Jim finds himself in the spotlight with a girl who gives Lauren a run for her money.
|Emma was her name. Charlie remarked that the whole thing was a set up right before they left for the party. Jim at first wasn’t thrilled when he heard the news; in fact he was quite livid with Charlie over it. He felt naked, unprepared, and felt as if he was about to walk in a shit storm that he couldn’t get out of at all.
“How could you do this?” Jim demanded.
“I don’t know, we just did,” replied Charlie as they entered Ken’s room. Ken’s roommate, a tall kid with long brown hair and a crooked nose sat in a chair in front of a desk. To Jim, the kid looked like he was a Californian surfer; he even had a tropical button down shirt on with khaki pants. He eyed up Jim a second before he turned his attention to Charlie.
“Charlie, my man,” the kid said as he got up from his chair and embraced Charlie with a handshake and a hug. “How are you?”
Charlie laughed as if he was pleasantly surprised to see the kid. “How’s it going, Brian? Are the bitches still treating you well?”
“You got that right, little man.”
“Brian, this is my friend Jim,” said Charlie as he turned towards Jim and motioned to him. “Jim, this is Ken’s roommate, Brian. He’s on the lacrosse team as well.”
Jim nodded to Brian slowly as if he didn’t know what to do. He simply thought that Brian was too good for him, and therefore, wouldn’t even take a notice to Jim. However that was not the case as Brian extended a hand to Jim, who took it surprised. Jim simply assumed that his lackluster status would have carried over to the college campus.
“How you doing, man?” Brian asked.
“Hey,” said Jim.
Charlie looked amused by the whole exchange as he tapped Brian on his bulky shoulders. “Don’t mind Jim over here, Brian. I just told him the only reason he was here was because we were going to get him a girl—he flipped out as usual.”
“I didn’t flip—“
“Oh relax,” said Charlie as he threw his hands up in annoyance. “You can thank us later,” added Charlie as he went over to the mini fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer that Jim never heard of. “Brian, you want one?”
“Nah man, I’m cool.” Brian replied. “I got my own shit in my desk.” He opened up a drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Jim’s eyes opened up wide as he recognized the brand, his own father had the same bottle in their cabinet in the basement, ever since Charlie had gotten him to drink at his house, and Jim had eyed the bottle for the longest time. Brian must have seen Jim’s reaction because he laughed very hard. “Hey, have you seen this before?”
Jim nodded vigorously as if he were a small child who the adults finally paid attention to. “Yeah, we have some of that at my house.”
“This is some good shit here,” replied Brian as he threw his red cup down and poured some from the bottle into the cup. “Here man, you want some?”
Jim didn’t know what to do, but simply stand there foolishly. He looked at the bottle excitedly as he understood that this was his chance to drink it, and yet he hesitated—and he didn’t know why. Brian meanwhile, looked as if he was about to piss his pants. He jumped around breathlessly as if the suspense of whether or not Jim was going to have a drink or not was in fact, elating to watch.
“Well, you two seem to be getting along just fine,” said Charlie. “I will go and head off to catch Anne. Emma, you know how she gets with a few beers in her…” Charlie remarked as he rolled his eyes before he walked behind Jim and mumbled softly in his ear. “Have a good night, and don’t fuck it up, buddy.”
Jim turned around swiftly to grab a quick look at Charlie, but it was too late—he had already been lost in the crowd that gathered around the living room. Jim now faced the breath-taking girl in front of him alone, and all he could do was sigh in despair. It was going to be a long night for him, and he cursed Charlie for leaving him in such a soon to be mess. He now faced the prospect of trying to handle the entire night without a single fuck up on his part—certainly something he had never done before. He knew it was going to be impossible as he already predicted by the end of the night he would make a fool out of himself. However, at the same time, Jim could tell that the alcohol was numbing the doubt in his head ever so slowly. He found himself confident, self-assured that, unlike other times and situations that included Lauren, he wouldn’t fuck up—and the smile that appeared on Emma’s face was evidence to that self-awareness of his new founded confidence.
“I assume they were some final last words of encouragement from Charlie?” Emma asked. “Couldn’t it have been a prelude to you trying to score tonight?”
Jim stared at her petrified for a moment. He had not expected such a question to come out of her mouth. He hesitated for a brief moment, but that was enough to make him look foolish. It hadn’t been more than thirty seconds since Charlie left, and Jim already was embarrassed.
Emma didn’t even take notice to Jim’s mumbling. Instead, she looked around as if she was amazed by the scene around them. It was of course, a scene to see—Jim had never seen it in person, but he assumed that the current atmosphere was somewhat close to what his fellow high school counterparts did on their weekends. Boys stumbled across the room drunkenly, saluting and greeting one another as if they were street thugs. The girls were all slutty looking, those denim jeans made their asses stick out like a sore thumb, which was obviously what they wanted all along as even the mildly mannered gentlemen in the room, Jim included, couldn’t resist taking a peek at their ‘goods’, which made him turn his attention to Emma.
She was certainly dolled up for the occasion. Her face had scattered remnants of make-up, but it wasn’t over the top like most of the girls in attendance. Jim could tell right off the bat that Emma could look cute without any make-up at all, but the addition of it made her a lot sexier. In tow with the other ladies, she had on a pair of jeans, which were clothed rather tightly around her legs, and up to her hips. Jim could only imagine how she looked from the other side, an angle he didn’t have the pleasure of seeing yet.
She wore a black v-shaped sweater, which at the bulge of the letter V, exposed not only a laced white bra, but also a lot of cleavage. They were to his liking—not too big, not too small. They were just right as if he were Goldilocks. He tried his best to not stare too much, but alas, his gentlemanly mind had him sneak as many looks as possible without being caught. Naturally since he was a nervous wreck most of the time, the thought entered his mind that if he drank way more than he intended, and got caught with a quick look or glance down her shirt, he could always blame it on the alcohol—an excuse in which he assumed could be readily available for his leisurely pleasure. He obviously didn’t know Emma that well to know if she would care or not. God forbid if he looked down Lauren’s shirt, he would have received hell for it—and almost immediately he wondered if Dan Anderson had made more progress than he did.