I have told myself many, many times since spring break that I am not going to let anything more happen with Sean M. That night in Florida was very strange and very out of character for us, but I forgave myself for it because we'd each had about half a case of Bud Light that night and thats the sort of thing that's supposed to happen on spring break anyway and hey, at least I drew the line somewhere and didn't sleep with him. Blame it on the sand and the ocean and the alcohol and put it in the past, right?
But somehow I have let drunken makeout sessions and okay maybe sometimes more than makeout sessions become something of a habit for us, and it really should stop, because we are friends and he is sort of an acquaintance of Aaron's and the whole situation is just weird. He isn't really all that cute and he has that goofy curly hair and he's an inch shorter than me, which I hate more than you can possibly comprehend, and he is absolutely the least photogenic person ever, and he's Sean for godsake, the Sean that I met when I was twelve and he lived around the corner from Elise. This whole situation is just all kinds of bizarre.
The night after that night in Florida, though, we were laying on the beach and he put his hand on my back, and my skin started to heat up and my heart started to race a little bit, as if my body had learned to respond to his touch, and that should not have happened. And he wears this really incredible cologne, though, so everytime I get within a few feet of him, I am like on of those girls in the Axe commercials. And he is a really really good kisser, like one of the best out of the over 70 boys I have ever kissed, which I cannot believe I just admitted. And before I know what's going on, he has me pressed against the wall outside of SeanO's apartment and things start to take off from there.
And when we are sober, everything is one hundred percent normal - we've always had a pretty cool friendship, the kind where we sarcastically pick on each other and argue about anything and everything and have a great time doing it. He plays the guitar really well and loves to sing Beatles songs, and his recent obsession with Queen's music is a constant source of entertainment, and he calls me "Redness" even though I am mostly blonde again at this point. Nothing is awkward, but we don't touch each other either.
Yet another reason why I should probably cut back on the drinking but also probably won't.
nicole: 19-year-old LSU sophomore. biochemistry, pre-med. native new orleanian. starbucks barista. borderline alcoholic. addicted to facebook, red bull and vodka, and college football. a little neurotic, extremely indecisive, and often irresponsible.
