Read part 1 of this story.

Orientation went on, much in the way that you’d expect. Here’s how campus is laid out, here are the dining facilities. These are the ground rules, please call campus security if you’re with someone passed out drunk. These are our big campus events, this is how to get to your classes. Nat and Donnie both, along with hundreds of others, were being shepherded between meals, seminars, professorial intros and social icebreakers, with everything slowly leading up to next week when classes started and the blinders were taken off. In theory.

Wednesday night, after another dining hall meal with floormates she was just starting to remember the names of, Nat was in her room. She had gotten a copy of the campus map like everyone else at the big welcome session on Monday, but it was now pinned to her bulletin board with the dorm demarcated with a small sticky note that said ‘You Are Here’. She knew that the campus would eventually become second nature, like all the hallways of her high school did after four years. At the moment, though, and especially because they were just following orientation leaders from place to place, it still seemed a bit alien. The map was one tactic to manage that anxiety, make everything feel just a little more figure-out-able.

There was a light knock on her door; it was Donnie. The two had spent more time together over the last few days and, while Nat wouldn’t describe them as ‘fast friends’, Donnie put her at ease in a way that most of her floormates did not. She was surrounded by smart, ambitious people, and it was making her anxiety about school starting worse. Donnie, somehow, seemed to let all of the drive and emergent competitiveness just flow over him, like water off a duck. While Nat’s roommate and some of the other girls she had started hanging out with a bit talked about writing contests and GPAs and which professors had good reputations, Donnie told nerdy jokes, talked about RPGs, and was content to chat about high school. Donnie and Nat were clearly different, and that made Nat more comfortable. That difference, though, was about to very plainly walk through her door.

“Glad I found you!” Donnie said. “I ran into a member of one of the gaming clubs who came back to campus today. He said that the club is throwing their annual ‘Choose Your Character’ party and gave me the address. Would you want to come with me?”

“A party?” Nat said. “Like with alcohol, party?” Donnie raised an eyebrow.

“What other kind of party is there?” he said.

“I mean, right,” Nat said. “I didn’t really, um, drink or anything in high school. Not sure if I feel comfortable with this before classes even started.”

“I mean, before classes start seems like the perfect time,” Donnie said. “Wait. You didn’t drink at all?”

“I went to one party with my friend Marissa and I guess I tried a beer?” she said. “But no, it wasn’t really my thing. It was a private school so the dorms were really strict and the commuters didn’t really live that close.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Donnie said. “Even if I had to drive across town for a party it was like ten minutes. Still. You’re here! At college! Now’s the time for new experiences.”

“Maybe,” Nat said. She avoided eye contact for a moment and looked over the arrangement of her desk.

“You don’t seem like the kind of person who’s just going to start downing shots the minute they’re put in front of you,” Donnie said. “You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nat said. “Who else have you invited to this illicit nerd party?”

“Uh, no one,” Donnie said. “Just you.” They looked at each other briefly. Donnie made an excuse to go back up the hall, and Nat looked back at her bulletin board, wondering what she’d just gotten herself into.

When Friday night came around, the whole dorm was getting ready to go out. Formal orientation had ended with convocation that afternoon, and for the first time everyone was free. That was exactly why nearly every student organization tried to throw a party that night, though they couldn’t admit they were all trying to recruit underage freshmen. Nonetheless, there was a scene for everyone, and when Nat got back to the dorm from a quiet dinner alone there was a cacophony of people getting ready. She didn’t really know what to wear to an ‘illicit nerd party’, but it seemed like an appropriate time to get decked out a bit. She opened her ‘Hot Topic drawer’, all the goth wear her mother badgered her about wearing. She was warned that ‘no one would take her seriously’ if she wore too much black or anything actually interesting, but that hardly seemed like a problem now. After all, she was here, at school; she had made it. And even more important than her being at school was that her mother wasn’t.

The outfit she picked before heading to Donnie’s room wasn’t particularly out there, though she did decide to piss off the version of her mother living in her head with a skirt and some stockings. Nonetheless, Donnie did a bit of a double take when she was at the door.

“Oh hey,” he said. “I…I feel like I’m underdressed now.” She blushed slightly.

“I just wanted a chance to dress up now that I’m not in my parents’ house,” Nat said. “I think you’ll be able to match my energy so long as you neither have any visible stains nor a popped collar.”

“Popped collar? What kind of kid from a rich Massachusetts town do you take me for?” Donnie said. Nat laugh-snorted, and Donnie smiled. It was seeming like the night would be all right.

They walked maybe half a mile off campus, and spotted the house pretty quickly. A short guy in cargo pants and a hoodie was standing outside the door, armed with a clipboard and a marker. There were a few people milling around, and one by one the short guy checked their IDs and let them in. Nat and Donnie walked up to the door.

“Hey guys,” the short guy said. “Here for ‘Choose Your Character’?”

“Yeah,” Donnie said.

“Cool, cool. Just need to see your IDs,” the short guy said. Donnie and Nat looked at each other. Not knowing what else to do, Nat handed over her driver’s license.

“Ah, cool cool,” the short guy said. “New frosh? Welcome. I do have to mark you. You know, the law and all.” He reached for her right hand, which she gave, and wrote a big black ‘X’ in marker on her hand. Donnie looked like he had been caught cheating, but sighed and gave his ID. The short guy marked his hand too. After marking both of them, he glanced up the street, then down the street.

“Just so you know, we’re really big into hygiene in our house,” the short guy said. “There’s a bathroom on the first floor, and you should go wash your hands as soon as you get in.”

“Huh?” Donnie said. The short guy wagged the marker at him.

“Wash your hands, Donald!” He kept wagging but turned to Nat and winked. She could now see he was wagging a Crayola washable magic marker, and immediately understood what was going on.

The house was surprisingly packed considering how little could be heard from the outside. The living room had a gaggle of people milling about with a projector playing some sort of video game in the background. The kitchen, off to the back of the house, had bottles of liquor across the island and coolers full of beer on the ground; it also appeared like this was where at least a couple of the house’s residents were posted to keep watch over any shenanigans. There were signs pointing towards the basement, with more noise coming up the stairwell, and while there was no party space on the second floor, people kept filtering up there anyway.

Donnie and Nat both took turns washing their hands and then headed to the kitchen. Donnie went straight for one of the coolers of beer, but Nat hesitated. She wasn’t lying about only trying a beer with Marissa that one time, but she had left out the fact that she decided it was too gross for her after one sip. She eyed the bottles of liquor on the table, as well as the more familiar looking sodas on the other side.

“You look miserable,” said a girl standing across the island. Nat looked up with a start.

“I’m not! Honest,” Nat said. “I just…well…”

“You missed a little smudge on your hand, there,” the girl said. She was a good half foot taller than Nat, almost Donnie’s height, wearing a jean jacket over a red shirt and some sort of shiny black pants. Nat furiously rubbed the last bit of marker off, trying to pretend she was doing something else. The girl chuckled.

“I’m Claire,” she said.

“Nat,” Nat replied.

“Nat, are you against drinking?” Claire asked.

“No,” Nat said. “I just haven’t done it much.”

“Or ever,” Claire said, smirking. Nat blushed.

“Fine, or ever,” Nat said. Claire grabbed a bottle of Bacardi off the island and poured a healthy splash into the bottom of the red Solo cup Nat had grabbed off the counter. Then she filled the glass the rest of the way with Coke.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Claire said. “And a word of advice, don’t add more rum when it’s halfway full. You’ll lose track. Finish the whole cup, see how you’re feeling, then make another one.”

“Uh, thanks,” Nat said. “I didn’t really think about that. Are you in this club?”

“Yup!” Claire said. “Used to be a token girl, but they’ve gotten way better about that since my freshman year. We could still use more, though. You play D&D?”

“Um,” Nat said.

“What?” Claire said. “Did I go too nerdy on you?”

“No, I…” Nat trailed off. “…I ran games all through high school but I didn’t like D&D. Mostly played other systems.”

“Oh ho,” Claire said. “We do need to get you to join. For now, though, you should probably find the boy you came in with.” Nat swung around, and indeed Donnie was nowhere to be found.

Nat made her way through the house, sipping at her drink as she went. It mostly just tasted like Coke, and embarrassingly she was getting a little burpy like she did the few times they were allowed to have soda at home. Thinking about that, about not having soda in high school let alone alcohol, made her feel suddenly self-conscious. She drank the drink faster. Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder.

“Nat!” Donnie said. “I thought you were right behind me! I’m sorry I lost you.”

“It’s okay,” Nat said. “I had a small crisis in the kitchen.”

“You all right?” Donnie asked.

“I just didn’t know what to drink,” Nat said. “I guess I have a rum and coke now.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Donnie said. “The beer isn’t that bad. Actually, reminds me of a joke.”

“The beer does?” Nat asked.

“Yeah,” Donnie said. “What does a PBR and sex in a canoe have in common?”

“…What,” Nat said.

“They’re both fucking close to water,” Donnie said, grinning.

“You may have already had too many of those,” Nat said, shoving him playfully. Donnie shook his head, still laughing a little. Again, there was a hand on Nat’s shoulder, this time grabbing her a little more firmly. She turned around. It was Claire.

“Hey frosh, you want to play beer pong?” she asked. She looked over at Donnie.

“You can come too, I guess,” she said.