Two weeks later Maria drove us back. We explored the bars and ended up at The Orr Club, the football team hangout. I spotted Liam, then positioned myself so he had to see me and make the first move. Sure enough he sauntered on over. We spent the next few hours drinking and dancing. We closed the bar way past Maria’s curfew, and Liam walked me through the parking lot. I pressed him against her car and gave him a goodbye worth remembering. He asked for my phone number.
He called a few days later. He and his communal house of guys were putting a party together. Would the three of us like to stop by?
Yes, indeed…
Their rental, a turn-of-the century manse from St. Louis’ heyday, retained its lustre. From original woodwork to decent furniture, it was far more prep school than the Animal House frat cave we expected. The guys and their dates were as polished as the mantel trophies.
By this time I’d mimicked Alexandra and Maria enough to be secure in my rebranded self, smug in my transformation from townie to coed. After two beers my intimidation faded as I chatted up pre-med and engineering majors, future attorneys and Wall Street scions. I drew laughs when I made up an incident allegedly talking my sociology professor into letting me research The Young and the Restless for an upcoming assignment.
I wanted what those girls at his house had. I even contemplated buying a monogrammed sweater or Bermuda bag.
Liam remained attentive and we drank our way upstairs into buzzed bliss. I ended up in his room, then in his bed. Within a short time he waved a condom packet at me and we were at it. I stayed the night. The perfect place to lose it.
I awoke dry-mouthed and hung over, not sure how I was going to get home. Liam looked at the ceiling and asked me if that had been my first time.
“Yes. Guess you could tell.”
He smiled, clearly proud of deflowering his latest preppy co-ed, then changed the subject. He had a football meeting, could he drop me at home on his way? We showered separately. I watched him dress in college-issue athletic gear, happy to see him bask in my frank admiration. Within the hour he drove me to what I told him was my off-campus rental.
“There’s some woman at the window,” he said as pulled up to the curb.
“Downstairs tenant. Total pain-in-the-butt busybody.” I kissed him and opened the passenger door before my mother could shoot out of the house to check out the fancy kid in the fancy car. Her welcoming smirk said it all. I spent my childhood listening to her and my Aunt Kelly’s graphic sexual innuendos and I was in no mood to hear them now. I went to my room, locked the door against her ignorant remarks, and slept the rest of the day.
I started my high school junior year unexpectedly invested in my Liam fantasy. I replayed that night, and recalled conversation as much as the sex. He had called me. Called and invited me to the house party. This made it a real date, right?
The college girls had laughed at my stories; offered me chips and salsa. I could fit right in, couldn’t I?
I heard from Liam a few times—classes and football had started and he was traveling with the team with limited time to party. If these were dropped hints, I ignored them. We caught up a few more times, the last at the bar where we’d met. He seemed all ego and attitude. I ignored that, too.
Deep into fall he asked me to another house party. I gladly accepted on behalf of my friends since I needed a ride, but he offered to pick me up. This felt like progress, dangerous though it was. My parents were out as usual. Genevieve and Darby barely looked up when I said I was going out. I waited for Liam outside in the glow of the streetlights. The party matched the first one. Free-flowing booze on the first floor and clean sheets on the second. I presented myself better than ever. I chatted easily with the hot crowd until Liam suddenly tugged me away—a total ego boost. He hustled me outside and turned romantic while showing me the harvest moon. We kissed at the potted mums on the front steps, under the oak tree by the curb, and along the hedges lining the driveway to the service entrance.
I knew what turned him on. We entered the kitchen. As we passed the fridge, I whispered my idea of soft porn. Or more precisely, suggestions Aunt Kelly’d been slinging around in my presence.
“Oh, baby.” He opened what I thought was a pantry door but it was the old back staircase for the help. Up we went. I was still new at this so I managed my drinks and stayed just buzzed enough to laugh as we crossed the hall into his bedroom.
I swear I woke up grinning, all hazy from our wild night but hangover free. I was stone cold sober, clearheaded enough to recognise that the tight rope I was walking threatened to wobble but aching to make my magic act last. I reached for him under the covers.
He put his hand over mine.
I propped myself up on my elbow and arched my eyebrows.
“Don’t tell me you want to wait till next weekend?”
He threw off the sheet. “Let’s go for a coffee…starving…”
I knew his every expression and voice inflection. This wasn’t good. I swung off my side of the bed and into the bathroom. His introspection and need for breakfast raised concern. Had he talked with Wash U communications majors? Did he suspect the woman at the window had been my mother? Shit. He’d probably noticed I never mentioned going to any of his home games, or classes or much of anything. Internal alarms sounded by the time we headed for a campus bistro. He’d caught one of my lies, for sure. I kept quiet, afraid I’d say something wrong and lose my advantage.
He bought us coffee and egg sandwiches. “Look—”
“I’m guessing there’s something you want to tell me.” He shrugged. He sipped. “Fuck.”
“We did.”
He didn’t laugh. “Look, Emily, I might as well explain. There’s this girl. This other girl. Jessica Carpenter.” He sipped again. “Jessica.”
“You said that.”
“Fuck.”
“You said that, too.” Some ditz named Carpenter and here I’d thought he was on to me.
“I swear it doesn’t matter. She and I agreed—” he said to his egg sandwich.
“Go on.”
“You and I… You know it was, like, just pick up sex. But then it was your first time and all.”
Now I got it full in the face.
“You’re amazing, Emily. It’s never been like this. You’re never in the way. You totally let me get my work done. No demands. You’re never hanging around the locker rooms or thinking we need to study together. It’s like you’re not even on campus. You totally get me. And…” Deep breath. “The sex is pure fireworks. Like you’re in my brain and my blood.”
“This is a problem?” I looked him in the eye. “Because there’s this Jessica. Let me guess. You’re totally lying your ass off to her.”
He winced. Well, he explained, the thing was, she’d been his high school girlfriend. Very serious. Total commitment. She was at Stephens College, now. All women. So he didn’t worry.
I chewed on that one. Didn’t worry about her activities or didn’t worry about getting caught? He was sure as hell worried about something.
“Emily, I swear Jess and I have an understanding,” he said a third time. …Dating other people…free to enjoy the college lifestyle. Blah blah blah. Trouble was—
