Page 6 of Tutored By the Smart Girl

“Funny.” She wrinkles her nose, plops down on a stool, and rests her arms on the bar facing me. “Did you think any more about tonight?”

“I’m gonna hang out here and work on some homework.”

Anna dramatically drops her head to the countertop. “Comeon,” she groans. “I promise it’ll be fun and not too crazy.”

I flip over the sandwich in the skillet and shake my head. “It’s just not my thing.” I plop the second sandwich into the skillet.

“I know you can’t drink and that’s fine. We’ll fill your insulated cup with cola and you can bring it. Just walk around with that and I promise no one will be any the wiser. Is that why you never come to parties?”

“Well, it’s that, plus, I don’t know anyone and?—”

“Exactly.” Anna points her index finger in my direction. “What better way to get to know people, right?”

Anna is the only one who knows about my heart condition. The only one I’ve confided in about the details and my restrictions. I had my first heart surgery when I was a year old and a second surgery when I was thirteen. My heart is healthy, but I must take care of myself— proper diet, plenty of exercise, and no alcohol. She’s also the only one who knows about my father, and that painful issue in my life.

Anna setsdown the curling iron after twisting my last piece of hair around it.

“Perfect,” she proclaims and opens the cap on the hair pomade. “I’d give anything to have your tresses.” She uses her hands like a professional on my dark brown locks until I have an amazing hair style.

After Anna insists, I borrow her favorite Rebels T-shirt and pair it up with my skinny blue jeans, we walk through the campus to what’s known as the football house.

The football house looms large on campus as a two-and-a-half-story brick home in the older part of Marilyn, Tennessee, just a short walk from the University.

Students stand shoulder-to-shoulder on the big porch and their laughter fills the humid evening air. As we approach the house, my stomach churns like every eye is on me.

Maybe it’s not too late to turn around and run back to the safety of my dorm room. I’ve never liked parties. . . but I promised Anna.

Halfway to the porch, Anna stops, turns to me, and touches my forearm. “I know you hate this. Try to relax and have fun. Just stick with me.”

It’s not that Ihateit, I’m just not comfortable around crowds. It feels too confining. I’m fun and outgoing around my small group of friends but being around people I don’t know is hard.

We make our way through the crowd on the porch and step into the foyer. The living room is brimming with students— some sit on couches and chairs while others congregate in small groups around the room.

I clench my insulated cup of cola and I’m glued to Anna’s back as she leads me through the dining room. A group of students plays beer pong at the table. We make our way to the kitchen.

I hear a deep voice say, “Help yourself.”

“Hey Sean,” Anna greets a tall handsome guy who stands near the liquor bottles.

Anna grabs the insulated cup filled with cola from my hand.

The tips of my ears burn as adrenaline surges through my veins.

No. No, Anna. I don’t want booze in my cup.

“I’m having a beer and Adison just needs a mixer.” Anna turns to me and winks.

“Thank you.” I let out a breath. “Yes. A mixer would be great.”

“Be right back.” Anna gives me a squeeze and ambles across the large kitchen, red cup in hand. She greets other partygoers as she waits in line at the keg.

If only I could feel that confident.

“Which mixer can I get you?” Sean points to the various 2-liter bottles of soft drinks lined up in front of him.

“A cola would be great.” I take a deep breath to calm myself.

Why do I get so nervous? Everything is fine.

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