She kept brushing her shoulder against mine, touching my arm--that's when I thought I would kiss her

I came to college in the middle of a hurricane. The city was choked with cars, slowing, stopping, everyone asking directions. All day I heard the same thing. Some forty-year old guy with his bald head sticking out the window, “Hey, where’s Columbia Hall? Hey, where’s the Student Union?”

Or some lady with jewelry jingling from her wrists waving me down off the sidewalk to ask me where the freshman quad was. I wouldn’t mind all of this really, but I was a transfer student and it was my first day on this campus myself.

The hurricane made everything seem even more screwed up, more chaotic and surreal. I was by myself and I had all my stuff in a storage unit some place downtown. So I walked all day alone around the town and the college and the buildings.

It’s always the same on the first day of college. Kids unloading cars and cardboard boxes all over the place. Moms and dads in tears watching their firstborns going off to four years or binge drinking, promiscuous unprotected sex, and hangovers. If they’re lucky they’ll get out with a degree. If they’re really lucky, they’ll get out with something more. Maybe a little something like a better understanding of how the world works. Maybe just a little piece of “this is life,” you know?

So, by myself, not knowing anyone at the college, the city, or the whole state even, I walked around past the bustling and the unloading. Past the unpacking and the moving in. Past the cars honking and the parents crying and shaking hands and under every “Welcome Students” sign I stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets and hoped to God I’d have as much fun at this school as I did the past two back in New York.

Eventually it got darker and the last of the minivan’s taillights disappeared over the horizon of the interstate. I found myself in the downtown area surrounded by what looked like over a hundred bars, cars and neon signs. There were Christmas lights strung up through the palm trees and Jimmy Buffet music poured into the street like rain.

I didn’t see an adult for seven blocks. What I saw looked like a petting zoo for college kids. In one bar, foam leaked out the door and dance music rippled the windows.

I checked my pockets for cash. As I threw away two gum wrappers and a folded sheet of directions to the Admissions office, a guy and a girl fell through an open door laughing and holding each other. I stepped out of the way just as the girl almost puked on my shoe.

Laughing, and out of cash I thought I might as well walk back to the campus and see if I could pick up a few coins on the way. I would look for the infamous house party. The no-cover party with the red cups and the kegs. The ice luge and beer bongs and people screaming from the roof. I mean if town place had a downtown like this I couldn’t wait to see what the parties would be like, and on the first day of Welcome Students, I figured there had to be something big going on somewhere.

Four blocks later I got my wish.

Or I thought I did. What happened next was bound to be the big kick in the ass that I had been deserving from college since the day I first started funneling beers and skipping classes. Taking bong rips instead of finals. Passing out when they were passing out the roll sheet. I found my party all right. I was just up the street from where I would be living, and when I had to meet my three new roommates for the first time I thought I’d get nice and wasted first. Give them a good first impression. And if that impression wasn’t good enough, well at least I was being honest about it.

So there it was on a side street off the main road to campus. Girls and guys standing around the front yard and blocking the sidewalk, drinking out of red and blue plastic cups. There was a band playing on the terrace roof. Guitars and Bongo drums.

As I slowed down a girl caught my arm and pulled me off the walkway. She handed me her plastic cup. She was leaning into me and dancing a little, but not looking at my eyes.

“Do you want to party?” she yelled, arching her back against me, still dancing.

I shook her empty cup at her. Finding my hand she took it and pulled me past a group of guys and I wondered if she was one of theirs. Probably. I didn’t care. Inside, the band music was louder and people stood all in groups, red and blue cups in their hands, laughing and talking. Some sat alone and read books. She took the cup back from me and let go of my hand, her fingers sliding across mine forever as she walked away.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she whispered into my ear and my hand dropped back to my side, a snapped synapse.

When she came back she had two cups.

“Blue for the boys,” she said and giggled as she put her arm around my shoulder.

She asked me my name and where I was from. Asked me how I came to go to school here and what my major was. All the while, she brushed against my shoulder with hers, or would touch me on my arm when I said something that made her laugh. I felt a pressure begin in the front of my jeans and I kept on smiling.

“So, I guess this is where I ask you?” she said.

I couldn’t think of what she meant.

“You know…” She said, and stood in front of me. Looking me in the eyes, head titled a little, a piece of her hair hanging in front of her eyes. She blew it out of the corner of her mouth and in a second I thought I would kiss her.

“So…Have you been saved?” She asked, her head bent forward and eyes widening like it was something the two of us had been dancing and playing around all night.

My cup was to my lips and I took a sip. Almost choked.

Suddenly I could hear the band playing through the ceiling, the acoustic guitar, and the bongo drums. The vocals haunting and familiar. And echoed. Echoed from the people outside, and as I looked out through the glass doors to the lawn and the sidewalk I could see all the kids with their hands raised toward the sky or towards the music and they were singing. I looked down into my cup.

I was drinking punch.

It was a God damn church party!

I ran all the way home.

Even now that I’m almost done with college, that first day of school is something I always remember when I’m finding my name on the exam seating chart, or when I’m looking at job opportunities on the bulletin board at the career center.

Wherever I go in life, I’m sure there’s going to be that party going on some place that I’ll always be looking for. And if I find it, I better not get so sure of myself and remember, you know the second you start to think you’re on top of the world or you’re invincible or whatever, just look around. Things aren’t always dropped at your feet. And when I need that kick in the ass that tells me “maybe it’s time to grow up and out of this kind of lifestyle,” I see that girl looking at me over her fruit punch with her Sunday school, goody-girl future red-state-America housewife, no sex before the honeymoon-bedroom eyes, and I think…

okay, I guess I needed that.