When Joss Met Matt Read Online Free

ground down and stained, the walls marked and the furniture nearly buried under empty soda and beer cans. The whole place smelled like dirty socks. I swallowed my urge to flee and tried on a sassy smile.
    He shoved the blankets back to reveal sheets decorated with a sweat ring and collapsed onto the bed with a grin.
    â€œCome here, cutie,” he said. I straddled his lap, fully clothed. I was honestly afraid to take my shoes off, but I knew it would have to happen eventually.
    His breath smelled like cheap beer and his kisses were sloppy. The longer we fooled around, the looser Jeff’s hands were getting on my body, but I persisted. When I sat up to take my shirt off, I realized he had passed out.
    Well that’s just fucking great.
    In my desperation, I actually checked the crotch of his pants. Soft. I dismounted my unconscious frat boy and stood back to survey the situation. To proceed or not to proceed?
    It was depressing. Not to mention humiliating. I couldn’t believe I was even considering the possibilities. Did I really want to perpetrate a sexual assault? Me? No. Get out now, I decided. My nose itched with the telltale warning sign of tears. This was a low point, for sure. Probably the lowest of my life.
    I closed the button on my jeans and slipped out of the room. The party was still in full swing when I went downstairs, but I found the door. I was ready to go home.
    Outside, the air was still and cold. The sky was clear and starry, but I didn’t have time to waste looking at it. I was shivering without my coat, and cursing my choice to leave it back in my nice warm room. Cursing my whole stupid plan, actually. Frat Row was loud with music, laughter, and the sound of girls’ heels clicking on the sidewalk. I passed couples, trios of sorority sisters with their arms linked, groups of guys who had reached the play-fighting stage of drunkenness. No one was alone. I picked up the pace.
    At the end of Langdon Street, I found the bus line that would take me back to my dorm, and waited for the next pick up. My breath made clouds before me, and my nose was starting to run. I used the edge of my sleeve to wipe it, and realized my shirt smelled like cheap beer and cigarettes. Thank God I didn’t smell like Jeff’s room anyway. I blinked, expecting my eyes to be running as well, but I seemed to be out of tears.
    I wrapped my arms around my exposed middle, questioning my judgment for the millionth time that night. My dorm was across campus, and the only paths there were over a huge hill or down a dark, isolated path along the lake. I was just contemplating walking the lake path back to my dorm when the bus turned the corner.
    We called it the Drunk Bus, and for good reason. After dark, the university ran four bus lines in the city for free. It was the best way to move large groups of inebriated students around, and everybody knew it. The bus chugged to a stop in front of me. I could see through the windows that it was already full of students.
    When the doors opened, drunken singing poured out like theme music. I climbed the steps and used the handrails to pull myself through the crowded aisle. Since the passengers weren’t paying, the drivers had no compunction about filling the buses well beyond capacity. The pink-cheeked drunks on board were launching into a rousing chorus of “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” when the bus pulled away from the stop.
    I managed to squeeze my way into a bit of space near the rear door, and found Matt Lehrer sitting in one of the side-facing seats.
    â€œHey, Joss,” he said, blurry-eyed.
    â€œMatt, what’s up?” I mustered a smile.
    â€œAre you alone?” he asked.
    â€œYeah.” I shrugged.
    â€œI didn’t think you guys did that.” He smirked.
    â€œWho’s that?”
    â€œGirls. I thought you were pack animals.”
    â€œI’m a rebel.” I wanted to dissuade him from asking me more about my night.