February 4, 2000
It all started with a frat party and some guacamole.
It was a normal February night, the first Sigma Alpha Epsilon party of the semester. Although it was the beginning of my second semester of college, I learned quickly that the frat boys at UCLA were all complete dicks. That being said, SAE parties were the place to be, and I was trying that whole not being a hermit in college thing. Not to mention I had Geography with the guy collecting the cup fee so with a little smile and bat of the eyelashes he always gave me the plastic red cup for free.
Feminism: it’s come a long way.
Being at an SAE party was pretty low on my list of ways to spend my Friday night. I was never the kind of girl that enjoyed going to frat parties, or parties in general. I spent most of my free time in the piano practice rooms in the music building. But New Year, new me and all that junk. I promised my best friend Kelly that I’d go to this party because she hates to go alone. It’s stupid, really, because she’s the kind of person that goes to a party and meets twenty new friends before I even finish a beer. I’m the one awkwardly standing in the corner while she’s the girl that manages to fall in love with some stranger she’ll never see again.
As I looked around the crowded house searching for Kelly, I noticed the snack table at the opposite side of the room. The only thing worth keeping me at this party is that snack table. The quality of the snacks will definitely decide my future, if I’ll stay here and suffer through the party or go home at watch reruns of Friends.
“Hey,” a tall guy smiled and started dancing in front of me, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. I know my eyes automatically looked down, but I tried to pass him and continue on my way. “We’re in history together?” he continued, not getting the hint.
I shook my head and nervously straightened out my tank top.
“Biology?” I shook my head again, “I mean, chemistry, cause we got chemistry.”
I unsuccessfully tried to hold back a chuckle, “Third try and you remembered the pickup line. Good job, buddy.”I faked excitement and walked away, hoping he wouldn’t follow me as I left. I’m not used to getting attention from drunk frat boys in their undies. It makes me far more uncomfortable than it should make a well adjusted eighteen year old girl like myself.
I finally made it to the snack table because, well it’s the snack table. Do I really need a reason? I also knew if Kelly wanted to find me she’d check here first. I guess I’ve got quite a reputation, but I’ll take it. I continued looking around the party, there has to be someone I know, and grabbed a chip full of guacamole just as I felt someone pinch my butt. I turned around quickly, “What the fuck?” I shouted, although I was drowned out by the music and the college students grinding against each other in every direction.
This is our future.
I hate frat parties.
I hate college.
I want to go home and watch Boy Meets World.
Of course, I turned my attention back to the only good thing about this party, the guacamole. Just as I grabbed the chip another asshole bumped into me and the guacamole went flying. I swear it was like slow motion, I saw it coming towards me but there was nothing I could do but literally watch as the guacamole flew right into my eye!
My eye began to sting like a jellyfish, I could feel the tears falling down my face. Through blurred vision I managed to lean against the wall and wiped my eyes.
“Are you ok?” a soothing voice asked. He sounded like a normal guy hidden in the sea of obnoxious frat boys, but all I could see through the guacamole tears was a blurry blob.
“Does it look like I’m ok?” I snapped.
“No, that’s why I’m asking” there was a pause before he continued, “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m not crying, you idiot! I have fucking guacamole in my eye!” That was mean. I took a deep breath before I spoke again, “I’m sorry, you’re not an idiot. I just—the guacamole.”
“It’s ok I just—wait. You have what?”
“Guacamole. In my eye. It’s spicy”
“It’s spicy?” he laughed, “Like, you can taste it through your eye?”
I laughed between tears, “Like, it stings. It’s hot. Can you maybe make fun of me later and lead me to the bathroom? I can’t see.”
“Oh, shit. Yeah,” he grabbed onto my arm and pulled me up, leading me slowly through the house, “I’ll just narrate for you, cause there are definitely some things you don’t want to miss going on over here. We’re walking past some really classy girls wearing bikini’s because… we’re at the beach” he spoke sarcastically, “And it’s March. But don’t worry they have stripper shoes too, which will help them out in the nonexistent sand because we’re still not at a beach. Then there’s some cool bros over here wearing speedos because we’re, apparently in Europe, where that’s ok. It’s not even ok in Europe. Maybe in Spain, or Turkey or something. Is Turkey even in Europe? Sorry, I’m getting distracted, we’re almost there. You know, I’ve been to a few frat parties in my day but this one seems to take the cake.”
I laughed and held tightly to the mystery man as he led me through the crowd and moved some people out of the way so I could get to the bathroom, “I hate frat parties.”
“Yeah, I guess I do too,” he answered as he shut the door. “Why the hell are we here?What do you need?”
“An eye wash, do you think they have one of those here?” I felt for the sink and opened my eyes as I tried to stick my head under the faucet.
“Do you think they have a lot of guacamole related incidents?”
I laughed and almost choked on the water falling over my face, “I can’t be the first.”
“Ah, I don’t know. I kinda think you could be,” he chuckled, “Do you need help?”
“I think I’m beyond help.”
“I know we just met, but I may have to agree.”
I finally cleared my eye and looked at the mystery man for the first time, sitting on the edge of the tub. He wore a baseball cap that hid his hair, except for a few blonde curls that were sticking out the sides, “Thank you, you saved my life.”
“Oh yeah?” he chuckled, “You’re welcome. I have a thing about saving those damsels in distress. Also, a thing for girls with guacamole eye.”
“Is that something you look for in a girl?”
“Yeah, all the time. You can’t even imagine how hard it is to find a good girl with guacamole eye.”
“You’re funny,” I smiled, “I’m Mac.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Michael.”
I bit at my lip as I looked him over. He pulled his hat down lower and fixed his dark framed glasses as he looked down at the ground.
I know him from somewhere.
“Did you go to Brentwood?”
He shook his head.
“You go here? Did we have a class together last semester? You look so familiar.”
He shrugged, “Maybe.” A knock on the bathroom door disrupted us, “Yeah, coming. Chill!” he shouted, “So you wanna… continue this conversation outside? It’s gotta be quieter out there, right?”
“Yeah, let’s grab some beer first.”
He grabbed onto my wrist so I wouldn’t get lost and led me through the crowd of drunks dancing before turning quickly and going into the kitchen. The way he opened the refrigerator like he knew what he was doing worried me. He smiled, grabbed a six pack of beer, then grabbed onto my hand and brought me outside.
“Are you… one of them?”
“One of them?” he asked as we stopped at a wooden swing in the back of the yard.
“Sigma Alpha Epsilon,” I mimicked the cheer.
He chuckled before sitting on the swing, “Absolutely not.”
“OK, good. I was worried. What are you studying?”
“Beer,” he answered as he held a bottle out for me.
I grabbed the bottle and took a swig, “I swear I know you from somewhere.”
“I’ve got one of those faces. How’s the eye?”
“It’s fine. Where are you from?”
“Kentucky,” he answered quickly, “So tell me about yourself Mac, Makayla?”
“Mackenzie, but Mac.”
“Mackenzie, from Brentwood,” he teased, “What are you studying? What do you want from life?”
“Well, that’s kind of a loaded question, isn’t it? I’m majoring in piano performance…”
“No way, that’s awesome,” he answered before I could finish.
“…And nursing. With a minor in English Literature.”
“So, you’re an underachiever,” Michael answered with a smile.
“Yeah, super lazy,” I laughed, “I got the me major and the ‘make my parents happy’ major, you know?”
“Sure,” he nodded his head, “You any good?”
“No,”I shook my head, “I’m amazing.”
He chuckled at my honesty, “That’s awesome. Will you play for me some time?”
“Sure.”
“What kind of performance? Classical? Jazz?”
“Classical, but I can do anything.”
“Of course you can,” he smiled as if I told him he just won the lottery“You just keep getting better and better.”
“Do I? Because I pay the piano and have guacamole eye? You have an interesting list of things you’re looking for in a girl.”
He laughed and moved his hand to mine, “Yeah, maybe.”
“But still I know nothing about you, Michael from Kentucky.”
“Have you been playing long? I really want to hear you.” he ignored me.
“I would play for you sometime, but, the thing is, I don't know anything about you, so—“
“You know that I have beer and that I like girls with guacamole eye. What else do you need?”
“I know but… you wear a baseball hat to a frat party. Who wears a baseball hat to a frat party?”
“Michael. From Kentucky.”
I looked at him carefully when it finally hit me. “You don’t look like a Michael.”
“Oh no?”
“No,” I shook my head and grabbed his glasses off his head.
“I really can’t see without my glasses, so—“
“They’re real?” I laughed as I put them on and quickly took them off.
“Of course they’re real, why would I—“
“You don’t look like a Michael,” I repeated, placing his glasses back on his head. “You look more like a… Justin.”
“That’s weird,” he answered softly turning his head away.
“I know, right?” I placed my hand on his lap and waited for him to turn back to me, “Are you in a fucking boyband?”
He coughed back a laugh, “What kind of a question is that?”
“A good one,” I took a sip of my beer, getting more confident, “Do you really think that hat and those glasses hide your true identity?”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered nervously watching the door as a stream of people made their way outside. “Maybe we could… go for a walk?”
I looked around to see we were no longer alone so I nodded my head and stood up, grabbing another beer for the road. “You’re like Clark Kent.”
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around my waist, “that’s a compliment, I’ll take it.”
“It’s not a compliment!”
“Being compared to Superman isn’t a compliment?”
“No. I said Clark Kent, big difference.”
“Clark Kent is Superman.”
“Ah, but Superman is not Clark Kent.”
“Yeah, he is,” he laughed, “that’s the point.”
“No,” I whined, “You don’t get it. Clark Kent has the worst disguise in history and he’s an idiot because he thinks he can get away with it.”
“So I’m an idiot? By the way, Clark Kent did get away with his disguise, that’s the whole point.”
I playfully punched his arm, “My place is right there. Do you want to come in, have some tea and play a board game or something?”
“Yeah,” he smirked, “or something.”
“OK, but the thing is you’re lying to me and I don’t like to be lied to so…” I waited for him to come clean but instead he just looked at the ground. “Clark Kent, my friend.” I placed my arms over his shoulders, “Lie free zone.”
He finally looked up at me and smiled slightly, “You’re so pretty.”
I giggled like an idiot, “And?”
“Beautiful.”
“And?”
“Gorgeous.”
“OK. And?”
“Sexy as hell.”
I laughed and rested my forehead on his shoulder, “I think you’re missing the point. Anything beyond my physical appearance?”
“Smart.”
“Yeah,” I smiled.
“Funny. Interesting,” he smiled, “A good conversationalist.”
I laughed, “Thank you, Clark Kent. That’s so much more fulfilling.”
“You don't like being called beautiful?”
“I mean, all the losers say that, like that’s the only reason they’re talking to the girl.”
“Most girls are happy for that to be the only reason.”
“Well I’m not one of those girls. Don’t be one of those losers.”
He grabbed on to my hands and smiled, “And you’re from Brentwood?”
“Weird, I know,” I laughed, “Can you trust me with your true identity yet?”
He let out a deep breath, but didn’t say anything.
“It’s cool if not, we’ll just call it a night and go our separate ways. It’s been fun, Clark or Michael or whatever you want to be called.”
“That’s not fair.”
“How is it not fair? I’m supposed to just let a random guy that I just met an hour ago into my apartment and I don’t even know his name? That would be stupid.”
“But I saved your life,” he whined.
“And I’m very grateful for that Clark, really I am. But, we’re talking tea and I got the good stuff too. I can’t just hand it out to strangers.”
“What kind you got?” he looked up at me.
“Sleepy Time, and the Berry Zinger one.”
“I love the Berry Zinger one,” he whined again, rubbing his thumbs in my palms.
I shrugged, moved my hands from his, and turned away from him, “Nice to meet you, Clark.”
He grabbed onto my wrist as I walked away and pulled me back to himself, pressing his lips against mine. It may have been the beer, but I felt lightheaded and grabbed onto his shoulders for balance.
“My name is Justin,” he spoke in a whisper.
“Hi Justin,” I answered just as quietly and wrapped my arms over his shoulders, “I’m Mac.”
“Hi Mac,” he chuckled, “I’m in a fucking boyband.”
“How embarrassing.”
“I’d rather that not effect anything between us.”
“Don’t worry I’m not going to stop talking to you just because you’re in a boy band. Nobody is perfect.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“No? I’m going to start talking to you because you are in a boy band?” I spoke out of disbelief.
He smiled, “Yeah, usually for most girls.”
I laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to my door, “I’m not one of those girls.”
“I know.”
I smiled as I unlocked the door, and turned to face Justin before I opened it, “Just, a totally irrelevant question but… how would you feel if I had like, just a couple posters with your face on my wall? Would that be weird? Like, freak you out a little bit or is it cool? Just a couple.”
“You’ve got yourself an interesting sense of humor, Mackenzie.”
