I can hear Britt’s speakers blasting god awful rap before I get all the way down the walkway of my apartment. I have to lip read her greeting as I slip in the passenger-side door. I turn down the volume and mutter some ‘you owe me’ like response to her protests.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

“No, actually this is just what I put on so my parents wouldn’t see my real outfit.” I’m dressed extremely understated in black jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, Britt, on the other hand, is wearing cut off shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination and a bright pink and orange tank top. Somehow she’s managed to look like a classy slut.

“You could look so pretty is you just . . .”

“Tried to look like you.” I finish sardonically.

“Tried to look like something . . .sometimes I don’t understand you Kel.”

“Good.” I end the conversation by turning up the music again. We drive in silence for about an half hour when I finally relent.

“Can’t take it anymore?” Britt asks referring to the music.

“Where the hell is this party?” I ask ignoring her question. We’ve already driven far off campus, possibly out of the city, and we’re toiling along some pothole-filled road.

“You’ll see, it’s far away.”

“And I suppose this is because the happenings at this party are forbidden and possibly illegal.”

“You think too much.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Britt snorts but then starts laughing.

“I bet you do.” She keeps the music turned down after that and chatters away about boys, classes, and all the other trivial things that fill her head. Britt finally slows to a stop in the grass by a cornfield.

“What the . . . You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No shit sister.” Britt jabs open the door and leads the way through the rows. The same crappy music can be heard. The heady smell of pot and booze already accosts my nose. Girls scream as Britt steps into the clearing. I wonder how they can even understand each other, their shrieks sound like chickens at feeding time to me.

“Kel, come on.” Britts calls to me but doesn’t wait to see if I follow. She’s already had a drink shoved in her hand, a boy against her hip, and a scream on her lips. I meander over to where the drinks appear to be, nothing without alcohol presents itself.

“Hey, pretty girl,” a voice slurs in my ear. This party’s been going on for about ten minutes and people are already drunk. A hand slides along my thigh. I turn to see who has decided the group me at this party. It’s a guy I don’t know, probably a senior, with too blonde hair, and too much stumble in his step.

“Get off.” I mutter but he doesn’t get off, only pushes himself harder against me.

“I want you.”

“Uh, no you don’t.” This isn’t the first time this has happened, drunkenness makes even girls like me look hot, but this is the first time the guy hasn’t lost interest. He grabs my wrist and begins to pull away from the group-oh shit.

“I said fuck off!” But he pins me against a corn stalk and pushes his lips against mine. I curse myself for not staying with Britt. What feels like forever later, he realizes that I’m not kissing him back.

“Bitch.” He tugs at my hair and stumbles a couple yards before passing out. Heart pounding, I race back to the party, surprised that everything seems to be going on like usual. I, however, feel like I’m about to throw up. I dig my phone out of my pocket but am dumbfounded as I look through the numbers. How is it that every friend I’ve managed to rack up is at this party. Moaning I slide the piece of crap back into my back pocket and as I do another piece of paper slides between my fingers. Scratched across it is a number, Ryan’s number. Fumbling my phone I dial quickly.

“‘lo?” He sounds tired.

“Ryan, it’s Kelly.”

“Hi?”

“Listen, I know this is a lot to ask but I’m at the party and I need a ride back.” He agrees to come get me on the condition I get him a drink. I wait, huddled from the cold next the Britt’s car. She had only smiled when I told her I was leaving. A half hour later, a gray ford pierces the air. I hand Ryan his drink as I slide inside.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” I apologize.

“It’s cool, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He shifts into drive, I realize that I’m about let him drink and drive, with me in the car. But to my relief he puts the drink in the cup holder without even tasting it.

“How’d you get over here.”

“My friend Britt.”

“She too drunk to drive.”

“No, I just . . . some guy got too rough and I want to go home.” Ryan slams on the brakes.

“YOU GOT RAPED!”

“No, I didn’t mean that, he, uh, passed out , but I still didn’t want to be there.” Ryan got the car moving again but his hands were shaking slightly.

“Jesus Kelly, don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry.” We drove in silence for a while. I bent my head back to see the stars dance across the sky.

“Kill?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened, have you always been this cynical?” Talk about random questions but I think for a while. I used to believe in true love. I used to lay awake at night and picture him. He’d be dark haired, blue eyed, plain like me. He wouldn’t care that my hair looks like a squirrel’s nest in the morning, he wouldn’t care that sometimes I get so angry I throw things and curse to make satan cover his ears, he’d just love me. But then my grandparents got a divorce, both pairs, and then my own parents, and I realized it was all an act. I told Ryan this, about the divorce not my perfect day dream, and he nodded.

“You know what I think?” He asks.

“No, do I want to?”

“You’re only 87 cynical.” He cocks his head to the side thinking hard.

“Oh really, so what’s the other 13 percent?”

“Fear.” Ryan looks prideful and slightly sneaky with his answer.

“Hell no.”

“Just listen Kill, I know I haven’t known you that long, but I’m good at seeing people. You know Brett, he never talked to anybody, but I could tell who he was and why he didn’t talk, and I got him to talk to me.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s proof that I’m smarter than I let on, think about my idea, this campus is just swarming with worthwhile guys, believe me I’ve looked, but you’re so balled up into thinking true love’s a bunch of bull that you’re not really seeing things.” I glared at him, I’ve always thought I am good at reading people.

“Kill?” He turns to look at me, long fingers tapping the steering wheel.

“No, that’s ridiculous, I’m not afraid.”

“Yes you are, you’re afraid that your relationships are doomed, all because of three bad ones.”

“But what about the millions of other people who get divorced?” I think I have him this time, you hear about it all the time in the news. Let’s face it, the overwhelming desire to be loved fools people into thinking something’s there, that really isn’t.

“What about me and Brett?” Ryan keeps on, even though we were nearing my apartment.

“We’re only in college, and why do you care so much?” He shrugs.

“It bothers me, your lack of faith.”

“Just give it up.” I try to joke but the way Ryan stares at the steering wheel holds me in the car.

“Look, Ryan, I’m just one person, there’s a whole world of people out there who try to love, concentrate on them.” I start to get out of the care, slipping off my seat belt, yanking on the door handle, thinking I’ve angered him.

“I do love Brett, sure his shyness, and his fear, and his goodness bother me, but only because it’s not how I am. I love the way his hair falls in his face when he’s embarrassed, I love his smile because very few people ever see it and I’m lucky. I love how, even though he’s shy, he’s not afraid to go for what he wants, I love his work ethic, I wish it was mine. I love how deeply and sincerely he cares for people, I love his style. I don’t like every part of him but I love all of him. That’s the thing Kill, people concentrate too much on the annoying stuff-and with good reason, it’s annoying- but if you just let the good things mean more, than the annoying stuff doesn’t matter.” I’m standing out on the sidewalk, he is only a shadow in the dark car, but his voice, brimming with sincerity, is more convincing than anything Britt’s told me about one night stands, more convincing than hearing my parents fight over everything, more convincing than the walls around my heart. But can you change something you’ve made for yourself over years and years of careful planning? Can rebuild yourself without ruining the balance around you, without tearing apart the very thing that you are?

“Kill?”

“What.” My voice carries a damn shake I thought I did away with years ago.

“Are you coming back to work?”

“I-I’ll think about it.” I slam the door and Ryan peels toward his dorm but I stay there, in the confining dark, with nothing but the swelling of my heart.