The Frat Boy (The Minefield Chronicles)

August 2011

Back in the beginning of September, one of my friends dragged me out to this party to kick off the beginning of the school year. Now, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to party. That was definitely the first thing on my mind because for once; school, dancing and other adult responsibilities weren’t overloading my mind. I just was over frat parties. A bunch of cute, but albeit horribly drunk guys trying to grind on me in a over-crowded, dark house that normally smells like spilled beer from beer pong and weed. Eh, no thanks.

Unfortunately, I had made my decision a little too late and missed out on getting a DD-insured ride to other local parties. So I was stuck with a dilemma; either go to this Hawaiian, beach themed party or stay home in my pajamas and watch late night TV and deal with my friends drunkenness later (and have to be completely sober). So I made a third option- ignore all calls and sleep.

However, my friend kept badgering me into going, saying something about cute guys being there. Sigh. Fine. I called my friend and told her that I would go, but I refused to dress up in their theme. I was half-hoping that they wouldn’t let me in. If they didn’t let me in because I didn’t dress up; that would be my validation to go back home and go to sleep. Fool proof.

So I went in my closet and pulled out an outfit that went against everything Hawaiian. I chose a more Jumanji, safari theme. Donned in a cheetah print flowy top, denim shorts and simple brown and gold sandals, I swept some makeup on and grabbed my essentials. I had only planned to stay for about an hour or two, so I wasn’t going all out in terms of my outfit.

I walked over to the party with some friends of mine and met the girls that I was supposed to see. As soon as we got to the door, I was immediately given about 3 leis. So much for not letting me into the party. Damn it. About 20 minutes later, we were ready to drink more. They all had beers in their hands, but I was in the mood for something a little… stronger. So I broke off and went over to the bar area in search of something more than a Corona.

I was just making friends with some other girls in line when two guys came up to me and started making conversation. One was Hispanic and the other was mixed with African American and something else that I couldn’t readily identify. But both were well dressed, well, as well- dressed as you could be at a frat party; it was the typical California “dress-up” outfit- a button up shirt, jeans and sneakers. I didn’t recognize them but they seemed to know all the guys at the party; which made me think that they were older frat guys. They introduced themselves as J and I (Hispanic guy and mixed race guy respectively). I could immediately tell that I was J’s wing man and J was trying to feel me out. I couldn’t lie, I was intrigued. It had been a little while that I had been approached by someone who was smart, on top of his stuff and not to mention pretty cute. I just wanted normal testosterone in my life. J’s friend wasn’t bad looking either, but J had this Spanish accent; which is so sexy to me. He had won.

I explained to them that I was at the party with friends and I didn’t want to ditch them, but I did make sure to tell J to come and dance with me later on. He agreed, and smiled. It wasn’t a cocky smile, or a shy smile- but directly in the middle. It was a genuine one. I got my drink and went back to my friends. I didn’t tell them about him- not because I was embarrassed, but because I had no idea what would happen. A small part of me didn’t want to jinx anything; so staying quiet would save me from being disappointed in front of my friends.

Though out the night, I was just having fun with my girls, so I didn’t give J another thought. I had written him off as just another random. All of a sudden, someone touched my waist. I turned around; drink in hand, attitude turned on high; ready to ream the guy who thought he was being slick. I turned face to face with none other than J, who had a questioning look on his face. Without a word, I turned back around and we started dancing. It wasn’t raunchy and my hands weren’t touching the ground. He wasn’t dry-humping me and I wasn’t trying to make his baby on the dance floor. His hands didn’t roam to inappropriate places and I didn’t have to grab his hands to keep them in a kid-friendly zone.

I leaned my upper body against his chest and he pulled me closer. There was absolutely no space between our bodies. I remember tilting my head to the side and moving my hair to one side and him pressing his lips to the curve in my neck for a second. I don’t know if it was the drinks, or that I missed the touch of a guy, or the fact that it was so fast that it could have been unintentional; but I let him do it. To me it wasn’t meant to be sexual, we were enjoying each other’s company for a night (or a couple songs).

We danced for a little while, and he even danced with me to Suavemente, which is one of my favorite salsa jams ever. He was one of the few guys that didn’t chicken out of dancing with me after I told them I was a dancer. He took control, and I liked it.

After we danced, he asked me for my number. And ignoring the pessimistic part of my brain, I gave it to him. As I walked away, I locked it in my head that I wouldn’t hear from him again.

I didn’t tell my friends about that part too.

Now as all college parties go, by about 2am, people get stupid and either throw up, fight or the cops get wind of the event and shut it down. I texted him to tell him bye and to have a good night and we met outside of the house. Thankfully, in the light of the street lamps, he was still cute (thank God). I moved in for a hug goodbye. I’m not sure what was lost in translation, but before I could get out of the hug, he kissed me. And I mean, kissed me. Not an “Oh, it was nice meeting you” peck; but a full on lip lock. Even I was shocked, but even more shockingly- I kissed him back. There were the two of us, under the street lights, in front of the frat house, amongst the drunk guys and the girls that wanted to bang them, just… kissing.

How my friends didn’t see, I’d never know.

I told him good night and began the walk home. About 5 minutes later, I got a text from him to keep in touch. I smiled to myself and texted him the same.

I don’t know if it was the alcohol, or the giddiness from the kiss, or a combination of the two, but I went to sleep with a smile on my face. The next day, I asked him what I should save him in my phone under. He responded, “As J, your future adventure.”

And there began the adventure of me and J.

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