I don't know if everyone's like this, but talking about other people has always been easier than talking about myself. I was never "the prettiest girl," even though I fit into several of the stereotypes society loves to idolize. Maybe because, in my hometown, everyone looked more or less the same, and monotony was exhausting.My hair, dark blonde and always messy, was usually tied up in a makeshift bun. I have light eyes, fair skin, average height — 1.63 cm, which for most people seemed "just right" — and a body with not many curves. The result? Never nominated for Miss Itaphum and constantly stopped at the movies for looking "too much like a kid." Which, obviously, annoyed me.
But that night, I decided to take a risk. I accepted Lorena's challenge and put on the tiny skirt she had lent me. The tights were so thin they felt like an invitation to hypothermia. I only went through with it because I had my pink wool coat, bought by grandma years ago, and I swore I wouldn't take it off for anything.
The party was held in the woods near the Arts building. Pop music blasted from the speakers, red cups passed from hand to hand, and smoke from the bonfire mixed the smell of alcohol with raw anticipation. As soon as we arrived, an upperclassman handed us the infamous "spiked punch." Lorena laughed as she warned me, but honestly, it was nothing new. When you're born in the "city of cachaça," you learn to handle alcohol early.
"Too bad Rafa didn't want to come," Lorena said, glancing around. "It would've been the perfect chance for him to socialize.""Architecture is throwing a party too," I explained. "But he's not really into this kind of thing."She nodded absently, humming along with the music while her eyes locked on someone across the bonfire. I followed her gaze and spotted a blonde with perfect curls, surrounded by friends, laughing at something a guy whispered in her ear. Lorena sighed nervously, tapping her cup with her finger.
"You can go if you want," I whispered, nudging her with my elbow. "It's fine. I can take care of myself."She hesitated for a moment, as if to be sure, then smiled at me, mouthed a silent "thanks," and crossed the clearing toward the group. I watched from a distance. The blonde's expression upon noticing Lorena wasn't exactly welcoming. I sighed and focused back on my drink.
By the third refill, I was already dancing alone near the table, spinning my empty cup in my hand. The music switched to something I knew well, and I couldn't resist singing along, tapping my foot to the beat. The liquid went down way too easily — sweet, fruity, hardly any taste of alcohol at all. I laughed to myself: This is what they call spiked? Barely noticeable.
The party seemed perfect… until I heard a voice I really didn't want to recognize."Didn't know girls with weird names came to this kind of party."I took a deep breath, turned slowly, and there he was. The same irritating upperclassman from the first day. Taller than I remembered, neatly trimmed goatee, short hair, and that smug smile that made me want to punch him.
He was wearing a leather jacket over a red polo shirt. He looked more like he was ready for a formal date than a freshmen party.And of course, even better-looking than I remembered.
"If this party lets people dressed like that in, my name is the least of its problems," I shot back, making a face at his shirt.He chuckled, tilting his head like he enjoyed the provocation."At least I'm comfortable." He threw my own earlier line right back at me. "Can't say the same about that mini skirt. You must be freezing.""You have no idea." I crossed my arms over my wool coat, striking a mock-confident pose. "This was Lorena's idea."
He raised an eyebrow, like the name sounded familiar. I used the moment to pour myself more punch. The sweetness was already sticking to the roof of my mouth."Friends?" he guessed, pointing at my cup."Yeah. Always pulling the 'come on, let's go to the party, it'll be fun' card.""Can't say I disagree." His eyes scanned me up and down, amused. "But in your case, I've got to admit: definitely a conversation starter."
I laughed involuntarily, covering it quickly with another sip."Glad I could help. I mean, what else are freshmen good for besides entertaining upperclassmen and getting humiliated during hazing?"He feigned indignation."Oh, harsh, sweetheart!" he dramatized. "But true. It's tradition. Passed down from generation to generation. Every upperclassman's dream is watching a freshman suffer.""I don't see the fun in hazing," I said flatly, remembering those annoying announcements in the auditorium.
He let out a heavy sigh, finally more serious."Neither do I," he admitted. "That's why I stay out of it. I'd rather help the department as a teaching assistant and just laugh at people's weird names. But this year… there was only one.""And once again, I helped you out! I should start charging for this." I turned to grab more punch. How does this drink vanish so fast?"Depending on the terms, I'd be glad to pay," he said low, but loud enough to make me choke on my drink.
That mischievous smile didn't match the seriousness in his eyes. And for a second, I caught myself staring at his lips.Get a grip, Aza!
I looked around for Lorena, but she had vanished with the blonde. I sighed, uneasy."Looking for your friend?" he asked, noticing my wandering gaze."Yeah. Looks like I've been abandoned." I muttered, cursing Lorena in my head. "Guess I'll just head home alone.""I can walk you back.""Oh, sure!" I lifted my chin, trying to hide my nerves. "And why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be a creep pretending to be nice.""Wow, defensive much?" He smirked. "If I were a creep, I'd have already made a move.""That's exactly what a creep would say.""Not in the same way." He winked. "Creeps force things. I work with consent."
I rolled my eyes, and he laughed."Fine! But think about it. Wouldn't it be worse to walk home alone? A young girl, new in town?"I weighed my options, glancing around again. Not great."Mr. Normal, you're insufferable," I muttered, giving in."And yet you're letting me walk you home."
I didn't answer, just downed my cup and headed toward the exit. He set his down on the table and followed.
The campus was quiet, almost eerie, lit only by scattered lampposts and the high moon. The wind rustled the trees, shadows shifting along the ground. A strange silence settled between us."Do you live nearby?" I asked, just to fill the void."Shared house with four other guys. You?""I share an apartment with a friend."He chuckled, full of implication."A friend? You really buy that?"
Stop it right now, Aza. Don't take the bait.But I stopped anyway, annoyed."Ridiculous! Rafa is my friend. We grew up together. He's like a brother to me."
He stepped closer, that damned smile still on his face. For a moment, the sounds of the party seemed to fade away. Only the wind in the trees and his burning gaze on me remained."That's all I needed to know," he murmured, voice low and rough.
And before I could protest, I felt his hand slide to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His warm breath brushed my ear."If you don't want this… just say so."
My body answered before my mouth could. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and we met in a clumsy kiss — teeth bumping, my heart racing, him laughing softly."First kiss?" he asked, surprised.I blushed, lowering my gaze.He lifted my chin, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and smiled."Relax. My first one was a disaster too. She was chewing gum." He laughed."Gross!" I smacked his shoulder.He laughed harder, and before I could fire back, he kissed me again. Slower this time. Warmer. The sweet taste of the punch still on my lips, his hand now steady on my waist, and the shock of realizing I didn't want to pull away.
The world disappeared, leaving only our heavy breaths, hands exploring with no rush, a new heat burning from the inside out. For a moment, I wasn't Azaléia, the lost freshman. I was just me, feeling something that made no sense but seemed inevitable.
When we finally stopped, he leaned his forehead against mine, smirking while I stared at him like I'd just committed a federal crime. My heart was pounding, my mouth still hot, and my head screaming: Azaléia, you idiot, you just kissed the cockiest guy in college!And of course, what came out of my mouth was:"I don't even know your name…"
He raised an eyebrow, that mischievous grin still there."And you've already kissed me. Imagine when you find out…"I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the heat in my cheeks."Spare me, Mr. Normal."