That Which is Unexpected Page 2
Chapter 1: Pinch Me
Usually, I'm not the party going type.
Usually.
That is unless my best friend Jason drags my ass out of our apartment. He tells me about a party that he got invited to by some sorority chick that is in his English class. The party is at the girl's friend's house on Lake Washington.
No sooner than I am contemplating going, Jason and I are suddenly there, ringing the doorbell of the house. Sorority chick answers the door and we follow her into the large living room where she introduces us to the hostess, Natasha. Natasha is cute with eastern European features and a great body that is 5’4” and slender, with clear green eyes and blonde curls that stop just above her shoulders. As sorority chick is talking, something about Jason and English class, Natasha can't keep her eyes off me.
Now, I don't consider myself to be an unattractive guy. I'm twenty years old and while I’m not entirely sure what ethnicity I am, my skin is naturally tan and I have the facial structure of a Caucasian male. I’m just over 6'1" and 175 lbs. of toned muscle, but not exactly ripped; straight brown hair, and hazel eyes that are complemented by my long eyelashes. My nose is average size, my cheeks and jawline aren’t exactly chiseled and, much to my fervor, I often get mistaken for being younger than I actually am. At this point some of you may be saying, “Why Cole, it sounds like your features could be described with two words that would compare them to an infantile state,” Yes, I know. Don’t say it. I am completely aware and I can’t stand being described by those two words. Jason has always called it my “Cougar Trap” and gave me the nickname CT. Given that my name is Cole Treyfair, the nickname is entirely appropriate. Only a handful of people know the true meaning behind it. I just thank god for fake identification so that I can follow Jason into bars. Despite the fact that we are the same age, Jason never gets carded… Bastard.
While I may not be unattractive, I have hardly had the luck with women that Jason has, which is understandable if you take into consideration the fact that he looks like a blonde, blue-eyed, 6’4” version of Mark Antony (you know, minus the self-evisceration and before that harpy Cleopatra got a hold on him); i.e. curly hair, sharp regal features, and a face that looks like it was carved from stone. Jason has been my best friend since we were fourteen so I have been around for his entire sexual career, a career that is in the high double digits. He likes to claim that it all started with my uncle’s maid Lupita when he was fourteen and that he “seduced her without so much as a word,” because he doesn’t speak Spanish. ‘Claim’ being the keyword in that sentence as my uncle didn’t have a maid named Lupita. My uncle has only ever had one Hispanic maid named Tia and, as far as I can tell, she only speaks English.
Despite having such a high count, Jason isn’t the, “she was blackout drunk and didn’t know what she was doing so she slept with me,” type of guy. He is more of the “I’m going to walk down the street and steal your girlfriend/wife,” type of guy. Jason always has my back as a wingman, which is why I found it strange that, when he noticed Natasha’s gaze, he desperately dragged out the conversation. Natasha starts leading me out onto the back patio until I hear Jason desperately call out, “Cole, wait!” Natasha stops, slowly turns, and gives Jason a malicious glare.
Natasha and I suddenly appear on a swinging outdoor futon, gazing up at a vast amount of stars with hues of blues and greens that I’ve never seen before. The only sound is that of soothing background music that I can’t quite identify. I feel the warmth of Natasha’s body emanating on my right arm. I turn my head towards her and give her a soft kiss, noticing our lack of clothing in the process. As I start to question it, Natasha kisses me back and I’m strangely overcome with a wave of joy and relief.
“Are you having a nice time?” Natasha slyly asks.
“Yeah, I am,” I reply. “Everything just feels right with you in my arms,”
“Well, I’m glad,” Natasha tells me with a grin, but then her face contorts to a look of concern. “But you know, you can’t run from reality. Despite the things that have happened and even if some really unpleasant things may be in store for you, you can’t run away,”
“What do you mea—” I start to ask when the background music became clearer and I finally hear it.
The song ‘Pinch Me’ by the Barenaked Ladies is playing.
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