunkenly wobbled out of my dorm room, but Katrina lingered. “I want to say thanks for having my back.” I told her, as I walked her to my door.

“You’re my friend. You don’t have to thank you.”

“Still. I don’t even think Donohue would have taken a shot at Michael. Not to mention the fact that I was having a mini-breakdown in the bathroom.” I added quietly.

Katrina smiled slightly. “I thought you weren’t ready to settle down with anyone.”

I shrugged, remembering what I had told her when we had first met. “I dunno. I just want to be happy with someone. Sneaking around doesn’t make me happy.”

Katrina hugged me, then. I just sort of melted into her. It was weird, but her little signs of affection were growing on me. I didn’t even take into consideration that she was wearing a too-tight sweater. It just felt good to be hugged. “It takes a lot of courage to be out like you are. Lots of women aren’t ready for it.” She told me, putting her hands on my shoulders, and looking me straight in the eye. “But one day, a girl is going to fall for you so hard, she won’t be able to hide it anymore.” She looked down a little, and took a deep breath. “I better go before Donohue starts teasing Vicky again.” She hugged me again. “Have a goodnight.”

“You too.” I said when she released me. Katrina started walking away. “And thanks again.”

Katrina turned back to look at me, and gave me a genuine 100 watt smile before moving down the corridor and out of the dorm.