ShameLess (6 page)

Ugh! Fuck! Save me!

“Hey! So, you must be S’renaty James. I’m Jade Sterling. Oh my god, I’m so excited we finally get to meet. We are going to have SO much fun!” She has her arms full of boxes; otherwise, I absolutely know she is the huggy-type and would be throwing her arms around my neck. I am certainly not going to entertain that. The ‘old me’ would have been initiating a first hug during our first meet-n-greet, but not now, that’s for damn sure!

Hold up!
“Excited to meet me?”
How can she possibly be excited to meet me? I made it a point to be as brief as possible when replying to her emails and texts. I was not even thrilled to have received the first ones from her after I learned the school does that, so you have time to get to know your roommate before the move-in day.
How courteous of them.
However, I never got specific or personal with her, out of pure necessity to defend myself. I chose to respond to her emails with short, curt replies.

I do the only thing I can and give her another brief reply. “Oh, hey! Yeah, it’s great, huh?”

I turn away from her and wander toward the window overlooking the courtyard below. I gaze out, aware that I am ignoring her. Before, I would have offered to help her. I would have struck up a gossipy conversation about a hot guy I had seen or, one that I noticed being socially awkward. I would have most undeniably commented on her clothes as I helped her hang them; make some regard to her outfit, hair, make-up or shoes. Absolutely, I would have inquired about personal things such as her friends back home, whether she has or had a boyfriend, which frat party she was interested in going to first, or maybe even about her classes and what her major is. That was before. Not now.

These days, I know
I
am the socially awkward one, for the first time. I also realize I am not going to take baby steps. I shush my mother’s voice inside my head, which I am hearing vividly. Without doubt, I will be crawling through the start-up of this roommate situation. Hell, I will be crawling throughout this entire college experience. I am not a betting girl, but I would most indubitably bet my last heartbeat on this.

“Do you have a nickname? I feel like S’renaty is too long to shout across the room.” I hear her cutesy voice asking from behind me.

As I turn around, I reply, “My friends, I mean my family, call me Ren. I guess you can call me that, too.”

She is now grinning up at me while resting on her knees, pulling out framed pictures from one of her boxes. “Perfect! You look like a Ren to me. Who sings this? I love it! It makes me want to hit the clubs or shake my ass on the floor of a frat house basement par-tay.”

She lets out a giggle or two. Fucking giggles, really? She goes right back to pulling out items from her box. I stand here watching her shyly, at first, as the energetic vibe she omits is in perfect synchronization to how her body is swaying to the rhythm of the music.

“It’s Ice Nine Nail,
Acceptance In The Waves
,” I answer.

She nods, continuing to empty her boxes and jamming out to the music. She moves her whole body, banging her head during the chorus. Her inverted blonde bob swings flowing right along with her petite frame.

Every so often, as her head turns in my direction, her blue eyes sparkle even brighter than her smile. I can tell that Jade is oblivious to her own beauty, but what strikes me more ironic is how her inner beauty overtly shines even brighter. I smile at her, genuinely this time.

As she carries on, she chimes in, “Totally random, but why don’t you have a Facebook page? I tried to Facebook stalk you when I found out we were going to be roommates. I couldn’t find you.” Her sunny disposition is a mix of both cheerfulness and confusion, throwing me for a loop. I mean, why does she even care?

How am I supposed to explain to her that I did have one, but deleted it because of all of the horribly offensive comments and posts and that I had to shut it down? I know I have to answer her, but what do I say? I choose, “Eh, I prefer to keep up with my friends in other ways.” Yeah right, I don’t think she believes me any more than I do, but at least she doesn’t interrogate me. Chalk one up for Jade.

As the song shuffles and switches to The Black Eyed Peas, a loud, abrupt knocking at our door startles us over the thumping bass of “
Let’s Get It Started”
,

You'll want me body people will walk you through it.

Step by step, like an infant new kid.

Inch by inch with the new solution.

Transmit hits, with no delusion.

The feeling's irresistible and that's how we movin'.

Her body stills. She arches one of her perfectly salon manicured brows.

“I’ll get it,” I suggest then speedily reach for the remote turning down the volume before walking toward the door, leaving her sitting amongst her belongings, in her own little world.

I peer out, swiping my eyes down each stretch of the corridor. No one is there. I mean, there
are
people there, but they all seem engrossed with continuing to move in, gathering in conversations, and becoming acquainted with one another. Obviously, all of them are too busy to have noticed anyone knocking on our door.

I see it.

Taped to our wooden dorm door is an 8 1/2x11” piece of paper. In bold ink it reads, “ΦΣK WELCOMES YOU! COME ONE; COME ALL! Don’t miss this opportunity to meet new people, mix, and mingle during one of the best social events to kick off the school year”.

The printout continues with words signaling an open invitation to one of the campus’ frat parties at the Phi Sigma Kappa house. There it is… the word ‘social’. I cringe. I slam the door shut, crinkling the paper, and balling it up in my hands.

Gah!
She just said she wanted to party!

“What is that? Wait! Give that here. I want to see it.” She reaches upward, almost losing her balance while only now positioned on half of one knee.

Grabbing for it, she implores “Ren, c’mon. Hand it to me.”

“Oh! It’s nothing. It’s just one of those stupid mixer things. You know the ones our dads warned us to stay away from.” Laughing, I turn away, so she doesn’t see how eager I am to toss it into the trashcan, which I do as hurriedly as possible.

Naturally, her socially tuned ears have perked up, so my disinterest can’t be tossed away as easily as the paper. She digs it out, smoothing out the folds of the sheet and squeals, “Oh my god! We have to go! We are SO going to this!”

If I weren’t actually looking at her, I would swear she was jumping up and down. If a trampoline were present, trust me, it would only serve as an aid in her dramatic performance. The excitement in her voice is palpable as she squeals – quite enthusiastically, I might add. Yep! Jade is so much like Elle, it is frightening.

“Ha! No, no, no! I am not going. I don’t do parties. You can go, but I am going to stay right here, read a fabulous E-book, and finish getting settled in.”

“Settled in? God, Ren, how much more ‘settled’ can you get? Besides, we always have tomorrow to finish.” She grunts then starts snickering past her sarcasm flapping her hands, demanding, “Look, this is THE event of the year. I’ve heard about this from so many people and it’s going to kick ass. We are not going to miss this. So, you will not stay in with a book or anything of the sort. Besides, you can’t let me go alone. Safety first, remember? Ah, c’mon, you’ve got to come...plleeaassee…” She is begging now.

There it is … the begging.
God! I hate begging.

Elle used to pull this shit on me, too. Each time, it would work for her like a charm. I know this is going to make me surrender. I. Just. Know. It. I have to stand my ground. I stiffen my shoulders, pulling them back to stand a little taller and exude more confidence. I flip my dark strands over my shoulders, and firmly state, “Oh, yes, YES, I can. I
absolutely
can let you go alone. And, I plan on doing just that. Have fun!” I chirp with a more firm, authoritative and confident tone in my voice as I turn away from her. There! I certainly told her.

I am proudly relishing in my first stance of socially alienating myself, but then she drops to the floor, pouting. Yep, she even puckers her bottom lip, like Elle.
Dammit!
I try ignoring her. I even pick up a magazine that I had planned to read later. I flip through its pages appearing as disinterested as I honestly want to be, even though a small part of me is stirring with extreme interest. It doesn’t work for long.

An inner voice screams ‘
baby steps’.
Thanks Mom! I
just want to crawl, remember?

Caving hard, and throwing my hands in the air, I surrender, “Okay, okay! I’ll go along. But, I’m not staying long, and I am SO not going to have fun.” Like me saying this aloud to her, or in my own mind, has any effect on either of us at all. Believe me, it does not. The thought barely has time to cross my mind before she is pulling me by the arms, off the bed, eager to start planning our outfits.

“YAY!” Now, she
IS
jumping up and down. “What are we going to wear?”

Oh God! I have no idea what to wear to a college party, so I spit out, “Umm, jeans and a t-shirt?”

“Oh hell to the N-O, you are not wearing a t-shirt! Are you freaking kidding me? This is our first frat party at college. We’re about the same size, and I have tons of clothes. My mom just took me on a huge shopping spree before coming here.” She skips over to her closet, still be-bopping to the tunes flowing through our space, and starts pulling out things from her closet. Before I have a chance to protest, there is already a heaping pile of clothes lying on the bed next to me. The first thing she holds up and then tosses over to me is just best to describe as a Band-Aid for boobs. There is no other accurate way to explain it.

Shaking my head ‘no’, I holding it up between my forefinger and thumb, I ask, “Where is the rest of this?” I used to be up on the latest fashion trends, loved following the styles and designers, and even read all of the latest magazines with Elle. After her death, I gave it all up and just stuck with losing myself in a book. They are safer, and without the painful reminders.

“Don’t be lame, Ren. How ‘bout a pair of dark skinnies and this… This flowy top is perfect, and the ruffles at the top are killer! The turquoise will look amaze balls with your eyes and dark hair! Yes! This is it.” Jade zealously flings them at me, without giving me a chance to respond. I don’t mind. I actually agree with her, considering it is the most modest choice she has shown me so far. I catch them with both hands, still flinching inside at the thought of considering outfits for a college party.

“I’ll wear this with my blue skinnies,” she states while holding up a cream-colored sheer tight-fitting shirt, with tiny buttons part way down the front. “And, this under it,” she exclaims, picking up a red tank with a low V-neckline trimmed in matching red lace. She confidently drapes both pieces over the desk chair next to her.

“Wait! Ermehgerd! You have a pair of heels that’ll match. I saw them earlier,” she quickly adds while rushing over to my closet, plucking the exact pair of heels out.

They are just a pair of brown leather, open toe strappies. I used to love these. The last time I wore them was… well, never mind. I bought them one day while shopping at the mall with Elle, and planned to wear them out on an upcoming date with Tuck, but never got the chance. I still love them, though, and Jade is right, they will look fab with the shirt she picked out.

I truthfully don’t know whether I’m ready for this.
Great, just fucking great!

With that, I am shoved into walking before even stepping. Absolutely, no crawling involved.

God help me, save me now!

Tense. A burning ignites my insides, and I feel extremely nervous as we approach the large white two-story structure, otherwise known as the Phi Sigma Kappa house. A worn wooden front porch with Ionic white columns supports an upper balcony adorned with a hanging banner confirming this is the home of the brotherhood, ΦΣK. I read it instantly and release the air taking up residence in my lungs. I didn’t even realize I was imprisoning any.