3 Sloane
August 2016
“Uber’s here!” I yelled over the music.
Our apartment was more packed than usual. Even though we dropped our sorority halfway into sophomore year, we stayed close with many girls in our pledge class. Taylor and Hailey also lived in Ascent but toward the front of the complex. I could always count on the five of us to pregame together before any event—even if that pregame was for another pregame.
“Alright, ladies, let’s pack it up.” Lauren disconnected her phone from the speaker and placed a few empty cups in the sink. “Sloane, you got an XL, right?”
“Yep, we can fit five and not have to lap up!” I assured her.
I led the girls down the stairs and to the parking lot, where the minivan awaited us.
“No one has any roadies with them, right? My Uber rating can’t survive another one-star review after I threw up on the way home from the White Trash Bash freshman year.” I shuddered at the sheer thought of that memory.
“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Taylor pretended to gag. Everyone else shook their heads and then piled into the car one by one. I took the front seat, and the driver offered me an aux cord.
“Any requests?” I asked, twirling it around in my fingers.
“That new Chainsmokers song!” Jordan pleaded. “I’m obsessed!”
“‘Closer’! Yes!” Lauren reiterated.
“‘From your roommate back in Boulder, we ain’t ever getting older!’” we screamed at the top of our lungs. These were the moments I didn’t want to forget.
It was about a fifteen-minute drive from Ascent to the bar, and we played “Closer” on repeat the entire way. I’m sure our driver hated us, but we didn’t care. The song was catchy, and we were trying to live up to our expectations of the first night of senior year. He couldn’t fault us for that.
We strategically arrived at Jerry’s twenty minutes early so we wouldn’t have to wait in line. I was pleased with our decision. The bouncers barely looked at our IDs, even though this was one of the first times we’d been here and been of age. It was more crowded than I’d expected.
Just before the entrance, there was an outdoor patio that I usually loved to hang out on, but not on a humid August night. Jerry’s was just like any other hole-in-the-wall college bar. At night, they cleared out the high-top tables and barstools so there was plenty of room for dancing. Flat-screen TVs and neon signs with beer logos were plastered on the walls, and they didn’t serve drinks over $10. Every time I stepped inside, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. I couldn’t believe we only had a year left in this town. Of all the places I’ve lived, Wilmington had grown to be my favorite.
“Let’s get in line!” Lauren’s voice echoed over the music. She intertwined her hand with mine while I took Jordan’s and we beelined it to the bar.
“Can we get two vodka sodas and one Mich Ultra?” Lauren slid the bartender her debit card and turned to us. “I still don’t get how you drink these things.”
“It’s dollar beer night!” I argued. “And they go down easy.”
“Since Sloane’s drink is basically free, I’ve got the next round,” Jordan said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hailey and Taylor talking to a few of our guy friends. After four years of mixers, parties, formals, and spring breaks, the Sigma Chi boys had basically become our brothers too. Except for the ones we’d slept with anyway.
“Let’s mingle!” Lauren led us over to where the rest of the girls were.
“There they are!” Hailey greeted us.
“How are we?” One of the guys came up and put his arms around Lauren and me.
“Oh my gosh!” Lauren squealed. “It’s been months! How was your study abroad?”
As conversations of summer trips, senior schedules, and postgrad plans ensued around me, I excused myself to the bathroom and then found my way back to the bar for another drink. Jerry’s was filling up fast but there was no sign of Ethan. Maybe Lauren was wrong. Maybe not all seniors hit the beach bars to celebrate FDOC. Before I could give it much more thought, someone squeezed my shoulder.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Six words every twenty-one-year-old wants to hear.
I spun around and was face-to-face with the only guy I wanted to see tonight.
“How am I supposed to say no to that?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Ethan’s response was laced with confident charm. “I’m pretty hard to say no to.” He smirked. His gaze swept over the crowded space as he added, “Damn, it’s packed in here.”
“Yeah, the line for the bar hasn’t budged.” I sighed, the wait was starting to dim my spirits.
“Follow me.” Without hesitation he grabbed my hand and led me to the very end of the bar. In seconds one of the bartenders looked in his direction and made her way toward us.
“Ethan, what can I get you, hun?” She asked, batting her eyelashes.
Hun?Of course, he knew the bartender. I wonder if he’s slept with her. I took in every detail from her fake blond hair to the way her breasts were practically spilling out of her crop top. Is this the kind of girl he’s attracted to? If so, I’m wasting my time. For a minute I debated skipping the drink and finding my friends…until he used that name again.
“So, Hart,” Ethan started. “Do you like beer, or are you just drinking it because it’s a dollar? Do you want a vodka cran? Vodka soda?”
“Honestly, I don’t mind beer. Liquor and I don’t have the best relationship. I want to at least remember the first night of senior year you know?”
“Two Mich Ultras it is.”
The hum of conversation swirled around us, a symphony of flirty banter and catching up with old friends. A roar of excitement erupted from a group in the corner, and as I looked over to see what they were shouting about, I noticed two guys on their knees chugging Smirnoff Ices. I didn’t even know Jerry’s sold them. I took note of that so I could ice Lauren later in the night, it was a tradition of ours—usually on birthdays and special occasions.
“Cheers,” Ethan said as he handed me a beer.
“Thanks for this.” I smiled as I lifted the bottle to my lips and took a small sip.
“Where are your friends?” he asked.
“Last I saw they were near the windows, but I’m not sure now. I can’t see through all of these people.”
“Well, let’s go find them.” He held his hand out again and I took it without question as he led me back through the crowd. Even though I had known Ethan for less than twenty-four hours, something about him made me feel safe. It was a calming sensation I hadn’t felt around a guy before.
“There they are!” I tugged on Ethan’s shirt and pointed to Lauren. “The blond in the blue top is my roommate. Thanks for helping me.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I should at least meet my other neighbors, right?”
My stomach fluttered at his reminder. Was this a good idea? Having a crush on my neighbor? It’s not like he was someone I could dodge like my usual one-night stands. There was no escaping Ethan Brady.
“There you are!” Lauren exclaimed. “We thought you’d left.”
“Leave? Why would I leave?” I responded, confused.
“Come on, Sloane.” Jordan jumped in with a teasing jab. “You’re famous for the Irish exit.”
“Who’s this?” Lauren, the social butterfly, introduced herself to Ethan. “I’m Lauren.”
“Ethan. My roommates and I live above you guys.” His introduction was simple.
“Oh, so you’re bus boy! I’m Jordan.”
Ethan’s head swiveled in my direction for an explanation. “Bus boy?” he questioned with a playful frown. “What a terrible nickname.”
“Blame Lauren; she came up with it.” I could feel my face growing red, so I took a gulp of my beer, seeking some extra liquid courage.
The conversation shifted as Lauren asked, “Where are your roommates?”
“Are they hot?” Jordan’s curiosity was more direct.
“Guys!” If my face wasn’t red before, it definitely was now. Thank god for the dim lighting.
Ethan stood tall above the crowd, his height giving him an easy vantage point. “They’re around here somewhere,” he said, his eyes scanning the room. He offered a casual “Be right back,” before weaving through the crowd.
I watched as he walked away, hoping he meant what he said and that the girls hadn’t scared him off. It was refreshing to have a crush again. Since Carter, I’d tried to keep my dating life casual and not get attached to any hookups. It was easier that way, since most college guys weren’t looking for anything serious. I’d made that mistake before, and I swore to never let myself again. But something about Ethan made me feel different, like I’d be willing to put my heart on the line just to see if or what we could be.
Within minutes Ethan returned with two similarly attractive guys.
“Graham and Jake, this is Sloane, Lauren, and Jordan, our upstairs neighbors.” Ethan began the introductions. Graham—with his shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, and golden tan that probably lasted year-round—looked like he was plucked out of a Billabong campaign. I could just tell he grew up at the beach and had no intention of ever leaving. Jake, however, was the opposite—dark complexion, buzz cut, and a small scattering of facial hair.
Over the course of the night, our separate groups of friends eventually merged into one. I watched as Lauren and Graham hit it off, effectively cutting anyone else out of their conversations. It was like they were the only two in the bar. Jordan didn’t seem interested in Jake, so the four of us danced and talked until the lights cut on.
Lauren begged us to not let the night end, and the guys agreed. So we decided on drinking games at our place. Though I’m not usually one for postgames, it wasn’t hard to convince me to spend more time with Ethan.
“What does everyone want to drink?” Lauren asked, her eyes darting between us, already playing hostess as we stumbled into our unlit apartment.
“I’ll run upstairs and get our case of Miller. I don’t want us to drink all of your alcohol,” Graham offered, but before Lauren could say no, he was out the door.
“Should we play Circle of Death or Ride the Bus?” I asked.
“Ride the Bus,” Jake and Ethan said in unison.
“Ride the Bus it is.”
Graham got back with the beer in record time, and we all managed to squeeze onto our sectional couch while Jordan reminded us how to play. Nothing said college like a room full of drunk twenty-one-year-olds arguing about which set of rules to use. Toward the end of the last round, I excused myself to use the bathroom. Lauren was riding the bus, which she always had the worst luck with, so I knew I had plenty of time until a new game would start.
I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me. It wasn’t until I sat on the toilet that I realized how tipsy I was. My face was warm, my body was tingly, and my eyes were starting to get heavy. Even though I was enjoying flirting with Ethan, I wasn’t sure how much longer I would make it. When I opened my bathroom door, I found Ethan standing in my bedroom. He was staring at the picture frames I had lined up on my dresser, picking them up and examining them one by one.
“Hey,” I announced myself.
“These your parents?” he asked without looking up from the photo.
“That would be them.” I walked over to where he was standing so I could get a better look.
In the sunflower picture frame was our last photo ever taken as a family of three. I was standing between my mom and dad, a smile plastered on my face even though I was wearing red (my least favorite color) and a graduation cap that kept sliding off my head. I remember exactly how I felt that day: excited to finally be in control of my future. A few weeks after that picture was taken, my parents told me they were getting a divorce. My dad had lost his job, had fallen into a depression, and hadn’t put any effort into finding another place to work. After almost two years of trying to help him, my mom said she had had enough. I didn’t blame her, but I did feel sorry for my dad.
Ethan set the frame back down on my dresser and turned to face me. It felt like his big brown eyes could see right through me. My heart rate was increasing by the second, and with a newfound drunk confidence, I closed the bedroom door. Taking the hint, he made his way closer to me and placed one hand on my lower back and the other on my face. Gently, his thumb stroked my cheek, and I could feel the rest of his hand grasp the back of my neck. Goose bumps.
When our lips finally touched, it was like they had met before.
***
First kisses can be two things: terrible or incredible. There is no in-between. My actual first kiss was of the terrible variety. I was fifteen and it was New Year’s Eve. I remember tasting toothpaste on his tongue and thinking he’d brushed his teeth to be courteous. It turns out he was wasted and had been throwing up in the bathroom right before the ball dropped.
Then, there was my first good kiss. It was like a scene out of any coming-of-age movie or book made in the past ten years. One Saturday night during the spring of senior year, I stayed out past curfew. “Crazy Rap” by Afroman was playing on the Bluetooth speaker while we passed around whiskey and a bottle of Dr Pepper as a chaser. I knew it was wrong to let Carter drive me home after he drank, but I was seventeen and didn’t always make the best decisions. He parked his car at the top of my driveway; then he kissed me. I can still remember the way my entire body lit up like I had been going through life on autopilot until that very moment.
That’s not what this first kiss with Ethan felt like. Kissing him felt familiar, like our lips were puzzle pieces that fit together just right. He didn’t make me nervous in the way Carter used to. He made me feel comfortable. He made me feel at home.