The Patient Sikh: Part Thirty-Two--The Frat Party

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Jun 6

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This an excerpt from a novel in progress and a work of fiction.

Tiffany has this song, that goes something like, “What will I do now with all this time?” That’s the question, isn’t it? I used to spend an excessive amount of time thinking about Sonny. I saw him now and then, but it was mostly a mental thing for me.

I don’t what I’m supposed to do now? Study? Don’t be ridiculous. OK, so I am failing Statistics 101, but whatever. It’s hard and I don’t want to do it. I should date other guys. But where am I going to find other guys who want to date me?

Maybe I should go to a frat party! Yeah, that sounds great. So I call Sarita and ask her if she wants to go to a frat party with me. “Ahh, how ‘bout hell no!”

OK, that was her response. Perhaps she is not the ideal candidate to go with me. The only person I know who would go to a fraternity party is my roommate and I can’t stand her. Whatever, I’ll go by myself. Well, OK, maybe not. I don’t know anyone in a sorority.

But wait, I do know someone who seems like she should be in a sorority. Mona. I’ll call her. So I call her and set it up, of course, she has many friends in sororities and finds us the perfect frat party to go to on Saturday night.

The real question is, what am I going to wear? I could wear these awesome new bell bottom jeans I got. Sarita said they are too tight at the top, but she’s kind of conservative. I think they make my ass look great.

So it’s Saturday night and Mona comes to my dorm room. She confirms that the jeans make my ass look brilliant. My roommate is staring at us as we swig from a bottle of rum. She’s never seen me drink before, I’ve never really drunk much before, to be honest.

I don’t know what I’m doing, I want to be this new woman. This cool person. This chick who goes to rad parties and drinks it up. The girl who meets the hot guys.

Let’s be clear, I am not naturally that girl. Mona is. I stare at her orange top with brown pants, she looks stunning as usual. Her hair is straight and long and perfect. I am very happy when people think we look like twins, I’m very flattered but I think she’s prettier than I am. At the very least, she’s hotter than I am. She also has a bigger chest.

So we are laughing as we walk down the diag in the middle of the University of Michigan. We are giggling more than usual probably because of the rum. She mixed it with pineapple juice, but there was a lot more rum in it. I drank it without any protest because I wanted to look cool.

So we get to the outside of this frat house and this drunk dude comes up to us. “Hey ladies!” he shouts at us. We ignore him.

“You think just because you are hot you can be bitches. Fuck you!” he yells at us. I mean he did say we were hot, so there’s that.

So we walk into this old mansion that has been converted into a fraternity house. It smells strongly of beer. This blond guy walks past us and offers Mona a drink. She takes it then he looks over at me. “Wow, twins! That’s so rad!”

“Yeah,” Mona says, not correcting him.

“So are you guys like a package deal?” he asks and moves a hair away from Mona’s face.

“Not really,” Mona says in a flirty voice. I notice her brown leather high-heel boots and wonder if I will ever be as cool as her. She just knows how to chill with guys. I realize I want to be her. I realize I’m envious of her because nothing comes out of my mouth as two of his friends come around. I am frozen, I can’t speak. But Mona’s laughing and joking and she’s the coolest girl in the room. I am just her sidekick and I am OK with that.

One of the guys looks over at me, “Does she speak?” he asks and laughs.

“Yeah, she’s a good friend of mine,” Mona says and takes a swig of beer.

“You guys are friends? I thought you were sisters for sure,” he says and looks me up and down. I feel slightly uncomfortable as he looks at me like that. Two tall blond women come around from the back of me and start screaming, “Mona!”

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I look at the beer in my hands. I hate beer. And all of a sudden, next to these blond girls, I feel very brown. Again, Mona is chatting away and I’m just standing there staring into space.

Where am I?

“Let’s dance,” Mona says and pulls on my shoulder.

I am very hesitant when I look over at all the drunk people on the dance floor. I’m not really sure about my ability to dance. Mona, of course, is dancing like she is an exotic dancer. She waves at me to come towards her. So I walk over but I’m still not dancing.

“C’ mon!” she yells over the music. I try to move my body, but it seems very robotic to me. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it seems like Mona absolutely does. I sway my hips back and forth and this seems to please Mona, so I move my hands a little in the air…

nina

If you would like to read the beginning of this novel in progress, The Patient Sikh, visit the following links in chronological order:

The Patient Sikh: Part One

The Patient Sikh: Part Two–The Wonder Years

The Patient Sikh: Part Three–Sonny

The Patient Sikh: Part Four–Song Lyrics

The Patient Sikh: Part Five–Your Song

The Patient Sikh: Part Six–Coffee Talk

The Patient Sikh: Part Seven–Chocolate Covered Love

The Patient Sikh: Part Eight–Kiss And Tell

The Patient Sikh: Part Nine–Street Chess

The Patient Sikh: Part Ten–Ravi