“Short for Nicole,” she explained without looking up from my Physics text.
I stole a sidelong glance at her body. Her legs were pale and smooth and looked soft to the touch. On her left thigh I could see just the bottom of another tattoo and wondered what it could be. When I looked up she was watching me intently. Attempting to cover my embarrassment I joked, “Did you just come from the Young Republicans meeting?”
“Church — I’m an altar girl,” she said without missing a beat. She looked me over critically. “You don’t fit in, either.”
I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans but I knew what she meant. My body language was all wrong. I nodded. “My roommate’s party, my roommate’s friends, his friends’ friends, and so on. You know anyone here?”
She shook her head. “No one. I walked a friend back to her room after a movie, heard the music and decided to crash.”
We talked as I continued pouring beers. Nico told me she was majoring in sociology and I said I was studying computer science and engineering. The fact that she didn’t run away after I told her was encouraging. The music down the hall was cranked even higher and drinkers crowded in around us, forcing us closer together. Nicole shouted one-sided conversation in my ear as I pumped the keg. To be honest, I don’t recall too much of what she said but I clearly remember the feel of her breath on my ear and the five times her body rubbed against my arm as the crowd pressed in.
Eventually the keg ran dry and I had the unenviable task of turning away drunk but thirsty souls, their collective mood turning darker by the moment. All of my attempts to get them out the door failed, the crowd growing more surly. In the end it was Nico who drove them from the room with pushes and kicks, swearing at them the whole time. I taped a sign on the door, closed it and locked it.
“Thanks. I thought we were going to be overrun.”
“The only thing a mob will understand is force,” she explained. It sounded like she was disappointed in me in some way. “You need to be more forceful and not let them walk all over you.” I nodded mutely, thoroughly chastised. Then she smiled slightly. “Anyway, I owed you for sharing your mug.”
Nico sat cross-legged on my bed, sipping what was left of the beer, watching me shuffle around the room picking up trash. Her skirt had ridden up a bit exposing more of her thighs. I pretended not to notice and concentrated on stacking discarded plastic cups and tossing them in the wastebasket. I finally got to my bookshelf and was, at last, able to reshuffle the textbooks into the correct order. The urge to touch them seven times almost overwhelmed me but I fought it successfully. Only crazy people touch things like that. When I looked at her I saw she had a curious expression on her face.
“What?”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted thoughtfully. Finally, she asked, “Are you gay?”
“No,” I said, completely unoffended. It was not the first time that question had been asked of me.
“Didn’t think so.” She patted the mattress next to her. “Come here and take a break.”