The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes

11⎜The Dinner

11⎜The Dinner

I stared at the door before me, a million worries colliding about in my mind. There was a soft murmur audible from within the structure, but it was nothing like the volume during my first encounter here. Shakily, I lifted my finger up to the round button, and pressed down, closing my eyes tightly for a moment as the deep tones floated about on the other side. A few seconds went by, and then the door swung open to a duo I knew, but wasn’t familiar with seeing together.

           A tall dark-haired boy had his arm loosely draped over a blonde girl in a yellow dress and pearls who looked as though she had just eaten an entire lemon. The guy had a goofy grin on his face like he usually did, and he stuffed his free hand in a pocket of his khaki pants. He had worn a short-sleeved collared shirt of the color red, and on his feet were boat shoes. When the girl noticed that I was standing before them, her expression changed drastically, and she managed to escape the hold of the other guy, greeting me with a smile and a tight hug.

           “I’m so glad you could make it, Eric!” she drawled as her arms pressed into my back.

           “Uh, me too,” I lied.

           “By the way, you look just wonderful!” the southern girl complimented once she had detached herself from me. I grinned, thankful that she hadn’t described my appearance as “a tool bag who smells like they were dunked into a vat of Abercrombie perfume,” like my dear roommate, Seth, had said before I left. Besides the fact I didn’t even like Abercrombie, I actually happened to be wearing some type of Ralph Lauren cologne. If Seth was going to insult my obscure metrosexuality, then he should’ve at least gotten his facts straight first.

           Before I had left, I had basically gone through every single article of clothing that I had, trying to figure out what was appropriate to wear to a frat dinner. In the end, I had settled with a pair of khaki shorts, a light green (I was almost positive the color was called “mint”) button-down, and boat shoes. It was a pretty standard outfit, but it worked, and I was comfortable in it. Seth, on the other hand, clearly had an issue with what I was wearing, because he only insulted it, like, eight times.

           “Thanks,” I said as the two ushered me inside.

           “Yeah, Wilson,” said the other individual who had invited me in the first place, “you look good.”

           “But you always look good, Eric,” the blonde added as they lead me down a dimly lit hallway and towards the evident commotion.

           “Thanks, Kay,” I said with a gulp, my nerves increasing the closer we got to our final destination.

           “What about me?” the tall boy demanded, implying that I owed him, too, an acknowledgment of what he had said.

           “Thanks, Scott,” I sighed as the mentioned boy slung an arm over my shoulder in a manner that he had with Kay just minutes before.

           “Welcome, Wilson,” he squeezed my shoulder. “Now, Ari was third-wheeling with Kay and Houston when she got here, which was, like, thirty minutes ago, so I swooped in and ditched my date to chill with her.” He paused as Kay elbowed him in the side, because I was guessing that she wasn’t too in favor of, well, anything he had said. Scott continued on as if nothing had happened, ignoring Kay completely. “Anyways, if she seems especially distant, then it’s just because she’s daydreaming about me.”

           “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” I told him with a light laugh.

           “Scott, do you even know your date’s name?” Kay questioned with more than a dash of that southern sass of hers that only rarely surfaced. We had made our way through a dim hallway, and were now at the doorway of what appeared to be a dining room of sorts. The muffed sound of meshed conversations could be heard loudly, and I was dreading even the thought of walking through that threshold.