Chapter 3: Winter Term

A few days later, I contacted Ginny and chatted for approximately twenty minutes.

“I didn’t think you were going to call,” she informed me.

I sensed anxiety in her voice and wanted to reassure her.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you. This is something new for me, and I’m unsure of how to proceed. You are too important to me to mess things up,”
I said.

“I am?” she inquired, surprised.

“Yeah, you are the only girl I’ve gone out with that seemed to like me and said it. I don’t want to lose that.”

My roommate started making kissing noises in the background. He mimicked out a couple kissing while wrapping his arms around himself.

“Way too much sugar; I could end up with diabetes if I stick around here for much longer,” he replied.

I flipped him off as he walked out, grinning.

“What was that comment about too much sugar?” Ginny asked.

“My roommate’s an ass. He is so envious that I have a woman of your caliber interested in me.” I responded.

“You mean that?” she asked breathlessly.

“Well, yeah,” I replied.

She rang off, and I returned to preparing for my midterms. That’s how it went all throughout the rest of the term. We talked on the phone and attended basketball games together. She would come over to the fraternity house to spend her leisure time by my side. When girls paid attention to me, she shot daggers at them. It seemed humorous to me at first. I had no idea what her growing jealousy would lead to in the future.

We would take car rides on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We would visit parks and shopping malls near campus. Her favorite pastime was to head to a local frozen yogurt shop near college to share a sundae. She would make comments about other people we observed, trying to figure out what was going on in their lives. We lived in Spartan college circumstances, so it provided inexpensive amusement. When we walked, she would clutch my hand and grip it as if I was attempting to get away from her. She would occasionally squeeze me so tight that my fingers turned white and numb.

From the start, she made it apparent that she was saving herself for her wedding night. I was okay with it; I could wait since, in my opinion, she was worth it. In our quieter times together, she would crawl up onto my lap and give me a toe curling kisses. She would repeat her mantra, “I am yours, you are mine, and no one will come between us.”

I thought to myself, “If she keeps dwelling on this, we will need to have a talk soon.”

It all came to a head around two weeks before the holiday break and finals. The fraternity was holding a dance to commemorate the end of the term. We always blew off steam before getting serious about finals. A band and a couple of kegs of beer were present, just like at any other dance. From what I remember, it was a classic 70s frat party. There was the busy dance floor and the heat in the room, despite the fact that the doors and most of the windows were open. It would hopefully let in some cool night air. Everyone was having a terrific time, and the beer was flowing freely.

Ginny drank her first beers that night, and they hit her hard. By the third one, she was all over me, being silly and demanding a kiss every 30 seconds. Who am I to complain? The girl liked and wanted to be with me. Beggars cannot be choosers, so I complied with her demands. Ginny succumbed to the alcohol shortly before 10:30 and went to the women’s bathroom to relieve herself. While she was gone, one of the other females grabbed me and pulled me out on the dance floor with her. We held each other and did the slow-swaying shuffle, that was popular at the time.

“Let go of him, you bitch; he’s mine!” Ginny screamed, and everyone in the room heard it.

I felt humiliated. “Please allow the floor to open up and swallow me,” I thought.

Looking around, I noticed Ginny storming over. She was desperate trying to grab a piece of the girl who had gotten me up to dance. I was able to position myself to prevent her from swinging at my dance partner. I wrapped my arms around her middle and hauled her up and over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I started carrying her upstairs in the undignified manner. My fraternity brothers and their dates were drawn in following the caveman routine. Jeez, I was going to be the target of a lot of jokes for weeks after tonight. After throwing Ginny over my shoulder, and carrying her up to my room, I threw her on the couch. I walked over to the door and closed it before going back over.

I then said those words that no one wants to hear, “We need to talk.”

The waterworks began. “James, you are about to dump me, aren’t you?” She sobbed.

The tears flowed down her cheeks. “I knew it was too good to last,” she wailed.

She put her head in her hands and drenched the front of her blouse and her jeans with her tears.

“No one said anything about dumping you, Ginny.” I said. “You have to quit being so jealous all the time.”

“But someone prettier, smarter, or sexier will steal you away from me. If that happened, I don’t know what I would do.”

She started sobbing harder. Her body just shook from her sobbing and it got to me.

“But Ginny, no one will take me away from you. I wouldn’t allow that happen because I love you.”

“Oh, hell, what did I say?” I thought. I’ve done it now. My mind was working quickly on damage control. I hadn’t intended to go this direction, but I had. It was time to undo what my lips had said.

“You love me? You are saying that to get me to stop crying, aren’t you?” she cried.

The pitiful look she gave me with those sad puppy-dog eyes broke my heart even more.

“No, Ginny I meant every word I said. You mean that much to me.”

I was a goner. There was no going back now. “Prepare to meet your fate,” I reasoned.

Ginny launched herself and knocked me off the couch and onto the floor, unprepared for the impact. She ended up on top of me, kissing and clinging to me, nearly strangling me in her eagerness to kiss me. I had to use all of my remaining strength to break free from her deadly grasp on my neck. Things were starting to turn black. I pushed her back so I could at least sit upright on the floor. Ginny refused to give up.

“Ginny, let me go get a damp washcloth so we can clean you up and return downstairs. We need to go downstairs before everyone starts talking. We do not need to give them any more ammunition.” I reasoned.

She let me up, and I went for a clean towel so she could wash her face before we headed downstairs.

She held my hand on the steps and had a stupid grin pasted across her adorable face. When we got downstairs, she relaxed and was her regular delightful self. A sharp contrast to the explosively enraged female she had been barely 25 minutes earlier. We went to sit with some friends at a table near the kegs.

Ginny and her pals ran to the bathroom as if on cue. It reminded me of the girls’ behavior in junior high. It was their way to travel in packs. Before she left, she apologized to my friend for earlier behavior, claiming it it was the beer speaking. My friend accepted her apology and nothing more was said.

“You said it, didn’t you?” my female friend who was sitting on the other side of me.

“Said what?” I quizzed.

I didn’t understand what she meant.

“You told her you loved her, didn’t you?” she chuckled. “I could tell by the way she floated out of here with her posse.”

I bowed my head and nodded in agreement. My friend burst out laughing, bringing tears to her eyes.

“You aren’t funny,” I responded.

“How did she get you to say that?” she cackled.

She tried hard at containing her giggles but failed to do so.

“When I suggested we needed to talk, she burst out crying and shaking. When I said that, you would have thought I was telling her that her mother had died or something.” I replied.