The Impact of You

Jase

The blond skims her nails over my chest and lowers herself down until her face is level with my groin. She bites her bottom lip and blinks up at me seductively. Too bad this is doing absolutely fucking nothing for me. I attempt a smile, but my face feels tight and unnatural. I grip her arms and haul her up, bending to whisper near her ear. “Sorry, babe. Not tonight.” Disappointment crosses her features, but she nods, and walks away.

A year ago this would have been my favorite way to spend a Saturday night.

Girls? Check.

Drinking? Check.

Raging party with my friends? Double Check.

Not so much anymore. I don’t miss drinking too much and waking up next to someone I can’t remember.

But the main reason this holds no appeal? I was plastered the night I got the call from my dad last semester. I had to wait until morning before attempting the three-hour drive home to see my mom, all pale and gray in that hospital bed. After spending a tortured night, shattered without any way to fix it, drinking becomes a far less important priority.

My best friend Trey leans over. “Damn man, you don’t even have to try. It’s like you set off some radar that attracts them. Come. Fuck. Me,” he says in a robotic voice.

I shove his shoulder. “Shut up, you know it’s not my fault.”

“No, the superior genetics bred into you by the Congressman and the MILF ensure you get ass easily and often.” He shakes his head. “Fucking lucky bastard.”

I chuckle, brushing off his comment. The truth is I didn’t ask for the attention, and I rarely sleep around anymore. But I’d earned my reputation during my freshman and sophomore years banging pretty much every girl in sight. And now I don’t do much to dispel the rumors. It’s nice, though, not be on the outs with one guy or another in the house because of whose girlfriend or sister I’d slept with. I’m actually enjoying the reprieve.

I look up and spot a pretty dark-haired girl in the corner. She isn’t dressed like the other girls here – meaning her tits and ass aren’t on display—and strangely it makes her even more attractive. Her eyes widen and she forces a smile. It’s obvious this isn’t her scene.

I take comfort knowing I’m not the only one faking it tonight. She’s not the type of girl the old me would’ve bothered with. Meaning her panties aren’t ready to drop to her knees at my command. But somehow that only makes me more interested. She tugs at the hem of her pink shirt, looking ready to flee.

“Just wanted to warn you…Stacia’s here and was looking for you earlier,” Trey says.

Shit fuck. “Just what I wanted to deal with tonight. Drunk Stacia.” Sloppy Stacia, crying Stacia, horny Stacia, take your pick. She’s usually at least one, if not all of the above.

broken up

good this time,” I

raises his glass in a mock

that girl. We dated for a year. Why? I couldn’t tell you. I never liked her personality, but I did like her body. Still do, if I’m being honest. And she always

only rooms we keep unlocked during parties. And the line for the bathroom is too long, so she couldn’t have gone in there. Considering her friends are still dancing in the center of the living room, spilling beer onto

a sliver and she’s facing away from me, sitting on the bottom step. Reddish-brown hair cascades over her shoulders, falling nearly to her

whatever she’d like. A testament I currently share, looking at this pretty little thing in front

I’m expecting. She seems mildly annoyed…bothered

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” I take a step

you planning on trying something? Because

her scream, but somehow I know she’s not looking for me to be that guy. It’s refreshing. I move closer to her into the

I join you?” I

girl said no to me. She chews on her lip, trying to read me, then clasps her hands together in her lap. “You can stay, if

has major trust issues, or she’s caught wind of my

narrow slightly. “Ha, ha,” she says dryly.

doing out here with her. This girl is sure as fuck too sweet for me to mess around with. But I know that

my hand toward her.

no move to

just call you Whistle if you don’t tell me

shoulders. “If you’re trying to pick me up, save us both the time.

aren’t you, Whistle? I

a

name is pretty, and unique – just like her. Her makeup is natural, subtle compared

haven’t seen

typically come to

but doesn’t drink from it. It’s like she needs something to do with her hands. I know the feeling. I feel oddly clumsy and unsure around her

she doesn’t come to frat parties. It’s clear this isn’t her scene. “Do