Poinsettia Pete

I love parties. Parties in college are my ultimate love. They have different themes, you meet interesting people, and you meet interesting cute guys.  My friend *Fanny* lives on the spur of the moment and her parties stayed true to their theme, from the usual ugly sweater party to a disco party with disco music! This may not matter but once in junior high, I went to a “Decades” party advertising disco balls and Michael Jackson where in actuality was a taupe multipurpose room with a fog machine and terrible late 90s rap. 

Fanny’s latest shindig was a “Christmas in July” party. The dress code was to be jolly and yuletide.  As I entered *Fanny’s house, it was wrapped in red and green Christmas lights, plastic Santa glow statues, silver tinsel on the floor, red ribbon bows all over and “Jingle Bell Rock” playing in the background. The guys were dressed in their Christmas Cosby sweaters or red/green shirts. The girls wore red or green dresses or the usual Santa or reindeer hat with regular summer dresses. I had on a Christmas green sparkle mod minidress that I had never worn and was excited to see my friends from school. I had just seen Inception and was eager to chat about the film on what had been a hot summer day turning into a great summer night.

Throughout the party, there were a-many cute guys, but the one who happened to be allegedly staring at me was Poinsettia *Pete*. Remember that nickelodeon snickcom from the 90’s “The Adventures of Pete and Pete?” He looked just like older Pete but with cuter eyes. He even had the same haircut now that I think of it, with a darker hue of red hair. He was wearing a USC red shirt, jeans and a poinsettia behind his ear.  I found it funny that he had a poinsettia on his ear and it reminded me of pagan Rome for some reason. I remember me and my friends were chatting it up with some guys who I found interesting but no potential for anything. A friend of mine was disappointed that her “Santa” hat fell off so she gave it to me to wear. Me, dressed in Christmas glitter green with a red Santa hat on, I wish I knew how I looked. Cute? Stupid? An Idiot? Whatever I conveyed, I attracted *Pete*. 

The night went on with Christmas covers by the Muppets, Kinks, and Run DMC. The usual craziness of people chatting, dancing, and making out in public happened as always. All this time, *Pete* would just pass by me, eye-ing me as I could see from the back of my eye as I chatted on. I still speculate that he may or may not have noticed me but a piece of evidence I vividly remember was while chatting, *Pete* and his friend climbed the roof of the house to take a look at the far away skyline. Everyone was cheering and as I waved at them,*Pete* waved back and suddenly my skills as lip reader came to me unbeknownst.  “Who’s that (something)?” I heard his lips say to his friend and he in reply said, “One of *Fanny’s* friends.”  He said either “Who’s that Girl?” or “Who’s that Person?” but the point being   they probably were talking about me. Probably. Where did  I F it up as they say? The time came for him to leave and it’s all a little blurry (because it hurts to remember) but all I can remember are fragments,him saying goodbye to *Fanny* then coming back to talk to my guy friend, apparently they had talked during the party, and then another painful memory of him just standing there, looking cute with his possibly fake poinsettia, looking at me, waiting for me to say something. It was perfect, “Hey I like your poinsettia!” simple compliment that could’ve started something; he’d compliment me looking like Christmas cheer and the story writes itself. But not for Hope, he went again to *Fanny* to say goodbye and left.  Last I heard he went to study in England. My friend *Fanny* who could never stay in the same place, went off to conquer the southwest with her charm, and that night as the cops came to shut the party down because we played Bing Crosby a little too loud, all I could think, how I still think whenever I see poinsettias during Christmas time, how stupid I was for not talking to him. There really should be a diagnosis for my predicament.

*= names changed to spare embarrassment and to protect the innocent and cool.