College was the magical place where I'd finally get to be the person I wanted to be. By all counts of my opinion, I wasn't making very fast progress by the time I met Jade. I was sick of my roommate who took all early classes and was majoring in business, and of Fred, who seemed to have a crush on my roommate, but was just fucked up enough to attract my attention. Fred was from Menominee. I can't remember how I wound up spending a weekend there with him, but I do remember how dejected I felt when a guy I didn't like very much wouldn't have sex with me. I thought he was an oaf. I think I was sleeping in the top bunk of his nephew's bedroom that weekend.
Near the end of our first month in school I met Jade. As I remember it, I bumped into her in the hallway outside our rooms. She shared the room next to mine with a lithe, thick-blonde haired, dancer named Nikki. Nikki was one of those girls I envied immediately and to such a degree that I couldn't look at her. Around Nikki, I felt like an oaf. The events of the day on which I met Jade, and the week that followed, run together like a dream. Within the week we had convinced our roommates to live with each other. On moving day we got so high, and I laughed so hard, that I said I couldn't move my arms. We sat on her twin bed eating crackers and peanut-butter, our strewn furniture turning our 12 x 12 cinderblock room into an unwinnable maze.
Jade broke up with her boyfriend of two years in the spring. He lived in the dorm across the lawn from us, next to Matt. It seemed like she was immediately hooked up with the lead singer of a popular band in town. When she came home in the morning she told me about their sex, his giant cock, and his soft lips. She stood in front of the crowd at the bar we'd snuck into singing all the words to "Whipping Post" and dancing in her way. He'd lean down to her from stage. I was frozen somewhere, watching. I was trying to pretend I was the only one in the room when I danced. I was trying to look like I was having the time of my life.
My only sex freshman year were the two failed attempts with Matt, and the last fuck with my ex-boyfriend from highschool, at the beginning of Christmas break. After I sent him off that December, I imagined I saw him sitting in his car at the end of my driveway. I imagined he was crying. I called Paul and told him what a bitch or slut I was and told him to come over so we could get high and meet up with the rest of the guys.