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Mike shouts at me again.
“I’m coming!” I answer back.
When I make it into the kitchen, where Mike and six of my other teammates are, they coax me into shotgunning a beer for old times’ sake. It seems like we did this at every party after a win last year. When we’re finished—Mike smokes us all, like usual—two more shots are shoved into my hands. It proves to be a theme for the night. Teammates and friends want to celebrate my success as much as I do.
For the next two hours, I drink so much alcohol so quickly that my vision becomes hazy and my gait becomes unsteady. It’s a testament to how much I downed in such a short period of time because I can usually hold my liquor. But it’s hard to deny my brothers. Especially when I came here to celebrate.
The blonde from earlier finds me again later in the night. She leads me upstairs to an empty bedroom, and I follow willingly. Everything that happens from that time on is a blur and comes to me in pieces. She takes off her clothes and removes mine. We kiss and touch. She manages to get me hard even though I’m hammered. We have sex, though I can’t remember it all. I wake up sometime in the middle of the night, and she rides me again.
The next morning, I dress quietly and leave the room before she awakens. I still don’t know her name. The house is silent when I walk downstairs, but remnants of the party remain. There’s trash everywhere. Red and blue Solo cups litter every open space, including the floor, some still half full of beer or mixed drinks. My shoes stick to the wood where drinks were spilled last night. A guy I recognize from my Business Ethics class is passed out on the couch.
I walk to the front door, but pause right before leaving to glance around. This was my last official college party. Everything is changing again, in the blink of an eye. There’s something nostalgic about it, even if I’m hungover, sneaking out of the bed of a meaningless hookup, and this place is a mess.
Last night epitomizes my college experience after my breakup with Oakley. I drank until I forgot things I didn’t want to remember or to celebrate the things that I did. I had countless meaningless hookups with women I’d never talk to again. All of it was somewhat empty, if I’m being honest. But somehow, in some small way, it filled a void inside of me, if only for one night at a time. And now, I’m not sure I know how to live any other way.
The door shuts behind me as I walk into the yard. My car is parked at the curb two houses down. I’m not sure how Mike got home last night. Or maybe he’s still upstairs in one of the other bedrooms, sleeping off a night of partying with a stranger, like I did.
The streets are quiet as I drive the short distance home. I hear the murmur of two voices talking in the kitchen when I enter my place.
“Mike, is that you?” Chase’s voice rings out.
I hesitate. Things have been better between Chase and me this fall, but we still aren’t close like we were before everything went down. And I’m pretty sure the other voice in the kitchen is familiar. My ex has become a fixture at the house. It’s awkward sometimes.
“No, it’s Sam,” I say.
Screw it. I walk into the kitchen.
The two of them are the picture of domestic bliss. Chase is in the corner, making coffee, and Oakley is standing at the counter, whisking eggs while wearing one of his T-shirts. It swallows her petite frame and hides her shorts. Her hair is mussed, like she just rolled out of bed. I remember that look. They seem happy. The sight of it used to gut me. Right now, I feel nothing, which is a relief.
“Hey, Sam,” Oakley says with a relaxed smile. It’s obvious she was over us the minute she started dating my roommate. In hindsight, it hurt my pride more than my heart.
“Hey.” I tip my chin.
“You just getting home?” Chase asks.
“Yep.”
“There’s extra coffee if you want a cup,” he offers as the machine percolates.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.
“Congratulations on Anaheim,” Oakley says. She sounds genuine. There was a time when we were together that she would’ve begged me not to leave. “Ollie said the team really needs you.”
Ollie is in Chicago now, killing it for the Hawks. We’ll play against each other at some point.
“Thanks. I’m excited to get there.”
“When do you leave?” Chase asks.
I glance at the clock hanging on the wall near the back door. “My flight is at four.”
“I didn’t realize you were leaving today,” Chase says.
He pours coffee into my mug before filling two other cups for Oak and him. He fixes hers, adding cream and sugar to one, knowing just how she takes it. I never paid attention to little things like that.
Oakley stays here a lot with Chase, or he crashes at her place. They’re rarely apart. She glances over at him with a look of pure love, and I’m glad to see that my chest no longer aches the way it used to at the sight. I guess time really does heal.
“You know how it is, man. They call, and we go running,” I say.
