“Oh, c’mon! You can study tomorrow. Saturday nights are for parties. You, of all people, should know that!” That would be my friend, Molly. She’s one of those people who won’t take no for an answer, and this time, she wanted me to come to a party with her. If only I had known what I was getting myself into by letting her talk me into going out.
“Alright, I’ll go. Just give me an hour to finish typing this paper and change clothes, and I’ll go.” This is the point where I should probably give you some background information on myself. I’m nineteen years old and attending a small, private college in the Midwest. I’m one of those tall, thin girls with not much in the boob department, but I’ve been told that my ass makes up for it. Guys are constantly smacking it or telling me how good it looks. I do have a boyfriend, and did at the time of this story. (As a side note, he does know *most* of what happened that Saturday night.) Now, on with the story.
Being the kind of person who puts fun before work, I naturally decided to put my paper off until the next day. I spent the hour straightening my hair and squeezing into my tightest pair of pants. Figuring the party would be hot, I put on a tank top and was ready to go.
(…)
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