Passages — Chapter 3

Burning Goldschlagger...L-Bombs and Roman Helmets...Comedown with Skinny Vinnie...Venkat's surprise from the freezer

Cal and the other girl were climbing up the stairs, utterly failing because of the intense kissing session, they staggered back and forth onto the second floor.

"You taste like goldschlagger."

"Haha," replied, the girl. "I actually got some, you wanna drink it?"

"Yeah, let's go."

They walked into someone's room and she pulled out a bottle of Goldschlagger and put it on the coffee table. Cal found two shot glasses on a ledge, dusted them off and sat down on the flea bag someone considers their couch.

She poured the alcohol and they raised the shots.

"Salut," said Cal.

"Cheers!"

They drank the glittering liquor and took deep breaths while putting down the shot glasses. The firewater instantly made them feel warm and their insides tingled with numbing delight and anticipation.

"Mmm, that was really good."

"Let's have another."

This time Cal raised the bottle and poured two more. "This is my favorite because I like the taste of cinamon," she said.

"I like it because it's stronger and it's a good drunk." He pulled out a shiny golden Zippo and showed it to her. It said Goldschlagger in those olde style letters. "Nice!" She played around with it, opening and snapping the cover shut, then flicking it open again with her thumb. Cal pulled out his smokes and offered one to her. She took two out of the pack, puckered her lips and lit both with the lighter. He took one out of her hand and puffed on it.

Then, he said, "that looked sexy."

She smiled, then said, "thanks."

He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they embraced. They kissed for a while then pulled back to put the cigarrettes out and get naked. She started pulling Cal's pants off while his hands slid up her back to the braw clasp. Once the pants and braw were loosened, she pulled off her shirt and he slid down the pants. Then she straddled the author and leaned her bare chest in his face. He pulled her in tighter and closer into the couch.

Cal pulled up her skirt, found no underwear, while kissing and feeling her up, he slowly penetrated her until all her moist softness surrounded him. She bounced up and down this way for a while until her legs got tired and they went horizontal. She was getting intensely wild and held on really tight. While fucking her and kissing her and they sweated together he felt on the side of his face something and noticed it was dark. He leaned back away from her to notice her mascara was running and realized she was beginning to cry. He craddled her head in his arms while jackhammering her like a train piston, he muttered, "what's the matter?"

She looked away, slightly turned her head but didn't say anything.

He leveraged her head back toward him with his hand and asked again, "what's the matter?" a few more pumps, "are you ok?"

"It's just that I think," she paused, perhaps for effect perhaps, no it was a slight sob, "I think I love you."

The emergency breaks were activated and the travellers and the baggage and all of it on tilt because she just dropped the L-bomb.

Cal, leaning away now stops and thinks about this. Then proceeds to keep fucking her. "Hey," fuck fuck fuck fuck, "hey, I" fuck fuck fuck, "I like you and everything, but" fuck fuck fuck fuck, "I like you,love (fuck fuck fuck)...?"

She turned her head slightly again and didn't say anything, little black tears falling off her face onto the carpet. You can probably roll the carpet up, light it and get the entire Rutgers basketball team high.

Then, she said, "I knew you wouldn't understand."

Understand what? Cal thought. Understand? I'm too fucked up and drunk to understand anything besides...hey. She stopped pulsating back and pulled him out. Then rolled out from under him into the deepest crevaces this flee bag had to offer and before he could say, hey! she was asleep and he lay there teetering on tilt, on the edge of the couch unsure of what just happened, and the choo-choo train is about to explode and there is no one there; not one soul to witness it! FUCK!!

He looked over to see her face and watched her for a minute as her face slowly dried, her mascara black, blotchy like too much purple watercolor and too much water and her body was still warm from the sex and his mind wasn't made up.

What did he want to do about THIS? He leaned back, almost falling off but managing to grab the smokes out of his jeans pocket, pulled one out and lit it with the Zippo. Further review made this day seem more surreal than previously thought possible. What a crazy fucking day, were the author's thoughts. Then, maybe I should give her the roman helmet.

He pondered this smoking the cigarrette, weighing his options. What did she mean by the part about not understanding. Why was she crying? These things perplexed him. At the same time, he wasn't finished and this bothered him as well. He started going soft but decided it would be better to get done with it so he got up, put the cigarrette out and started stroking himself while looking at her mostly naked body to excite himself.

He was almost there and poised to shoot his load all over her when two frat boys come barging into the room. "Fuck!" He thought she locked the door while he was looking for the shot glasses.

He stood there for a moment, they stood there for a moment. It wasn't a long pause but it felt long. Then one of the guys said, "What the fuck are you doing, bro?"

"Shit man, this bitch passed on me while we were fucking and I couldn't just stop!"

"Get the fuck out of here!" He looked over to the couch to see who the girl was. His face froze for a second then he started laughing.

"You Cal?" Cal was trying to get his clothes on with great difficulty, stumbling and falling on the couch into the girl who sadly just kept sleeping.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I'm John," he pointed to the other guy, "This is Brian." Then, he motioned somewhere outside the room. "I ran into Vik downstairs, he said you were somewhere around with Jamie's pledge sister." He paused to let it sink in and gave a knowing smile to Brian, then he laughed again to himself.

This made Cal pause with realization, then he continued putting on his clothes. After getting dressed, he said thanks to John for the party and that he had a good time but had to go.

Before he left the room, John asked, "Yo how'd it feel?"

"What do you mean?"

"Before tonight, she WAS a virgin." Then, that knowing smile.

He closed the door behind him and left to go find Vik, his crotch still sore and his mind warped with confusion.

Downstairs, the party was thinning and it wasn't too difficult to find Vik. He was still hanging out with Jamie and a few other people. Cal walked over to him and lit a cigarrette. After a few minutes they decided to head back.

Rambling home, Vik and Cal talked about the girl and the party and jail all the way through a late night snack at Skinny Vinnie's Pizza and down to Venkats house where they passed out on the gritty living room floor.

In the morning, the night still lingered in their skulls and it reflected in their eyes. Venkat came downstairs and said, "Wassup guys!" Then he lightly laughed and walked into the kitchen to get some water.

He walked back into the living with a filter full of water, some cups and a frosty looking bag with a small piece of paper inside. "Look what I got from the freezer, he-he-he," goes Venkat. He put down the water and cups, then pulled out the paper to show Vik, Cal and Dave. Then he broke off a tiny slip and put it on his tongue. He ripped off a few more pieces and handed them out to the rest of the guys.

They went outside and drank water and smoked some cigarrettes. Dave says, "Let's go to 'Hole in the Wall,' I need to eat something before this trip starts."

Vik, rubbing his temples, replies with a no. He offered some money if Dave decided to go. Dave tried to convince the author to come along and get some breakfast sandwiches, but he wasn't having any of it. Venkat offered to make some hotdogs. It wasn't much though it was something. After chucking their butts to the street, they went back in and made hotdogs in the microwave.

a whole half

sample the tip of this extract.

there are vulgar niceties flirting across thick air.
with seiger working and practicing, the chatter dances around.
simple, jovial banter and backdrops of despair.

globs of nacho flavored opinion drip and drool from orifaces.
teethy teethy grins shadow this so real grind and resign.

boys against girls
young against old
red sox against the yankees!

who will laugh last?
will this pen permiate the facade?
will they notice and wonder of furious scribble?

drafts and drunken snarls
i am poised to jump at anything
with shake and a studder
bounce and rattle.

these benign opinions.

but, my malignant perspective -> ultimately isolating

he doesn't
she doesn't
they don't
want to peel the crusty scab to look at the festering issue beneath

ok sport,
let it slide....

open your angst into a container

and fertilize