New Year's Baby Girl (A sequel to 'Santa Girl's Secrets')

Read the previous story with these characters here. 

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I was only fifty percent sure I’d come to the right house party.

The thing about the strip of frat and sorority houses on campus was, nearly all of them had some kind of celebration going on. My grasp of the Greek alphabet was shoddy at best, and so when I came upon the Alpha Beta house, I couldn’t be confident it was where Emily had told me to go.

‘Right on campus, just look for the New Years party,’ she had texted me. ‘You can’t miss it–see you there at 11?’

She had deeply underestimated my ability to get lost on a single one-block stretch of road.

I picked a house and entered. A bare-chested guy at the door opened it, halfway through a beer and smelling like he’d already drank several.

“Uh…” I said. “Alpha Beta?”

“WOOO!” he replied, toasting with his cup.

Uncertain if that was a yes or a no, I crossed my arms over my chest and entered. It boggled my mind how he could be shirtless and not be cold, even inside–as often as the front door was opening and closing, a cool draft had begun to billow.

Taking position in a corner out of everyone’s way, I texted Emily again. ‘I think I’m here? A drunk guy let me in.’ She responded with a hand-over-face emoji, which I couldn’t for the life of me parse, so I added, ‘Are you here?’

‘You’ll see me soon, just don’t tell anyone.’ Her reply was as cryptic as the emoji.

I hadn’t seen her since our first meeting, though we’d chatted a few times. My proposal, to finally take her out on a proper date, had been countered with an invitation to this party. While I’d have preferred something more private–a little time together, just to chat and get to know each other–I accepted. Parties weren’t my thing, but I’d been trying to get out more, and this seemed like a good opportunity.

I played the part of the wallflower for a solid ten minutes, waiting and watching for Emily, resisting the urge to just bury my face in my phone. I didn’t know anyone, and all the other partygoers were standing in various enclaves, friend groups that I’d never be able to pierce. In a one-on-one conversation, or maybe a game night, I’d have had a good shot at endearing myself to them. In a situation like this, where they moved in packs, I had no chance of picking off a straggler for conversation.

Then I saw her–coming down the frathouse stairs, she looked utterly stunning. Her top resembled a sort of halfway between a toga and a shirt, white and billowy, and overtop it she had a blue sash with the year written on it with big, bold letters. She’d adorned her head with a fancy top hat, which almost completed the look, but to cap it all off…

My eyes drifted down to her waist, where–completely visible for the world to see–she had on a puffy cloth diaper, held in place with a comically large baby pin.

She’d dressed up as Baby New Year, and she looked the part–chubby and adorable, with an enthusiastic smile that almost pulled my gaze away from the diaper-shaped elephant in the room.

(How is she not cold?) I wondered.

I tried to walk up to say hi, but was overwhelmed by a dozen other partygoers–friends of hers, I had to assume–getting in the way. Compliments on her costume, and general greetings. She made eye contact with me and beamed, but still had to work her way through the thick of acquaintances before she could get to me.

Finally, though, she broke free. “Sam, you came!”

Eyes wide, I responded, “You’re wearing a–”

“New Year’s costume!” she replied, cutting me off. “I just love dressing up for the holidays.” A wink told me everything I needed to know, and I mentally slapped myself for not thinking about discretion.

“Well, you look great.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, awkwardly fishing for something to say. Looking down at my own ensemble–jeans and a sweater–I said, “Now I feel a bit underdressed, honestly.”

“Everyone else is just in casual clothes,” she said, glancing around the room.

(Yeah, but I’m not here with everyone else,) I thought. Knowing better than to stuff my foot in my mouth quite that hard, I said, “So are you in this group? The Alpha Betas?”

“No,” she giggled. “This is a frat house, silly; I’d be in a sorority. I’m just friends with some members.”

“Oh, right. I–” As I spoke up, music began to thump, and one of the frat bros cheered so loudly I forgot what I’d been saying. “So–how was your Christmas?” I asked.

“What?” she replied, raising her voice over the music.

“How was your Christmas!” I repeated.

“Yes!” she replied, nodding in time with the thumping bass.

I could only assume she’d misconstrued my question, so I repeated, “No, how was your Christmas!”

“OH!” she said. “It’s kind of loud! Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Nodding, I waited for her to lead the way, ultimately moving towards the kitchen where beer, soda, and snacks were laid out. A bowl of cherry red punch sat in the middle, and I eyed it, wondering if it was alcoholic. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, I went for the soda.

“So–” I started again. “Did you–”

“Emily!” someone squealed, and Emily looked over her shoulder to see another girl her age rush up and just about tackle her with a bear hug.

“Deirdra!” Emily replied, half-returning the embrace. “How’ve you been?”

The two of them fell to chattering, and I shrank back again, waiting for the conversation to pass. They exchanged chit-chat and a few short bits of gossip, before Emily added, “Oh–this is Sam, my friend!”

“Oh yeah?” Deirdra asked, turning her gaze to me. “How did you two meet?”

Grateful for the segue into the conversation, I started, “Well, Emily was doing a fundraiser for the animal shelter, and–”

Dierdra seemed to be listening intently, for a couple seconds at least, until I got about a sentence in. By then, though, a guy had come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a hug.

“Guess who?” he asked, snickering.

“Dummy,” Dierdra responded, rolling her eyes. “You’re supposed to cover my eyes and ask that, Brad.”

Brad moved his hands up to her eyes. “Guess who?”

They both snickered, and I shrank back once again. It didn’t really matter how we’d met.

The three of them–Deirdra, Brad, and Emily–exchanged a bit more conversation while I drained my first cup of soda. Finally, as I refilled my cup, Emily checked her phone, and I thought the conversation with the couple might be ending. Hoping to get a chance to ask her about her choice of costume–or about anything, really, I started to open my mouth.

Before I could, she brightened. “Bee’s here! Sam, you have to meet Bee.

“B?” I asked. “Like, the letter?”

“It’s got a couple ‘E’s,” she replied, smirking. “Come on!”

I again followed her, back to where the music was thumping, all the way out to the porch, where I once again found myself wondering, (Is nobody else in the world cold except me?)

Bee was, it seemed, a cheerleader or something. I pegged her as athletic at a glance–nobody got that toned naturally–and an exchange with Emily confirmed something about ‘the team’ and ‘the game’.

The sounds of conversation and thumping music that filtered from inside were draining my focus by the time Emily prompted me in the conversation. This time, I managed to at least finish recounting the hot chocolate fundraised, and my save with the cups, though my ability to tell a compelling story had been blunted somewhat by social fatigue.

To her credit, Bee at least had the courtesy to smile and nod her way through it before politely changing the subject to something she found more interesting.

I got the point. Casually excusing myself to the bathroom, I made my way through the thick of the partygoers once more, noting the time–fifteen minutes to midnight.

The line for the bathroom was four drunks deep. I sighed. My dorm was only a short walk, and I could tell when my company wasn’t wanted.

Taking out my phone, I texted Emily, ‘I’m going to head out. Happy New Year.’

Rather than attempt navigating the party once more, I ducked out the back door and walked around the frat house. It added thirty chilly feet to the walk, but was better than the noise and the chaos, and before long, I was on the sidewalk.

A little part of me felt disappointed, but I shoved that down and spoke reason to myself. I could tell when I wasn’t wanted, and–

“Sam!”

I turned, looking back at the scantily-clad New Year’s Baby in front of me. Unsure what else to do, I waved. “Hey.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked, walking away from the house.

“Yeah, just–parties aren’t really my thing,” I said. “I figured I’d stop making you babysit me.”

She snickered, assuming I’d been joking. “Pun intended?”

“Not really.” I shrugged. “I just…I feel like I should go.”

Emily didn’t quite frown, but her smile faded into disappointment. “Did something happen when you went to the bathroom?”

I shook my head. “Nothing like that, just…I wanted to spend time with you. I don’t know anyone here, and they don’t really want to know me.”

She took a step closer towards me, onto the sidewalk. “These are my friends. I’m sure nobody was trying to ignore you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” I shook my head. “It’s not, like, an intentional snub, it’s just that they don’t know who I am, and they’d rather hear what you, or Brad, or whoever else have been up to–the people they care about. I’m not interesting enough for them to care about me, and I don’t have the energy to try and convince them otherwise.”

“It didn’t seem like that when we met.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“That was different.” I pressed my lips into a line, searching for the words.

Her face took on a slightly weary aspect. “Because I was wearing a diaper, and they aren’t.”

I frowned. “No, because I wasn’t competing for your time; I wasn’t trying to shout over music or being interrupted every time I open my mouth. I like that we have that…shared interest, I guess, but that’s not why I came here. I’m here because I thought you were funny, and kind, and I liked that you work to make the world better–none of that’s affected by what’s in your pants.”

She didn’t have a response for a moment, and guilt hit me in that pause between words. I swallowed.

“I’m sorry,” I started. “I’m just…not good with crowds, or parties, and–”

“No, I’m sorry,” she responded, shaking her head. “I didn’t even think. I just…in my head, I knew hanging out would be fun, and the party would be fun, so I assumed doing both would be more fun. I didn’t think how it would be for you.”

I exhaled through my nose in a not-quite laugh. “I wish the math worked out that way.”

She gave me a little half-smile. “Want to call tonight a mulligan and try again some other day? Just me and you next time. No competition.”

“I’d like that,” I said, shivering. I needed to either go back inside or go home, I was getting cold.

Stepping closer, Emily got close to me. “Can I give you a kiss?”

All my frustration with the evening vanished. A blush rising up my cheeks, I said, “Um–yeah. Yes.”

Emily gave me a hug, and planted her lips on mine, and we kissed. With her arms wrapped around me, for that moment, I felt warm. And, while our lips were together, I heard cheers from inside the party, raucous excitement.

She pulled back, eyes sparkling at me. I was just trying to recover my senses.

“Sounds like I’m late,” she said, gesturing with her eyes down to her costume. “I’d better get inside, but…Happy New Years, Sam.”