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

his glass in a mock salute. “Stay

way is up with 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 shared that with me freely. But hanging out, listening to her talk about inconsequential bullshit… gah, even the sound of

her, I lean back against the wall so I can see into the kitchen. People fill pretty much every square inch of the kitchen, living and dining rooms – the 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

Reddish-brown hair cascades over her shoulders, falling nearly to her waist and blending in against the dark sky. Her

testament I currently share, looking at this pretty

catches my eyes. Her expression isn’t the reaction I’m expecting. She seems mildly annoyed…bothered by my presence. It’s not the

be out here alone.” I take a

something? Because I can scream really

her sexy ass in my bed to see exactly how loud I could make 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 cool night air, relieved that I

I join you?” I

wonder if she’s going to say no. I can’t remember the last time a girl said no to me. She chews on her lip,

or she’s caught wind of my reputation. “Do you have mace on you? Maybe a rape whistle tucked

“Ha,

what the hell I’m doing out here with her. This girl is sure as fuck too sweet for me to mess around with. But I know that isn’t what I want tonight. If

extend my hand

no move to give me hers.

call you Whistle if you don’t tell

as she straightens her shoulders. “If you’re trying to pick me up, save us

yourself, aren’t you, Whistle? I wasn’t going to ask you out, but your little speech was cute.”

fixes her mouth in a tight line.

Her makeup is natural, subtle compared to the high sheen gloss of the blond’s lips

seen you here

I don’t typically

of beer, 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

why she doesn’t come to frat parties.