Chapter Three - 3. The Party
CHAPTER THREE
The Party
The first time I heard about Jacko was in a lecture theatre for my Intro to Macroeconomics class.
A group of girls wearing gold hoop earrings and yoga pants in the row in front of me were talking about ‘Jacko being legendary’ and ‘an excuse to dress like a slut, obvi’.
I didn’t think much of it, even when I saw my classmates’ social media stories mentioning it, with photos of trash bags on the side of the road, with captions like, it’d be perfect for Jacko.
I didn’t learn what Jacko was until Tuesday evening. Taylor pushed my bedroom door open with a bang and I almost jumped off my bed. “What the hell?” I demanded. “I could’ve been naked.”
“Nothing I haven’t seen already,” he said. “I’m going to the gym. Wanna join?”
Funnily enough, Taylor and I had never gone to the gym together despite living in the same dorm for months.
Actually, we didn’t do anything together.
Like ever. The sole exception was when I forced him to go to the city with me, and the only reason I’d done that was to torture him in the sex toy store.
I opened my mouth to say no automatically. Spending time together outside of our dorm was weird. But…I wasn’t doing anything better, just watching mind-rotting videos on my phone.
“Let me get changed.” I got up and grabbed my workout clothes from the closet. Taylor was still there, leaning against the door frame, watching with a little smile. I glared. He rolled his eyes and left.
Yeah, he’d seen me naked a million times already. But it was one thing to see someone naked just before having sex, and another thing to see them naked…just like that.
We walked to the gym without talking. Once we entered into the air-conditioned building, we went our seperate ways. It was always a relief to lose myself in exercise. Lifting heavy things made my brain go quiet. Because sometimes, when I daydreamed, I thought about Taylor, and —
After finishing my weight training, I went to the line of treadmills that looked out over the football oval, and decided I’d jog until Taylor was finished. A few minutes later, he appeared on the treadmill next to mine, and pressed the buttons on the machine so he was matching my speed.
I upped the incline.
He upped the incline too. Then he increased the speed.
So I increased the speed —
“Archie!” A familiar voice yelled out, and I clutched the handles of the treadmill as I turned around to see Matty grinning. I quickly slowed down the machine.
“Oh, shit. I’m interrupting.”
“No, it’s cool.” I ended the run. My legs hurt anyway, because sprinting up a steep incline was not something I was used too. Behind me, Taylor’s pounding footsteps slowed down to stop.
“Hey Taylor.”
“Hey,” Taylor said. “How’re you going?”
“Just arrived. Guessing you guys are wrapping up? Oh, you two are going to Jacko, right?”
“Jacko?” I said.
“Dude,” Matty said, his eyes widening. “It’s only basically compulsory for all first years.”
“It’s just a party,” Taylor said to me.
“It’s not just a party,” Matty replied, looking at me. “It’s hosted at Jackomos Dorm, and it’s, like, some old Halverton tradition. You can’t wear clothes.”
“What?” I immediately imagined nude people strolling around, holding cans of beer. No way in hell that was a real thing.
“You have to wear anything but clothes,” Taylor explained. “Like a bedsheet.”
“Or a trash bag. Or duck tape, that’s a popular one,” Matty said.
“Right,” I said. So basically nude.
“I’m seeing you guys there,” Matty said, walking backwards, pointing two fingers at his eyes, then at us. “No excuses, ‘kay?”
Taylor made a hand gesture that wasn’t quite a yes.
“Are you gonna go?” I asked as we walked back to our dorm. The autumn breeze chilled the sweat drying on the nape of my neck.
“It kind of sounds like a pain.” A minute later, he said, “are you?”
“I don’t know what I’ll wear.”
“I have a bedsheet you can use.”
I vaguely remembered seeing Taylor wrapped in white for a toga party. He’d looked good in it, the sheet tied around one shoulder, one pec exposed…
“Thanks,” I said. “What will you wear?”
He shrugged.
“I won’t go if you don’t. I just mean,” I said, suddenly self-conscious, “I don’t want to humiliate myself if you won’t.”
“Everyone will be humiliating themselves.”
We didn’t say anything else for the rest of the way back. I felt silly. Taylor and I didn’t go to parties together. We weren’t friends. I felt heavy at the thought. It was probably just exhaustion after a tiring workout.
The cursor blinked over and over again.
I pushed myself up from where I’d been sitting at the coffee table. Taylor didn’t look up from where he was lying on the couch, head against the arm rest. He had wired headphones in, ostensibly watching a lecture recording on his laptop while scrolling on his phone.
I walked over to the kitchenette, made myself a glass of water, then returned to the coffee table. I stretched my fingers and mouthed words. Firstly…first of all…I have experience… student council treasurer…
I picked up my phone. Online, everyone was excited about the upcoming Jacko party, positing pictures of the costumes they were constructing. I didn’t have space in my brain to think about the party, not when I had a speech to write. I set my phone down with a clatter.
Taylor yanked out his earphones. “What is wrong with you?” he asked.
I blinked at him. “Huh?”
“You keep on fidgeting. It’s distracting.”
“Distracting?” I repeated. “You’ve been watching soccer highlights on your phone for the past fifteen minutes. I’m not distracting you from anything.”
“I’m listening.” He gestured at the professor on his screen.
“Okay. Sure.” I got up and walked over to the window. I felt jittery, like I’d downed six coffees.
“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked.
“There’s a committee position I want. I have to present a speech and submit a written application,” I said to the glass.
“Okay. So do it.”
I turned around to face him. “There were fifty applicants last year.”
He wrinkled his nose. “For some random club position?”
“It’s for the Commerce Students Society.
Once you get on one committee, you can get on the executive committee.
Then, once you’re on the executive committee, there’s all sorts of opportunities for networking and internships and it makes your resume look great…
” I made an impatient noise. “It’s just really important. ”
Taylor looked at me blankly.
“I feel pretty anxious about it, actually,” I admitted.
“Why?” Taylor said. “Anyone with two braincells would choose you. Just write something random and be done with it.”
I threw my hands up in the air. Had I really expected Taylor to understand? “I can’t write something random,” I snapped.
“Okay, obviously not something random,” Taylor replied, like I was the one who was talking nonsense. “Just mention you were student council treasurer in high school.”
“Oh, gosh, why didn’t I think of that?” I asked.
Taylor frowned at me. “No need to be an asshole. I don’t understand why you’re so stressed about this, anyway.”
“Because I want it,” I said. “And I know this is hard for someone like you to understand, but not everything I want just falls into my lap.”
Taylor closed his laptop and sat up properly. “Is that what you think? That I get everything I want?”
I laughed, and it sounded a little crazed to my own ears. “Yes, of course.”
“Like what.” His voice was flat.
I counted the items off on my fingers. “You have a full scholarship to Halverton. You play soccer to represent the university. You were captain in high school. You were valedictorian. You were student council president. You always get everything I want, and you know what? It’s a good thing you don’t study Commerce, otherwise you’d steal this too. ”
Taylor’s eyes seemed to burn past my retinas. “There are things I want that I don’t get.”
“Like what?” I threw the question back in his face.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Sometimes I think you look at me and don’t see a person at all.”
I gathered up my stuff. “I don’t have time for this,” I said. “The application’s due tonight. I’ll be in my room.”
I had just submitted the written application eight minutes before the deadline when there was a knock on my bedroom door. Taylor came in, holding a mug.
“I made you a drink,” he said, setting it on the desk. “It’s hot chocolate.”
I stared at him. “Thank you,” I said. I took a sip and burned my tongue. It was probably karma. “Sorry about before.”
Taylor sat on the edge of the bed and shrugged.
“It’s just…you make everything seem so easy,” I explained. “I spent a long time chasing after you.”
He smoothed out the bedspread with a hand. “I don’t like the idea of you resenting me.”
“I don’t,” I said honestly. “Maybe I used to. But not any more.” Maybe it was because we were at a big university, not a small high school class.
Maybe it was because we were in different courses.
Or maybe I’d simply matured. But I no longer saw Taylor as my direct competitor.
“I am sorry I said all that stuff earlier. I didn’t actually mean it. I was stressed.”
Taylor shrugged again. “I shouldn’t have been so dismissive about it. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I mean, if you were a Commerce student, I’d force you to vote for me.”
“There’s a student vote?”
I nodded and explained that the speeches were presented next week, and anyone who was a CSS member in attendance could vote. Talking through everything helped calm me down, focus my mind. I had to be persuasive, to win votes. Maybe I’d suggest that the ball have an open bar.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do,” Taylor began, standing up. “Let me know.” He paused by the door. “I’ll go to Jacko with you, if you want.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah, why not? It’s a Halverton tradition after all.”
“This is so fucking stupid,” Taylor said, glaring at our reflections in the bathroom mirror.