When she gets home, she doesn’t want to make dinner because it will take time and time is what she wants to waste on her couch watching TV or taking a long shower. But she has homework and her relaxation time will have to wait. She’ll periodically take from her shelf the poems of Sylvia Plath. She doesn’t want to be bothered but her roommates storm her room at 10 and it is a Thursday night and what on earth is she doing on a Thursday night, studying of all things? So they drag her from her desk and force her to wear a dress and put on make-up which she rarely does. She doesn’t quite like the way she looks but by that time her roommates are pulling her arm through the door, which she locks, waiting for the click that will allow her to leave her room without qualms.
They enter a frat five blocks away. Inside it smells of beer and sweat, but already there is a line of eager teenage boys trying to get in. She gets offered a beer, but she refuses. There is a pool table. Her friend hands her a drink, and tells her to sip. She does. It doesn’t go down very well. She puts the drink on a piano, struggling to do so because of the sweaty bodies rubbing against each other and taking up too much space. She's in a dance circle with a few of her friends but soon a guy she does not know creeps behind her, putting his hands on her hips. Normally, she would oblige like everyone else, but she doesn’t know him and he smells sweaty and of alcohol. The music is hammering her eardrums in but no one complains and she doesn’t want to be the one to make her friends leave with her. She doesn’t feel very enthusiastic about dancing, and doesn’t feel at all connected to her limbs. She feels something wet by her foot. She’s a little quiet, not making outbursts of happiness at every familiar song she hears. In the other corner she looks over to see Joshua having what looks like an enjoyable time with his friends. He seems to have taken the advice of live every moment to its fullest. At one point she catches his eye and he catches his, but it is fleeting and instantaneous. Nothing could come out of it. But it was a surreal, emotional connection. She felt the emotion they both felt—insecurity. For they were both hundreds of miles away from home, and having fun on a Thursday night because they were supposed to have fun on a Thursday night.
It is at all alright and acceptable, however. She hasn’t even had a drink. She wants to talk to him but they are again moving to another frat. This one’s a lot quieter and smaller, which means it is even more crowded. A boy stares at her from the other side of the room. She diverts her glance but soon he is looking at her again from another direction. He isn’t walking any closer to her, so he is either very shy or strange or both. It smells like marijuana and hookah, and she just wants some fresh air so she walks outside. There are a few people sitting down and drinking. There is no one she knows and she feels a little alone. So she looks at her phone, scrolling down her contact list for someone to talk to. She has an inkling to call him, Joshua, for no apparent reason.
Before she can do anything, however, her dad is calling and she doesn’t want the loud music of the party filtering through the phone. He probably expects her to be sleeping, or at least studying. She feels guilty for having her parents pay for college so she walks behind the house to take the call.
“Hey Hana, what are you doing? You’re not at a party, by any chance?”
She didn’t want to lie. “Well, my roommates sort of dragged me out of the dorm. I’m not really doing anything, just waiting for them to finish so we can go home.”
“I see. Well don’t stay out too late. And call your grandmother. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
A weight drops from her shoulders as her father hangs up.
One of her roommates with frazzled hair approaches her with a hand motion signifying that she is leaving. Except this roommate is disoriented and doesn’t know the way to the dorm. Sarah and she practically carry her, catching her underarms over their shoulders. As they get to their floor, she-who-has-had-too-much-to-drink rushes to the trashcan, exposing the mostly liquid contents of her stomach. Hana pats her back. It's gonna be fine. A mountain of tissues will do. Tomorrow, they will wake up forgetful of the experience.
She cries a little bit—that is, Hana—in her bed, having fulfilled none of her expectations. Worst of all, it was as though she had no one to share her feelings with—her roommates were the ones responsible. In a way, they were the victims of the night. They would wake up with hangovers tomorrow. But Hana would be no happier. She dialed the number that she should have hours ago.
“Hey.”
“Sorry, it’s late. I..”
“Just wanted to talk? It’s okay. I was always meaning to call you one of these days. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I saw you at DTY.”
“I thought it might’ve been you, but I couldn’t see very well in the dark. Sorry for not saying hi.”
“It’s fine. Did you have fun?”
“Yeah, I think. I don’t know. I just try to have fun for the sake of my friends. I just see them having fun, and I think, why not? So even if it is a little forced, I feel like it’s enjoyable.”
“I feel the same way, but tonight I wasn’t really able to…unwind.”
“I think it’s a little bit of an act, a pretense to say that everyone who’s there is having fun. Sometimes you go to enough of these like me and you end up believing it.”
“I wish I didn’t have to feel so inadequate. I feel out of place, like I’m thinking about it too much and I should just be having fun.”
“The way I see it, we’re kind of trapped here for the time being. So either it’s take the hard road and resist all the pressures, or sort of go halfway like me and enjoy the ride.”
“You know, you’re one of the few people I can talk to like this. You’re so real and you’re not afraid to show it.”
“I suppose.”
“Hey, do you want to get lunch tomorrow?”
“Sure! What time?”
“I don’t know, around 12?”
“Great—that’s when I get out of class.”
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