Celia

I'm sitting in Caffeine with Will and Jonah, drinking a double espresso. I think Will is talking about some girl he fucked at a party last weekend. Stacy. Her name was Stacy. Jonah is trying to establish whether or not this is the same Stacy he fucked in the back of his Pathfinder last semester.

"Stacy from Long Island?" Jonah asks.

"Connecticut," Will replies, sipping his chai. "She said she was from ... Connecticut."

"Blonde hair?" Jonah asks, looking around the café.

"No, I think it was brown," Will replies. "Or red, maybe."

"Obviously not the same Stacy," I say, looking at my nails, thinking I should trim them.

"What about you, Ty?" Will asks. "Did you get laid last weekend?"

I have to think. I went over to Adam's dorm on Friday night. We did a couple grams of coke and smoked some weed. Then we went to a cocktail party at Adrian's apartment. I had my eyes on a skinny, blonde girl, but got distracted when Colin asked me if I wanted to go back to his room and take bong rips. After we smoked, I ended up making out with Colin and passing out on his floor. The next night there was an apocalypse party at Nora's dorm. I drank a bunch of screwdrivers and went home with some freshman named Jessica. I think we had a threesome with her roommate Alexis, but I'm not sure. Maybe Alexis just watched.

"I fucked some freshmen," I say, finishing my espresso.

"Cool," Jonah says while checking out a girl ordering at the counter.

"What are you guys doing this weekend?" Will asks.

"I don't know," I reply. "I've got my eye on a girl."

"Who?" Jonah asks, his eyes widen and he seems to be expressing genuine emotion. I think it's surprise.

"Just this girl I've got class with," I say, pulling out my pack of Export A's.

"What girl is left on this campus that you haven't fucked?" Jonah asks.

I light my cigarette. "Celia."

Celia is sitting two desks ahead of me in our cinema studies class. She's sucking on the end of her pen like it's a cigarette. Her legs are crossed. She's wearing low pants so I can see the top of her crack. Her hair dangles in dark ringlets above her shoulders; occasionally, she twirls a black curl around a white finger. Her red nail polish is chipping.

Professor Marchetti asks what the class thought of the last screening. I missed the last screening because I dropped acid with my friend John. Most of the other faces are blank. People shift awkwardly in their chairs and pretend to look at notes. Celia tosses her arm in the air.

"Celia," Professor Marchetti smiles. "How did you feel about La Vie Rêvée des Anges?"

Celia slowly pulls the pen from between her lips. "I think the hand-held camera work created a surreal ambience, an effect I believe the director wished to achieve due to the film's title." She rakes her fingers through her hair. "I thought the relationship between Marie and Isa was welldeveloped, as was the texture of their impoverished lifestyle." Celia picks at her chipping nail polish. "I had a problem with the ending though."

"What was that?" Professor Marchetti asks.

"I don't think Marie would have killed herself over that guy, Chris," Celia replies. "Marie was numb. She was emotionally unattainable. I don't think some womanizing asshole could have so much power over her. She was untouchable."

Celia is one of the four people in my class who actually talk. She's always on top of her shit. I'm not sure how she does it. I think she has a mild speed habit and an addiction to Ambien.

Professor Marchetti reminds us that we have an exam next Friday and I make a note to buy some Adderol from Steve so I can concentrate during the test.

I'm eating at Madeleine's with Colin and his girlfriend, Marlee. Colin told me he was going out to dinner with Marlee and Celia, so I invited myself along. Celia is fifteen minutes late.

Marlee is talking about the eighties revival in fashion and how much she loves ankle boots and polka dots. Colin is poking at the ice cubes in his ginger ale with a straw. I wonder where my salad is. I wonder where Celia is. Marlee says she thinks that Tupac isn't really dead. The waiter puts a basket of bread on our table.

Celia erupts through the front door. Marlee sees her and flings her arm over her head.

"Celia!" Marlee shrieks. "Over here!"

Celia saunters over to our table, tottering a little. When she scoots into the booth with me, I can smell coconut rum on her breath.

"Hey guys," Celia says, plucking a piece of bread out of the basket.

"What's going on?" Marlee asks.

"Nothing," Celia replies, nibbling on the crust of her bread. "I just had the most amazing sex." She smiles and bites her bottom lip. "I just got off Zoloft. If you like sex, NEVER go on anti-depressants. That is my public service announcement for the century. I can finally appreciate Tommy's big dick."

Celia falls over the table laughing.

Marlee laughs too, but is actually checking out a nearby waiter.

Colin pops a Vicodin.

"You're in my French cinema class, right?" I ask Celia.

"Oh yeah," she says, still giggling. "You're that guy who never comes to class."

Celia licks a crumb from the corner of her mouth and I see her tongue ring glisten. "I come to class," I smile. "I really liked what you had to say last week."

"Thanks," she says.

I'm relieved she doesn't ask me what it was that she said, since I don't remember. I don't even think I went to class last week.

"I'm Celia," she extends a dainty hand. I wonder if she's anorexic.

"Tyler," I say. We shake.

"Celia, are you going to that party at Paul's house tonight?" Marlee asks.

"I don't think so," Celia replies. "Tommy scored some molly, so we were gonna take that and just touch each other all night."

"Cool," Marlee replies, looking over at Colin. His eyes are closed and his head is tilted back.

"Do you ever come out?" I ask Celia. "Or are you always pent up with your boyfriend?"

"I party," Celia smiles. "Plus, Tommy's not my boyfriend. We just fuck sometimes."

Excellent.

Paul's house is crowded and the kegs run out by midnight. I smoke a joint with a sophomore named Britney and then get head from her in the bathroom. I'm too drunk to cum. Afterwards, I wander around the party, chain-smoking. A guy named Mike comes up to me and tells me he knows I slept with his girlfriend, Felicia. I tell him I don't even know anyone named Felicia, but realize it's possible. Maybe she was the voluptuous brunette I went home with after the Halloween party.

I stumble back to my dorm at four in the morning. The breeze is cold but the alcohol has made me numb. My hall is quiet except for the scraping of mattress springs in the room next to mine. After I floss and brush my teeth, I read a few Bukowski short stories. Then I turn out the lights and think of Celia fucking Tommy while I masturbate.

Saturday night, Jonah, Will, and I smoke a hookah in Jonah's room. Around eleven, we go to see a band play at the Tunnel. The band is called Beer Garden and they really suck and I wonder why Will suggested we go see them. I feel restless so I pop a couple Klonopin. Once they kick in, listening to Beer Garden isn't so bad.

On my way to the bathroom, I notice Celia sitting at the bar. She's alone, drinking a Corona. I sift through the crowd and over to her.

"Hey Celia," I say, running my hand down her back.

She jerks her head around, startled. "Do I know you?" she asks. Her jaw is moving back and forth.

"Tyler," I say. "From class."

"Oh yeah," she smiles and closes her eyes. "Sorry. I'm a little cracked out. I stayed up all night last night blowing coke and studying for an art history exam."

"It's cool," I say, fingering one of her curls. "Do you want a Klonopin? It might chill you out."

"Thanks," she says, sticking out her palm. I hand her the small blue pill.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" I ask. "This band really sucks."

"I don't know," she says. "I think Tommy and I are supposed to hang out after the show."

"Come on, Celia," I smile. "Do you really want to be here right now?"

"I guess you're right," she grins, grinding her teeth. "Let's go."

When we get back to my room, the Klonopin has started working on Celia. She lies down on my floor and closes her eyes.

"Do you have anything to drink?" she mumbles.

"No," I lie.

I go to the bathroom to piss and when I get back, Celia's completely passed out. Her face is soft and pale as chalk. She looks dead, but her body twitches every five minutes or so, which I attribute to the coke working itself out of her system. I crack open a beer and sit down next to her. She smells like vanilla and cigarettes. I fall asleep with my arm draped over her.

When I wake up the next morning she's gone. One of her hairs is stuck to my shirt. There's a note taped to the back of my door: "Thanks for taking care of me. Love, Celia."

I'm sitting in Caffeine with Will and Jonah, drinking a mocha. Jonah is talking about how his ex-girlfriend Susan had group sex with Beer Garden last night. He says he doesn't care if she's gonna whore herself around, he just wishes he could have gotten in on it. Will says he was in an orgy once. It was cool.

"So," Jonah says, stirring more sugar into his coffee. "I saw you leave with Celia last night."

"Yeah," I say.

"Did you fuck her?" Will asks, biting into a biscotti.

"No," I reply. "She passed out."

"So why didn't you fuck her?" Jonah asks, laughing.

Will and Jonah high five.

I don't say anything.

"Jesus," Jonah groans. "I'm joking, man. I'm sorry you didn't get laid."

I light a cigarette. "I don't know" I say. "I think I like this girl."

Jonah sips his coffee. Will brushes crumbs off his shirt.

I go to the counter to get another mocha. When I get back, Will is talking about the mushrooms he's currently growing under his bed.

"They should be ready in about six weeks," Will says. "Just in time for spring."

"Those are gonna sell really fast," Jonah says. "You better reserve a quarter for me."

"I'll try," Will smiles. "As long as Hannah Foster doesn't get to them all first."

Jonah laughs. "That chick will take anything," Jonah says, watching a girl's ass sway as she strolls by. "It's sad when someone has such a serious drug problem."

"Yeah," Will replies. "And she's beautiful too." He shakes his head. "You never like to see that."

The next night there's a party at Marlee's apartment. I get there early, hoping to come across Celia, but she's nowhere to be found. I take a few shots of tequila and smoke a bowl with some girl named Michelle. She asks me to come back to her place. Normally I would, but I know Celia is going to show up sooner or later.

I find Colin blowing lines of coke in the bathroom. He invites me to join in and I snort about half a gram. Then we go sit on the balcony and chain-smoke.

Halfway through my fourth cigarette I spot Celia inside. She's smoking a jay with some girls I don't think I know, though they look familiar. I walk inside, hoping I haven't slept with any of them.

Celia sees me approaching and smiles. She doesn't say anything; she just passes the joint to me.

"Hi," I say, taking a hit. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she replies. "I just bought an eighth of this really sweet pot. It's laced with opium."

"Cool," I say, passing the joint back to her.

"What are you up to tonight?" she asks.

"I don't know," I reply. "This."

Celia smears some gloss on her lips and rubs them together, very slowly. "Do you wanna come over?" Celia asks. "I've got some beer. We could just hang out and ... talk."

"Sure," I reply. "That would be chill."

We walk across campus to Celia's dorm. The pot we smoked hits her hard and she stumbles a little. She clings to my arm to keep balance. I take hold of her hand; it's cold, so I put it in my jacket pocket.

When we get to Celia's room, she lights some incense and puts Portishead on the stereo. She slips off her boots and slides onto the bed. I hang back in the doorway. She sinks her eyes into mine.

"So," she whispers. "Is this gonna happen?"

I walk in and shut the door behind me. She smiles. I sit down on the bed next to her. She touches my lips with her finger. I slide my hand behind her neck. We kiss.

I wake up early the next morning. Celia is curled around me. The sun pours through the windows and drenches the bed. The sheets stick to my skin. Celia sticks to my skin. My hands reek of her. I can hear her breathing. I feel like I can't breathe. I creep out of bed and pull on my boxers. After I'm dressed, I pick up a pen off her desk. I start to write a note, but crumple it up and throw it in the garbage.

I'm sitting in Caffeine with Will and Jonah, drinking a double espresso. I think Will is talking about how some girl he knows just got herpes. Jonah says he thinks STD's suck. Will says that Al Capone died of syphilis while in jail.

"So," Jonah says, turning towards me. "How's Celia?"

"I don't know," I reply, sipping my drink. "I'm not really that into her."

"I thought you liked her," Will says, staring out the window.

"Whatever," I reply, lighting a cigarette. "What are you guys doing this weekend?"

"There's a drag party at Naomi's house Friday night," Jonah replies.

"Cool," I say.

Will starts talking about how his friend Jack just got some really good coke. Jonah says coke is too expensive and he needs to stop doing it. If only it weren't so fucking good. I drag on my cigarette. Will says the comedown off coke has been pretty bad for him lately. Jonah says it helps if you take Valium. I crush my cigarette in an ashtray and watch the smoke drift up towards the ceiling.

- Alison Hathaway