Coed Confidential

From the outside, the house looks like it might be the home of a double-income family. It's painted white and has a well-kept lawn that harbors a few piles of freshly raked leaves. Inside, the living room is furnished with a large wraparound couch, an entertainment center with a 19-inch TV and a kidney-shaped glass coffee table. If not for the row of sorority paddles that hangs on a wall, you might never know it's the crash pad of eight college students at the University of Illinois. The most obvious signs of life are in the messy bedrooms. Michelle, a freckly, svelte blonde and the queen of serious relationships, had sex with Brad in her bed today. Oddly, hers is the only one that's made. Papers, textbooks and clothes are strewn about. Bookshelves and tables are covered with group photographs from sorority functions. A picture in Kat's room shows her and two other girls in a tipsy pyramid. "I don't even remember being in that picture. I think I puked that night," she says, laughing. Kat is the resident smartass. She's in lust with Jack, a guy she tends bar with. Although they've been "shacking" at least once a week for the past six months, he wants nothing more than a sexual relationship.

The girls call their house the Big Poppa, after the song by the Notorious B.I.G. Kat, tossing back her dark hair, explains, "At the end of the night, even if we don't have a guy, we always have the Big Poppa to come home to."

Four P.M. Friday

Ah, happy hour. Students toting backpacks head straight from class to the nearest bar. They're looking for cheap drink specials first; good music is a distant second. On the weekends at the U. of I., there's always a reason to whoop. Even fair weather merits a celebration.

This afternoon Kat, Amanda, Christine and Liz are sprawled on the couch watching Oprah and nursing hangovers. Liz, a spunky redhead, is the only one who made it to class today.

Jen zips through the room. She's half dressed and has a peculiar red spot on her neck. "I just burned myself with the curling iron--total hickey. Not cool." She has two potential boyfriends to juggle this weekend: PJ, who lives in the frat across the street, and Vic, her best friend from home.

Sara, a petite cutie pie with blondish hair, is plopped in a chair next to the couch. Her thin, muscular legs hang over the chair's arm. "I thought Jen was going to throw up on the bus last night," she says.

"Didn't she?" Amanda asks coyly.

"She puked, but it was in my bed," says Karen, a glossy-haired, full-figured babe, from the floor in front of the TV.

A true friend is one who holds your hair back while you puke. Karen did it last night for Jen and for Chuck, her current obsession. "In high school they used to call me Mom. I took care of everyone," she says gloomily.

Jen returns dressed and ready for happy hour. Sara looks aghast. "I can't believe you're going out so early," she says, glad to move off the distasteful topic of puking.

"I'm not going to start drinking yet. I'm driving," Jen says.

"I'm ready," Karen says. "Don't forget that the purpose of this weekend is for those of us who don't have barn dance dates to get barn dance dates. And it's a lot easier for me when I'm under the influence." The girls look at her and smile. They're for anything that will get Karen a date.

A barn dance is a sorority function where everyone dresses in flannel shirts and jeans, hops on buses and heads to a local farm for an evening of hayrides, bonfires, drinking and dancing. At the last barn dance, Amanda went to pee behind the barn and noticed someone's ass going up and down. A couple was having sex in the cornfield. The next day, Amanda told her friend Janie, who turned bright red. As Kat says, "Immediately, we knew it was her. And we're like, 'Well, we hope you were on top, right?' And she's like, 'Hell yeah, I didn't want to get shit all over my back!'"

As Oprah's credits roll, Karen mopily heads to the shower. She hasn't had the best luck with guys lately. She took Chuck to Wednesday night's impromptu, a last-minute party whose object is that invitees must find a date ASAP, and the two "totally started macking." But when they got into his bedroom and she took off her shirt and bra, she was humiliated to find that he didn't want her. "Not once did he touch my butt or my chest," she says, amazed. "When I left, he gave me two pecks. He never asked me for my phone number or said Til talk to you' or anything. I saw him last night at after-hours. We started talking and he put his arm around me. Then he fell down and passed out. I slept on his couch. I left this morning without saying goodbye."

Christine, a humble beauty with dishwater-blonde hair, comes downstairs in a robe and with a towel on her head. She's holding Herbie Handcock, the house mascot. "So how'd Herbie make it upstairs?" she asks. Herbie's a nine-inch dildo decorated with a tuft of black hair and a red ribbon around its shaft. Although it's never used for its intended purpose, the girls have made a game of hiding it around the house (Karen's coat pocket, Kat's backpack, Amanda's bed).

"Wednesday night after the impromptu everyone came back to our house," Kat says. "Everyone was wasted, but me and Michelle were stone-sober and trying to study. They showed the guys the dildo and our penis mug and everything. It was so embarrassing. But all six guys shacked."

"Untrue," Christine says in her usual laid-back tone. "My date, John, and I were in my room and he's all itchy and coughy and I ask him what's wrong. He goes, 'Is this a down comforter? I'm allergic to down.' He's allergic to the damn comforter--I had to take him home!"

Jen, Michelle and Brad are good to go, but they want to pound a few Bud Lights. Beers in hand, they sit down near the rest of the roommates.

"Kat and I were talking about how often we get with guys," Liz says. "Kat compares her rate to holidays, but mine is like the Olympics--it happens once every four years." Liz just ended a four-year long-distance relationship. She's excited to be single. On Wednesday, as Kat points outs, Liz met a guy named Mike, and they shacked.

"Actually, we've all gotten lucky with guys lately," Kat says.

Five P.M.

The watering hole of choice is packed. It's filled with sports memorabilia and has a huge, wraparound bar, 20 TVs and ratty booths lining the walls. There's a Weezeresque band playing on the dance floor in the corner. Two pitchers comin' right up.

"We have to pace ourselves, or else we won't make it," Karen says, ever the pessimist. She slams her first beer and fills her cup again. The "Monster" pitchers cost $9 each, with a $3 deposit. Three beers and 30 minutes later, pacing notwithstanding, Karen rhapsodizes about the time she hooked up with a stranger from another school. "He was a model. Greasy hair, Italian Stallion--I loved it. I hadn't had even a kiss for six months. We got totally wasted and started macking on the dance floor. We went back to the Poppa and within a minute we were completely naked. Jen's passed out on the bed right next to us, but we don't care. We're totally going at it. Next thing I know, Kat busts in. We're on top of the covers and we're like, 'Kat, get out!' She's like, 'What are you guys doing?' We're like, 'Out, now!'"

Karen doesn't need to be in love to have sex. She just wants to know that he's going to call, that she's going to see him again. "I contemplated having sex with him," she says, "but I would've had to get out of bed to get a condom, which meant walking naked in front of him. So we did everything but. Such a hottie."

"But the next morning you didn't even talk," Michelle points out.

"I was completely uncomfortable. What do you say? He's going back to his school. I knew it was a one-night thing."

The last time Karen slept with someone, he didn't call. "For five days all I did was smoke pot and get completely wasted. I'd pass out on the bathroom floor, and I never get that bad. I had sex with him because he made me feel petite and beautiful--he knew exactly what I needed to hear. I wanted to sleep with him again, not because I liked him but because I wanted to experiment more. I felt so comfortable around him."

The rest of the roommates break through the crowd to where Karen, Michelle and Brad are sitting. "Hey, I can get $3 pitchers," Kat says, ready to use her employee discount. The sighs of relief are audible. She fills her cup, waits for the foam to subside and takes a long, been-in-the-desert drink. Jack, her fellow bartender and boy toy, is on her mind. "My relationship situation is like the economy--it's an ever-growing deficit. No matter how many powerful men try to change it, it just gets worse. When I hang out with Jack I smoke excessively, I gamble. A great influence on my life. All my roommates are like, 'Are you nuts?' They hate him."

"No, we don't," Liz says. "We just think he doesn't appreciate you."

"It's my libido. No matter what the brain says, it's always the libido. But I'm starting to like him a lot. I don't (continued on page 161)Coed Confidential(continued from page 72) have anybody else. Except Herbie Hand-cock," Kat says.

The band--whose members include PJ, one of Jen's current flings, and Matt, the guy Amanda has been scamming with--is butchering Pearl Jam's Alive. Kat, Amanda and Liz leave the table to do a lap around the bar. Jen stands at the edge of the dance floor and stares google-eyed at PJ playing guitar.

It's Michelle's turn for true confessions. She describes how she and Brad got together. "I met Brad through a friend. We started hanging out and getting totally wasted. One night we were mashing in a bar and I ended up staying over at his place. The next day I was like, 'Don't call me. I have a boyfriend.' We didn't talk for two weeks. But then we shacked again. I realized I was not happy with Sam if I was cheating on him. Everyone laughed when Brad got a girlfriend because he was such a player. Then he sent me a dozen roses over Christmas. We've been together ever since. I swear to God, you get a man in the working world and things change for the better. He brings me flowers and other stupid stuff. We'll wake up hung-over in the morning and he'll be like, 'Do you want some water?' He's completely grown up. Sam hates me now. He used to talk about raising kids. It scared the shit out of me."

For two years Amanda has dated Alex, who recently graduated and moved to St. Louis. She's also seeing Matt, the guy she took to the impromptu Wednesday night. Talk about bizarre love triangles. "Amanda recently started to realize that Alex doesn't make her happy. He doesn't compliment her or anything," Karen says. "But he has a good body, so she stays with him."

"She loves his body," Michelle adds.

Eight P.M.

While the band takes a break, Jen rejoins the conversation. "The first time I ever had sex it sucked. But it eventually got better," she says.

A friend of the girls' stumbles over. She's bombed. "Not all college girls have sex. I don't have sex because I'm not ready for the responsibility. I'm 19 and a half and I dated a guy for two and a half years. We had sex once, and we never talked again. He totally dicked me over. I felt like an asshole. But I must say, it's hard being 19 and a half and being a virgin. Very difficult."

"I'm 21 and I've had sex four times," Karen says. The night is taking its toll on her already down mood. "You want to know why? 'Cause I can't get any!"

Over in a corner, Amanda is fighting with Matt. She's using attitudinal hand gestures like a guest on Ricki Lake. He does not look pleased. She comes back and takes a swig right out of a pitcher. "I dumped him. The shit."

Liz pulls out a Marlboro. Amanda wants one too, and "so does Kat. They can't find a lighter so Liz bums a light off a guy at the next table, Amanda lights hers off Liz and Kat lights hers off Amanda. Ahhh. "Tell us about the time you flashed your tits at Mardi Gras," Amanda says to Karen.

"After I flashed, this woman said, 'Honey, will you show your titties to my husband again? He wants to take a picture,'" Karen says. "But you know what was even crazier? I saw some guy sucking another guy's dick. They were the most beautiful men I've ever seen. It totally grossed me out, but I just stood there and kept watching--I was in awe."

Sara covers her face in disgust. "Oh, come on, you guys!" Throughout the evening, she has sat saucer-eyed and closemouthed. She's clearly uncomfortable talking about sex, even when it involves her boyfriend, Dave.

Karen keeps going. "One guy was dancing and the other guy was on a stool. The second guy leaned back, lifted up a towel, and there was his huge dick!"

Nine P.M.

Last Monday around midnight, according to Jen, while she was studying for an exam, PJ and Matt stopped by to see if she wanted to go out. "I didn't go," she says. "Around three A.M. I hear my door creak open. PJ is crawling into my room, and he goes, 'Mind if I just pass out here?' I go, 'PJ, you live across the street.' He goes, 'I know.' His head hit the pillow and he started snoring instantly. I couldn't believe it. Later he tried to pull open the door, but my door opens the other way. He's banging and he can't get out and I'm like, Shit! He's gonna piss in my closet! The whole time, I had no underwear on. I never wear underwear to bed."

"Never?" Liz asks. "Don't you get scared that spiders will crawl up there?" "I thought that once, but a premed student told me the pH level in a vagina is not good for insect growth. I'm like, 'Oh my God, so what does that mean? They're gonna drop dead?'"

"The pH level in your vagina is not conducive to insect survival," Kat says, laughing.

Liz: "That's like when Jen had a yeast infection and she decided not to use Vagisil so she could have sex. She was like, 'I still itch but I want to have sex.'"

Jen: "That's why it kept recurring."

Kat: "Can guys get yeast infections?"

Jen: "They get penile irritation."

"Did Karen tell you guys that the other night Chuck didn't have on any underwear?" Liz asks.

Karen is quick to defend the potential man in her life: "What's wrong with that? I don't wear anything."

"You wear jeans without underwear? Doesn't your hair get stuck inside the zipper?" Christine asks.

"No, I cut mine," Karen says.

"Yeah, she trims it down," Liz says.

Kat: "I need to pay more attention to my bikini line. It's all shaggy."

The 11th pitcher arrives, the cups are refilled. Kat stands up and makes a toast. "This weekend my grade point average and my blood alcohol content are at competitive levels." Everyone clinks their cups, and Kat goes to the center of the room. She shimmies from the customer side of the bar to the employee side. Time for work.

Eleven P.M.

The night is young. The local superband is playing at a bar across town, so Jen, Christine, Sara, Amanda, Karen and Liz hop into two cars. Kat stays behind to bartend. Brad and Michelle head home for a quickie. The most sober of the six, Christine and Sara, are the designated drivers.

It pays to have connections. With Jen's name on the guest list, the $6 cover charge is waived for the Big Poppa girls. Miller Lite bottles in hand, they beeline to the outdoor tent. The band has started. Jen and Sara run hand in hand to plant themselves in front of Vic, the sax player and Jen's sometime paramour. It's high-energy blues and jazz that makes the crowd bop around. Jen, it seems, loves those music men.

After a few songs, PJ, who arrived with Amanda's Matt, slides up behind Jen and puts his arms around her waist. A look of panic crosses her face until she realizes Vic's eyes are closed and he can't see her anyway. And if slobbering all over each other is a sign of reconciliation, Amanda and Matt are an item again. The breakup lasted three hours.

Midnight

The next bar they hit is an upscale joint with mosaic tables and smooth cherry-wood floors. Christine works here--it's where she met John. He's been dubbed Roller Coaster Boy by her roommates because he's so wishy-washy about their relationship. One day he's into her, the next day he's not. Christine doesn't seem to care if she has a boyfriend. She's thin and witty, with pool-blue eyes. She could get lots of guys if she wanted. Liz, Sara, Christine and Karen belly up and order a round of Miller Lites. "There's Roller Coaster Boy. See if he'll give us free drinks," Karen says. He won't, Dick.

"Ooh baby! Mmmm. Oh, yeah. . . ." A girl in the middle of a group of guys is moaning and sucking on the end of her beer bottle. It triggers Liz' memory, and she straightens up to tell a story.

"Michelle and her ex-boyfriend Sam were at a ski lodge once. They were being really loud," Liz says as she eyes the glass blower. "The next morning, their neighbors were like, 'Oh! Sam!' making fun of them. Michelle was clueless. 'What are they talking about?'"

Karen: "Amanda says Michelle is loud with Brad too."

"I was loud with my boyfriend because I was comfortable with him," says Liz. Last summer, Liz and her ex-boyfriend Tom stopped having sex. Liz was worried about getting pregnant, but she didn't want to go on the pill.

It's time for John's break, so he and Christine sit on one of the couches. Rocky, a great-looking bartender with a chiseled face and pearly whites, comes over with another round. "What are you guys talking about?" he asks.

Karen: "Blow jobs."

"We were?" Sara asks. Karen gives her a just-go-with-it look.

"I prefer the nonteeth variety myself," Rocky says. "You don't have to swallow, just don't stop."

Karen: "When I'm in the mood, there's nothing better. But I don't like being forced down there." She pauses. "Does it hurt when we stop?"

Rocky: "It's not the pain factor. It's just that you're getting excited, things are going all right and then . . . . brrrr."

Karen: "Yeah, but I always feel like it takes forever. The guy is wasted and it takes a long time to get him off. I end up getting a sore mouth or lockjaw or something. At least when you're giving a hand job, you can switch hands."

Rocky laughs. "And another thing: Do not start the lawn mower."

"What do you mean? Don't pull it?"

"Yeah. Actually, no hand jobs, period. Because we can do it better, and we can do it any time we want."

"So your tip for a blow job is once you start, don't stop?" Karen asks.

what if something comes after? Can't you start a blow job and then have sex?" Liz asks.

"Oh, definitely." Rocky nods.

Sara is, of course, uncomfortable. "I'm not going to talk about this," she says.

A male eavesdropper comes up and announces, "In my experience, three out often girls do not like to receive oral sex. Why not?"

Karen: "I've never done it with someone I felt comfortable with. I always feel self-conscious. When you think about it, it's pretty gross. And guys don't know how to do it right." She turns around to confer with Sara, but Sara's gone.

One A.M. Saturday

"This is the last call for alcohol!" Couples are dropping like flies. Jen and PJ are back at the Big Poppa. Amanda and Matt haven't been seen since the slobberfest. Kat and Jack will undoubtedly end up together after work.

"Shit!" Liz says, noticing that Vic and the band have entered the bar and are on their way over. "Slight problem. What if Vic asks about Jen? I have to call her and tell her to send PJ home."

"Hey guys. Where's Jen?" Vic asks, not five seconds later.

Her roommates scramble for an answer. "Oh, uh, she went to get a burrito. She's meeting us back at the house because we're . . . uh, having after-hours and she had to clean up," Liz says.

Christine picks up on the story. "God, I hope we have enough beer for everyone," she says, with a fake smile.

Two A.M.

Crisis averted. Jen is alone on the couch, watching TV. Her hair and clothes are intact. PJ is gone. As the rest of the roommates arrive for after-hours, everyone has a job. Liz distributes cans of Bud Light, Christine orders two large pizzas and a double order of breadsticks, Sara uses another phone line (they have seven) to call Dave. She hasn't seen him all night. Jen gets up and pulls Karen into the bedroom. "I'm so glad you called. PJ knew I didn't want to get in trouble with Vic, so he left. It's not like much is going on with either of them."

Karen: "I freaked out when they walked into the bar--I had to call you."

Jen: "Vic asked if he could sleep over tomorrow night, and I said fine."

Three A.M.

Vic and his friends leave. Christine and Liz go upstairs to pass out. Karen calls Chuck. No answer. She goes to bed in her clothes. Jen goes into Sara's room, where Sara is putting on her pajamas.

"You know the weird thing?" Jen asks. "Vic's really good to me. He'll take me out for a nice dinner with appetizers and wine and good food and stuff," she says.

Sara: "That's so rare for a guy. So many guys think they can get away with just meeting us at a bar at midnight--that's so lame!"

When Sara goes to bed, Jen runs across the street to PJ's house to see if his lights are still on. A few minutes later, she's back. "No lights," she says.

End-of-the-night body count: six. Amanda and Kat are shacking.

10:30 A.M.

Amanda tiptoes through the front door, wearing the jeans and green cardigan she had on the night before. She finds Karen in the kitchen and slides onto a stool. "I wanted to go home so badly last night, but Matt wouldn't drive me. I told him at eight A.M. I wanted to leave. He was like, 'Five more minutes. . . .' I said, 'Five minutes will turn into five hours.' I don't even remember how I ended up at his apartment last night."

"Jen and PJ dropped you off there," Karen says, not letting Amanda play the victim. "You wanted to stay."

Amanda pauses. "I'd rather put up with Matt's shit than break up with him and be without. I understand what Kat's going through with Jack."

Karen: "Yeah, Jack calls the shots. It doesn't matter what Kat wants. When she starts to get fed up, then he'll do something nice."

Sara walks in. Amanda looks at her and asks, "Do you realize you're the only 100 percent faithful girlfriend out of all of us?" Sara shrugs.

1:30 P.M.

Kat wobbles through the door. She reeks of smoke, looks like hell and, like Amanda, is wearing the same clothes from last night. She can barely contain herself: "I swear to God, I want to have sex with him. I won't, but I want to." No one says a word.

Later, when Karen and Kat are in the car on their way to buy a keg for their party, Kat's still thinking about it." If I have sex with him," she says, "then I'm always going to want to have sex with him. I might get more attached than I already am, and I won't get anything in return. Or he'll be like, 'I'm done with you.' This morning was fun though. We did just about everything. Don't you hate hand jobs? I finished him off that way, though. Like the whole morning-breath, cotton-mouth thing. I started with oral sex but it hurt my throat because my mouth was so dry. So he came, and I wiped it on his jeans and he goes, 'Don't. I have to wear these to work tonight.' So we have to ask him what he spilled on his jeans. 'Toothpaste?' I'm really sore today. He will finger you for four hours in a row if you let him. Now I'm all loose and flappy," she says.

"Did he stop?" Karen asks.

"Yeah, for like a minute, and then he started again. I don't know what to make of him. Last night I could've been the only woman in the world. On other nights, I'm the last person on his mind."

Four P.M.

According to Amanda, Vic is in love with Jen. "He told Matt that he's head over heels. He wants to make you fall in love with him," she says.

Jen smiles. "I've told him a million times that this is senior year and I don't want a boyfriend. He knows. Maybe if I get a job in Chicago after graduation it will be different. I like him, and I've never had anyone treat me so good."

"By the way," Amanda asks, "why did you leave me at Matt's last night?"

"Leave you? You wanted to stay. You told us to leave, you fool," Jen says.

Six P.M.

"This is fucking heavy!" Kat yells. She and Karen are trying to carry the keg into the house. A car stops, and two nerdy frat boys hop out. "Hey, y'all need some help?" The boys run up and grab the keg. It's inside and tapped in a minute flat. "We're having a party tonight if you guys want to stop by," Kat says with an I-hope-we-never-see-you-again look.

Karen is trying to decide when she should call Chuck about the party.

"Call him at like seven," Amanda says.

"No, call him once the party is going," Sara chimes in.

"But what if he's gone out already?"

"You don't want to seem too desperate," Sara says.

Disregarding the advice, Karen slips into her room and shuts the door. She returns a few minutes later. "I called him and left a message to come over at eight. I told him to bring his friends." She starts jumping around. "I'm nervous! I don't call boys. I hate calling them!"

Eight P.M.

Amanda stumbles through the door. She and Matt just came from dinner at a Japanese restaurant. "She drank two big glasses of sake," Matt says nervously. Five minutes later, they are upstairs in Amanda's room, making out furiously.

"Oh fuck!" Liz yells, running into the dining room, where the rest of the girls are drinking. "I called Mike's answering machine. At the end I said, 'I hope to see you soon' instead of 'I hope to see you there.' Does that sound too anxious?"

"You know Amanda and Matt are totally going at it upstairs," Michelle says, changing the subject.

Kat: "This weekend, I've caught Sara having sex, I've caught Michelle having sex and I've caught Amanda macking with Matt. And by the way, Sara is loud!"

Sara turns bright red. "I didn't think anyone was home this afternoon. I thought Kat was sleeping."

The doorbell rings. It's Mike. Liz coyly walks to the door. "What's up?" Liz asks. They go into the kitchen to fill up his cup. Karen asks if he's heard from Chuck. Mike says he's at work and can't come. Karen is crushed.

Nine P.M.

Out on the porch, Kat lights a smoke. "I know my roommates don't like my situation with Jack," she says. "I don't like Amanda's situation with Matt, but I support her. Guaranteed, if Karen saw Chuck tonight, everyone would be like, 'Go for it!' but with me, they're like, 'stay away from him.' This morning was crazy. I'm so sore. He's got this new trick: While he's fingering me, he tries to touch my asshole. I'm like, 'Don't even! If you stick your finger in my ass, you'll start doing it to your brother, your dog, everyone." Liz and a crew of people come bounding onto the porch.

"Oooh--let's talk about anal," Liz says.

"I'm scared of it," Michelle blurts out. "I will not partake." She pauses. "All right, I might, but I won't like it."

"I did it once but it was an accident," says a new girl, a recent arrival.

"How can that be an accident? Were you drunk?" Liz asks.

"No. Swear to God, when it happened it was an accident. I thought I broke something, that's how much it hurt."

Kat: "Thank you. I agree."

Jen: "I've had a guy stick his finger up my ass before, and I just felt uncomfortable. All I was thinking the whole time was, OK, this is my ass, and there's shit up there. What are you going to do when you pull your hand out of there?"

Michelle: "For me, that's not even it. It's the pain factor."

Jen: "It doesn't hurt."

The new girl: "Don't tell me it doesn't hurt. After we did it accidentally, I was like, 'Don't ever do that to me again.' I was in pain for two days. I was scared that I wasn't going to be able to shit. I thought something was wrong."

Kat: "And you don't want to go to the doctor and be like, 'All right, I had anal sex, and now something's wrong.'"

Michelle: "I've heard from some other people that the first time's bad, but the second time's good."

Amanda and Matt walk in. "Where have you been, orgasm girl? You changed your clothes and everything!" Liz yells. Amanda just smiles.

One A.M. Sunday

Kat slips past the bouncers at work. Jack's at the bar, pouring drafts and smoking a Camel. Kat jostles up. "Hey," she says. He smiles. She looks down at his leg. "Is that toothpaste on your jeans?" "Ha-ha," he says. "What are you doing after work?" she asks. He shrugs. He gets paged over the loudspeaker. "Listen, I'll talk to you later, all right?" he says and walks away. She waits for ten minutes and leaves. "I guess I had my share last night," she says.

2:15 A.M.

Jen, Vic, Kat and Karen are back at the Big Poppa, trying to stomach a few more drinks. "I hate wasting all this beer," Jen says, referring to the three quarters-full keg. Karen checks the answering machine. No Chuck. Amanda staggers in with Matt and PJ.

"I need to pass out," Amanda slurs and half smiles. Matt rolls his eyes, chuckles and drags her upstairs.

Two pizzas and many breadsticks later, the night is officially over. Sara and Dave are fast asleep. Michelle and Brad are in Michelle's room. Jen and Vic, Christine and Roller Coaster Boy and Liz and Mike head for bed.

At the honk of a car horn, Kat grabs her coat. Jack has come to pick her up for a shack. "Don't wait up," she says.

"I won't," Karen says. She dumps out her beer into the sink and heads for bed.