Twice Deep Inside My Own Head

7:00 pm

Shower. The grey towel hangs on the back of my dorm’s door. Flip flops are tucked in a corner along with a hodge-podge of heels and sneakers. My hands tousle the beehive of hair that sits in a heap on my head. I don’t need to shampoo and conditioner, just conditioner. Hopefully it doesn’t’ come out with a greasy sheen. There’s a delicate balance to perfection.

Cade’ll be out tonight. I need to look cute. Can’t afford to get kicked out of the house for not dressing the part and meshing with the rest of the girls. The look needs to be cute, but not like I’m trying. That way I’m approachable but not needy. If I play my cards right, Cade’ll take me to his room before I fall asleep at the end of the night. I hate sleeping next to men. But it shows that I’m wanted. I can go without rest for a night.

If I wanted him, I needed to put out, remind him that I exist, and hit him up at the end of the night.

The towel is pinned under my armpit. My shoulder nudges the door open to the hallway. A dog catches my eye. Oh my god! I scream internally. Its black, fluffy tail perks up and wags at my smile. So much happiness in that good boy. The shower caddy sits on the faded carpet as little wet kisses land on my nose and chin. A girl rushes down the corridor. A leash is gripped in her fist.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry about him.”

Why is this girl apologizing for her dog? This is the most affection I’ve received in ages! The black fluff is pulled back by the collar and disappears into a room. Shower. Let’s go.

I assess the shower caddy. Did I grab the essentials? Face wash – good. The water spurtles out, half a crank in between scalding hot and iceberg. The soap bar is missing. It’s fine. A rinse will do.

7:30 pm

Bare feet stand on a cheap fuzzy rug. I scrunch my hair into a towel. Soft sweats are my go-to for freshly shaved legs. A fuzzy Sherpa is a yes as well.

I hop onto the bed and flick up on my phone screen. Who to contact for the night’s adventures… Text Katie, when are you heading out? Text Jane, hey, can I walk over with you guys? Will supply shots. Respond to Faith’s story, Cuuuute! Let me know when you head out so I can tag along!

They definitely won’t respond. People tend to forget that I exist. Not intentionally. No, I’m just not someone people remember to include. If they do, it’ll be an apology in the morning for ignoring or “not seeing” the messages. I’ll walk over to the boys’ house at 10 – 10:30 – probably 11 though. The party starts at 9.

Shit. My hair is going to be wet when I get there. Legit takes hours upon hours for my hair to go from dripping to damp. I should have bugged Emma for the diffuser she borrowed from me last month. It’s fine. She needs it. It’s not fine, but I will continue to tell myself that until I convince myself otherwise.

Fuck it. I’m going for a fun time. No one will give a damn.

Two flicks of my thumb and the half-burned candle is lit. The mood is set for choosing the ideal drink for the evening. Bottles sit nearly empty on top of the mini fridge. If I finish off my gin and tequila, nothing could hurt my feelings. The tequila is poured into the gin bottle. I give it a little swirl. I crack a can of diet ginger beer open. The hiss of carbonation mixes in with the crackle of the candle on my desk. A splash of simple syrup tops off the 50/50 liquor concoction.

I mentally measure the amount of alcohol in the bottle. That’ll do. I’ll give the mix an hour to kick in. Then I’ll be open to socialization. Hopefully. Honestly, it’s a coin toss. Tonight could go in so many directions.

8:25 pm

Makeup. It’s snowing.

The gin and tequila bottles are officially empty. I place them precariously in the full recycling bin on top of plastic coffee containers and Pepsi cans. The Pink Whitney is next. Mixed with some lemon juice and sprite, it should hold me until the party. My fingers are a bit sluggish. They buzz and thrum while tipping up the bottle of Whitney. Alcohol isn’t a crutch. It’s a friend. And you need your friends if you’re going to make it through school.

Now. Makeup. Focus.

I’ll need primer and the anti-streak foundation that doesn’t look cakey. If you can see your foundation in a mirror, you aren’t doing it right. Lots of pressed powder with be my life saver. Helps the makeup fade more naturally. A crucial note. I won’t have time to touch up in my room before sleeping somewhere else.

Curl lashes. My phone buzzes on the dresser where it’s charging. Sweet, Katie responded! I’m with Jane, she just ran away, can you text her? C u soon. Perfect. I made a connection. Minimal, but that means I can follow up with Jane and keep in touch with Katie. If I locate Jane then I can be considered useful for their group to keep around.

Light eyeshadow with a dusting of highlighter on cheekbones and nose. Moisturize lips.

Spray that setting spray.

My head spins as I sit on my comforter. My fingers brush my lips and my stomach aches. If I puke now, I can rally and get even more drunk without worrying about the spins. Wait a little longer for the liquor to settle before visiting the bathroom.

Stories about the night appear on social media. Cade has a train of videos up already.

He’s going to be trashed by 10. Easily. I’ll need to keep up and make myself known.

9:06 pm

Head to Delta Gamma to warm up. Again. It’s snowing. Fucking cold. I think. My breath smells like mouthwash, lime, and tequila. My stomach is empty. Maybe someone at the sorority house will have nachos to settle the hunger pains. A few chips would get me through the night. Only a few though.

Katie is supposed to text me when she’s passing Delta Gamma. She would be my ticket in. I don’t want to lose her. Cade lived at the off-campus house known as “12.” You couldn’t come through to 12 solo. At least not to a party like this.

My shoes slosh through the wet snow. Two figures do an Irish jig up ahead. Two lampposts illuminate their silhouettes. Is that James and Mike? The reindeer onesie is easily James. Cute. Mike’s pajama suit is missing a butt flap. His underwear has the words “kiss me” in bright red. Mike’s girlfriend, Jane, is going to be thrilled.

Aw, they see me! I forget how great James’ hugs are. The fuzzy reindeer helps as well. Basically, a giant, warm, teddy bear. Snuggles all around! Got to keep warm on the trek to Delta Gamma and 12.

The platform shoes I chose for the night are not winter material. “You coming to 12 later?” Mike asks.

“Hell ya, I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to wear a Christmas sweater,” I respond. “Love.” James says.

“No one but the boys are going to be showing up until like 11, but we’d better see you,” Mike says. He drags and half stumbles away with James.

“You boys good?” I ask. James starts skipping to a songless dance. His tracks through the snow look like a deer with a lame leg.

“He’s good,” Mike chuckles and catches up to James a few paces ahead. The boys leave the halo of lamplight with me in it. Their laughs and shuffling feet fade away.

“See you boys in a few!”

A far-off wave from Mike raises as they dart across the street.

The house of Delta Gamma is lit up like a brick-covered Christmas Tree. I tap the snow off my shoes on the steps and kick open the front door. The house is eerily silent for a Saturday. One of the girls is in the kitchen stirring a pot of macaroni pasta. Two girls with slippers on, pad by with laundry baskets tucked under their arms.

10:04pm

Get Christmas-y. In the backroom, I pull on knee-high socks with light up snowmen on the calves. They’re a bit itchy. A cheap, Walmart sweater dress slips over my shoulders. A massive penguin is embroidered, or ironed, onto the front with a gaudy shimmery outline. It hits mid-thigh. Perfect.

I shuffle over to the living room and plop down onto the couch. I swipe through stories from pre-games across campus. My own camera roll sends me a memory from two summers ago.

Overexposed photo with the contrast up too high. It seems to have green edges from the filter that had been hodge-podged on top. I was sitting out in front of a public library with my arms full of books. A look of idealism in my eyes. Two tank tops were layered op top of a plaid mini skirt. It was what I thought was cute and preppy. It wasn’t. Innocent and pure, the only romance was read in novels.

Seems a little girl grew up. Grew up into a darker world than she had ever imagined. But at least this world had alcohol.

I exit the memory and continue looking through the bright lives of others. Bright and shiny and fun lives. Katie and Jane found each other apparently. They were taking shots. They’d better let me know when they head out to 12.

Sounds of laughter drifted down from upstairs in Delta Gamma. “Come up!” I hear in the stairwell, a shot directed at me.

I swipe my gin mix from its spot on the floor and head up. Her room is full of boxes. “You sure you have to graduate and leave us?”

“I have so much to pack before Tuesday, I may just stay.” “Finals going okay?”

“Yeah, I took an Addy earlier, so I got all my papers done. The crash is making me nauseas though. I wanted to go out tonight but my head.”

“Still time. Bar will be popping at midnight.” “Ugh, I wanted a farewell Saturday before I leave.”

“Show up as you are and send, honestly.”

“How do you get your makeup to not look heavy? Sorry, random question. Do you want to watch how I do mine while you wait?”

“Oh absolutely!”

“My skin has been looking horrible recently, can you see the red bumps on my cheek?”

I squint, appraising the area her fingers point to. “Your skin looks really nice from my angle.”

“Okay. I don’t know. Maybe it’s this mirror.”

“Mirrors are dangerous.” I flick the top off the bottle and take a sip. “Who are you waiting on?”

“Katie and Jane and the rest. They’re pre gaming across campus and I wasn’t feeling the walk.”

“Didn’t they ditch you the last three times you went out?”

“Yeah. But they’re the only people I know who are going to 12 for the Christmas party.” “Damn, I hope they come through and make sure you aren’t left anywhere you’re uncomfortable.” She dabs concealer under her eyes. I take another swig and cough. “This is strong.”

“Please tell me you have a mixer in that, and it isn’t just gin.” “Ginger beer. Don’t worry, I don’t want to die that much tonight.” “Oh perf. How am I doing?”

“You look like one hot girl in a sweatshirt.”

“Awesome. I’m going to go wash it off. Is Cade going to be at 12?” “His story says so yeah.”

“You going to be okay with all those guys in the same house?”

“Give me until here,” I point halfway down the bottle. “I’ll be as happy and social as a fairy.” My phone buzzes. Katie’s text reads, bye Delt Gma. She probably meant “by.” But I appreciate the sentiment.

“Okay. Katie just texted me. She’s somewhere around here. I should head out to catch them.”

“Oh my gosh, live tonight up for me! Want a shot of fireball?” “You know me well.”

“Use this shot glass. It’s my lucky one.” I pour it full and tip it back. The cinnamon warms my throat as it goes down.

“Now I’m ready.” “Go get ‘em, girl.” “See you tomorrow!” “Bye!”

10:57pm

Run to 12.

Wet snowflakes land on my eyelashes. The night was a warm snow, one you could imagine sitting inside wrapped in soft blankets and sipping hot cider to. Except that wasn’t the social practice on Saturday night in college.

I scan the street and sidewalk from the porch of Delta Gamma. A lamppost flickers. The snow melts into dirty slush on the sides of the road.

The timestamp on Katies text reads 10:55. Definitely should be here. Or at least close by.

This campus was small enough. If I started walking now, I could wait outside 12 until a group came so that I could enter with others.

Brown, icy water splashes onto my socks. I bury my hands in my coat pockets. A waddling penguin would have been spotted by a passerby had anyone been driving late that night. A particularly large puddle approached.

Harsh spits of laughter echo down from the road to my right. A group of scattered girls skip and shuffle toward me. They cut in front of me and we all turn into the driveways of 12 together. Someone in an oversized yellow parka slows down, a short girl in a puffer coat and beanie along with her.

“Oh my god, hey!” the one in yellow exclaimed. “Wait, Jane?”

“Glad you found us!”

“Yeah, Katie texted me you were by my house.”

“I’m right here,” Katie mumbled inside her puffer coat.

The three of us reach the door of 12. A girl tumbles out in a short skirt and black sweater. “Bucket!” She screams. Jane looks at me and rolls her eyes.

“She’s just glad I planned this whole thing,” Jane says. All I see are bodies.

11:02pm

Socialize. We shoulder our way in to 12. The entryway is a crowd, half of which have jackets on, half of which are scantily clad and glistening with sweat. There is a mountain of cots and parkas just inside the door and covers the wall from floor to ceiling. Katie drops the puffer coat and dons sunglasses. She looks up at me and takes a long hit from her dab pen.

Katie’s head falls back like a puppet without strings and grins with a half laugh. She morphs into the crowd and disappears.

I assess the leaning tower of winter gear. Seems legit. Phone in hand, I stuff my down coat into the corner, with an extra little tuck to make sure it stays put. My phone battery reads 56 percent. Enough charge to last me until midnight if I make a point to not message anyone until I leave.

The main room of 12 was pulsating blue and red lights to the beat of the surround sound stereo system. The world was half blurry, half in focus. All of the girls are between the heights of five foot two and five six. They nod lazy heads and bump into each other like aggressive bumper cars. Of those girls, a decent handful of them have Christmas themed attire on. The other half have clothing that only covers up their asses by an inch.

Deep bass vibrates the wall, shaking splattered droplets of beer off the vertical surface.

The room reeks of mushrooms, spilt vodka, and sour beer.

Cade falls through an opening in the crowd. He’s wearing Santa suspenders and cowboy boots. He hops back up. His face is relaxed with alcohol and his movements are laden with swaying motions.

“Hey you,” I nod, raising an eyebrow and taking a swig of my bottle. “Merry Chrithmas.”

Cade reaches a hand around my back in a half hug. He shifts to the side and drops his hand. It curls up my cheap sweater dress and takes a handful. Well. He remembers who I am. That’s a plus.

The half-naked Santa, Cade, disappears into the crowd.

I find a group of girls I know from class and empty the bottle.

2:08am

I blink. My contact lenses ache. I’m outside. It’s cold. Is it? I think it is. I’m standing on a sidewalk. There are dead weeds between the cracks of cement. I’m standing before a house. All the lights are off. I’ve been there before. I know the doors are unlocked. It’s Cade’s house.

I look down. I’m not wearing the Christmas dress from Walmart. There are soft joggers and a light sweatshirt that must be keeping me warm. When did I change?

I squint at the house and shoulder my way through the front door. The couch in the living room is flipped upside down. Boxes and wrapping paper cover the floor. Beer cans are lodge in between cushions. There are multiple dark stains on the carpet.

Buzzing in my pocket brings Cade’s messages.

Eyyyy.

better be in bed when I get there.

How long had we been talking tonight? When did I leave 12? It had to have been a good 30 minutes ago if I had had time to change and then walk to Cade’s. Where was I in between midnight and now?

Sleep pulls my eyelids down. My head lulls and swirls. I kick off boots and crawl into Cade’s bed. That was the only logical thing that I could come up with. I trusted him enough to at least wake me when he got back if he still wanted sex.

9am

Fuck its morning.

An arm is wrapped around my midsection. Soft breaths tickle my neck. Biceps twitch at my ribcage. A short snore catches in his throat. Definitely Cade.

We didn’t have sex last night, did we? I don’t feel like we did. I went to sleep. He probably did too. What do I remember from the night before? Gin. Delta Gamma. Coats. The coat wall. Beer. A keg?

Flashes of bodies. Naked bodies swim somewhere behind my eyelids. I can’t quite place them.

Cade wriggles at my back. He’s wearing boxers so I’d say that we didn’t. He moans, dragging his fingers down the side of my body and cupping my rear. I shiver. He tilts his head into my neck. I don’t feel safe. But to leave would mean facing the morning alone. My bed was cold. Cade’s was warm.

“Morning.”