Page 13 of Don't Puck Him

Bam! A fist the size of a grizzly bear smashes into my right cheek. That drunken fool gets lucky. I fall to the grass. I see stars. No time for that shit. I rocket up and hit him with a right cross. Footballers are big, but hockey players know how to fight. Drew goes down, first listing forty-five degrees, then slamming into the grass like the Leaning Tower of Pisa has suffered one inch too many.

“Get up, you piece of shit! C’mon! You wanna take on someone tonight? Here I am!”

I shove Wren toward the front yard so she can escape as I lean over and yell in the face of this colossal man-beast. All I get back are fluttering eyelashes and several groans. Then Drew… oh my God. The freak passes out. He literally falls asleep! Unbelievable.

I kick his shin as a parting favor and walk off toward Wren. By the time I reach the front yard, she’s nowhere to be seen. I figure she’s run back to the dorm. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s where she belongs. At least for tonight.

I put my hands on my hips and say under my breath. “That dumb broad. What the hell was she thinking?”

Cash sees me and comes jogging up. “Hey, man, where you been? Here’s your beer.”

I shrug my shoulders. I’m going to lie. It’s for the best, for now.

“Hey, man, just like you said. Beer makes me piss like a whale. C’mon, let's party, man!”

I throw an arm around Cash, and we walk towards the keg table where the line-up of students to get a taste is snaking down the opposite end of the street and around the corner.

I assume by Cash’s demeanor that he didn’t lay eyes on Wren. Just as well. I’m not sure how any of this would have gone down if Cash knew about Drew and her. And I need time to digest this drama myself.

I get Cash’s side. But I keep an eye down the other end of the street. It's empty. But I’m looking for her. I can’t lie to myself. There’s care and concern in me now for this Wren chick. I start to wonder who caught who with what fishing lure the other night?

I don’t like the feeling of being out of control. Fuck her. Fuck Cash. Hey, fuck’em all. Fuck Drew for guzzling his weight in beer. Fuck this drama that has stolen my party mood.

I holler. “Fuck’em all! Where’s my lawn buddy?”

Everyone laughs as they watch me drop and roll to the lawn ornament, where I give my old cement buddy a big smack on his chipped lips. Somebody hands me another cup, and I guzzle it down.

I wipe the head off my lips with the back of my arm and flash a contented smile.

Cash stumbles over. He’s had his fill of beer, that’s for sure.

“Hey, man, what were you sayin’ before? Something about this year being the best. Hell yeah! Here’s to the best hockey year yet at Boston College. Oorah!”

I toast with my empty cup. Then I remember.

Dad says it’s unlucky to toast with an empty cup.

Meh. Fuck, dad, too! “Fuck’em all! Oorah!”

Cash and I spend the rest of the night swigging beer, talking hockey, and slowly watching the sun come up on the front lawn of the frat house.

For the time when Cash temporarily passes out, I lay back and look up at the stars. It’s a moonless night, but the stars are out by the millions.

The grass feels cool to my back, and the world is still. Most of the partygoers are gone or passed out, too. The place is littered with discarded red plastic cups, flicked cigarette butts, and even a few pairs of underwear from God knows who doing God knows what.

I smile at the mess surrounding me. But my gaze soon returns to the stars. And my thoughts, surprisingly, turn to Wren.

Helpless idiot? A beauty who needs protection? A just-bloomed flower needing care and attention from her man?

I don’t know. But I can’t say I don’t care.

I look over at Cash. My bud is snoring up a storm. The look on his face is contentment.

Man, I don’t want to rock any boats here. The year has only begun. But there’s something about that girl. Sheneeds. I can feel it in my bones. She needs. And I know how to satisfy her need.

It’s inherent in girls like her. To partner equally is never enough. And there are so few men around who are emotionally equipped to identify that craving and know what to do to satisfy it.

Sweat beads pop. My heart races. I know this feeling in me.She needs a man like me.