Next Semester by Cecil R. Cross

party?” I asked, trying to back out.
    “Not that I know of,” Fresh said. “We’re about to find out, though.”
    The closer we got to the house, the more I noticed Kappa Beta Psi tags on all of the cars. There were others, too—mostly Delta Delta Theta and Alpha Pi Alpha—so I knew there were gonna be some fine girls up in there. The music was coming from a house that was painted red. In the middle of the front yard, three huge, five-foot-tall letters—KBP—painted red and white, were standing upright.
    “The party is at the Kappa house?” I asked as we scaled the stairs.
    I suppose the question was so stupid it didn’t deserve an answer, because Fresh just kept on walking up the steps without ever turning around to acknowledge it. We didn’t have to knock on the door. As soon as we reached the porch, one guy wearing a Kappa jacket stumbled out of the house with two girls escorting him down the stairs—one kissing his earlobe the other rubbing his chest. I was so busy checking out the two chicks, I didn’t even get a chance to see his face, but I read the back of his jacket as clear as day. Konceited.
    “Damn!” I said. “It’s like that? Maybe I do need to join.”
    “It’s funny you should say that,” Fresh said, laughing as he opened the door.
    I didn’t know quite what he meant by that. But after being in the party for less than five minutes, I didn’t care. There had to be six girls to every guy in that house. And damn near all of ’em were drunk. Plus, it was dark. The only light in the house was coming from under the microwave in the kitchen. I heard whispers of an open bar in the kitchen, but it was so packed, we couldn’t even make it thatfar. Everywhere I turned, there was a female grabbing on me. It was as if I’d walked into heaven. I couldn’t miss. Fresh wasted no time pushing a girl up against the wall and getting freaky when the DJ slowed it down and played a slow jam. By the end of the first verse he had scooped ol’ baby clean off her feet and was grinding on her as he held both of her legs up and she gripped the back of his neck. I was in the middle of the living room, all up on some chick I’d never seen before, grinding like a blender. I couldn’t see how cute she was, but I didn’t need light to tell she was a super freak. I’d only been dancing with her for half a song when she stuck her hand down my pants. I didn’t know whether to keep dancing or sneak her to the bathroom. All I knew was all of a sudden, I was harder than a football helmet. All I could do was smile and shake my head. That’s when baby girl retracted her hand and leaned in to whisper in my ear.
    “What’s so funny?” she asked.
    “You just had your hand down my pants and I don’t even know your name,” I said.
    “They call me Peaches.”
    “Why do they call you Peaches, baby?”
    “Because I’m thick like a peach, sweet like a peach, juicy like a peach,” she said very matter-of-factly, before taking a huge sip of her drink.
    “Is that right?” I asked.
    “Yep,” she confirmed. “And if you ever get your letters, call me. I can’t wait to put it on your fine ass!”
    Before I could respond, she stepped off. I wondered, damn, is it really that easy when you’re Greek?
    “C’mon, let’s grab a drink,” Fresh said, grabbing me by my shoulder with one hand, motioning for me to follow him to the back with the other.
    I looked at my watch and saw that it was already fifteenafter three. There was really no reason to have another drink when I knew I had class in less than five hours. But peer pressure is a mutha, so I followed Fresh’s lead. The closer we got to the kitchen, the stronger I could smell something burning. It was an unfamiliar scorching scent like nothing I’d ever smelled before. I was a few steps away from the kitchen when the countdown began. There was a guy, wearing a long-sleeve shirt sitting at the table with one sleeve rolled up. He was surrounded by guys who I