Escape Plan | The Menories Journals

College parties can be crazy, but it gets crazier when there is no clear way out.

            Growing up my father instilled in me early on that success was defined by your education, job title, and salary. And the key to that? At minimum, a degree from a four-year university. University was something that was pre-selected for me from the moment of my conception, which also happened to be on a university campus. Education was so important for my father that from an early age I would get almost annual I.Q. tests, attempts to play memory enhancing games, as well as being given a surplus of books- ranging from children’s fiction to a book called, “The Big Book of Tell Me Why”.

 As a pre-teen, I had my eyes set on universities like Brown for my writing or U.C. Berkeley for business; however, due to some of my scholarly (or not so scholarly) habits, I would have to lower the bar a tad. While I wasn’t necessarily a bad student, I did tend to procrastinate, often letting my grades drop to an unsatisfactory “D” or “F” before finally feeling motivated to get those grades back up to my usual “A’s” and “B’s”. I also had a bad habit of not doing any of the required reading whether that be a text book or a classic piece of literature. I was only going to read what interested me or at least the bare minimum of any necessary reading. While for most this would lead to bad grades, I somehow skated by with the magic of basic common sense and lectures I had barely paid attention to playing faintly in the back of my mind. Regardless of my ability to quickly improve my grades and my half-hearted attempts in advanced placement classes, my G.P.A was never at the level it needed to be at for me to even be considered for a school like Brown or Berkeley. I lowered to my sights to a collection of state schools and one private school.

The actual idea of going off to college sounded fun and like a good escape plan out of my small town. In fact, I wanted to get so far away from my town that my first-choice school was a private school in a town that nearly hugged the Canadian border and was a good two states away from where I was in Northern California. I quickly put all my hopes for the future into the idea of this new school. Western Washington was the school that was most desirable to me, but that didn’t stop me from also applying to a handful of state schools in California as safety schools. Around the spring of my senior year, I started to get my acceptance letters. While all the state schools I had applied to had already sent me their acceptances, I anxiously awaited the arrival of the Western Washington application results.

The feeling of getting into your top choice school was a feeling that I had not experienced up until then. It was elation, excitement, anxiety, and pride all mixed into one new feeling. The feeling of not being able to go to your top choice school though was a whole other feeling. The excitement and joy of getting in was quickly squashed by the realization that I wouldn’t be able to attend and live out the dreams that had quickly manifested in my head. It didn’t make sense that I couldn’t go to my first-choice school. I knew college was expensive, I knew going out of state for college was more expensive, but I also knew that I was one of the fortunate kids who had parents that started a college fund for them when they were a baby. To me it seemed obvious- I got in to a great school that was decently rated on the list of good schools to go to (certainly higher than the other state schools I had applied to) and knew that I had at least some funds to kick start my education there. Little did I know that my college fund was being heavily guarded by the very woman who had spent that past year and a half making my life a living hell, my step-mom. Once I learned that in order to access my fund I would have to have a conversation with my dad and step-mom, I knew I was never going to go to my desired school and I would have to choose a school, in state, that I was fortunate enough that my mom and step-dad could help with instead.

I didn’t have a strong sense of what my second choice would be. While I had options- Chico, Reno, Humboldt, or San Francisco State, I didn’t feel a strong enough pull to any of the schools to make a firm decision. Instead, I leaned on my friend to help make my decision. She was passionate about Humboldt and made a strong case for it in the sense that it was supposed to be relaxed, easy, and full of stoners. On a whim, and with no real reason why, I decided to follow my friend to Humboldt State University. Humboldt was a decent school, mainly known for their advancements in agriculture. But they were mainly known for being in the heart of the Emerald Triangle, one of the largest producing marijuana areas in the United States, ensuring that each Humboldt student was a proud marijuana user. I didn’t have the passion for Humboldt that I had had for my first-choice school, but I promised myself that I would make the best of it and live out what I hoped would be my stereotypical college party years.

 

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As school started, orientation completed and classes beginning to rear up, I found it was easy to make friends. As freshman nearly everyone was looking for friendship, so as long as you had some similarities or even barely got along you could be consider people as friends. It was this line of thought that led me to being friends with Julia. Julia and I were next door neighbors, her dorm room sharing a wall with mine, and had an early morning math class together most days of the week. The friendship started with her bumming a cigarette off me in the designated smoking gazebo which led to us staring awkwardly at each either in class or on the walk to class, before we finally lamented and began to talk. She was a petite bubbly thing with a bit of an edge. She was a perky Malibu celebrity-adjacent party girl with a body full of Nirvana inspired tattoos. Julia was one of those effortlessly cool girls and being her friend often got me into trouble.

Parties at Humboldt were, like most college parties, a mess. The town was small enough that you could party hop, hitting a different party at every corner of the town, making sure to drag out the night long enough to get donuts at the late night pizza and donut shop that often had a line out the door. When I got to Humboldt and as I started to meet and connect with people, I quickly found myself being the plug, the person that people would go to in order to figure out either where the parties were or who to get alcohol from (only a few of the freshman students having fakes). This led me to have a plethora of party options nearly every weekend, and some week nights and I fully took advantage of that knowledge, dragging my friends to different types of parties in every which direction.

While I had partied a little my senior of high school and a lot after graduation, I had not experienced the level of drinking that happens at colleges. Not only was the amount being consumed a gross amount, but as new 18 year olds with little funds, we also drank the cheapest options. My drink of choice was often room temperature $5 vodka or the standard college concoction of Jägermeister and Red Bull. Alcohol was both a commodity and a necessity in these times. Most college parties were generous enough to lay out several bottles of miscellaneous alcohol or kegs of beer that were more of an open-bar situation, but there were some that were strictly B.Y.O.B. It was at those parties that I would get the drunkest, often taking pugs off random bottles of alcohol; mixing tequila, whiskey, vodka, and vermouth (a wild card).

It was a standard Friday evening the night that Julia and I would be trapped. After Julia and I started talking in class, we quickly became inseparable, soon calling each other cutesy nicknames such as, “Jules” and “Hales”, often being used in the sentence: “What are Hales and Jules up to?” That Friday afternoon we had blown off our last classes of the day and headed to the mall in the next town over to get our nails done. As the nail techs worked on our hands, we gossiped loudly before turning our attention to the growing list of parties that were planned for that night. Julia had been flirting with a senior on the football team and was firm in her plan of only wanting to go to his party that night so she could shoot her shot. I agreed, figuring there would be other cute athletes there for me to play with while she was off doing her thing. As we drove back to the dorms we strategized on how she should make her move and what would be the most effective way of approaching him. I told her that he was a college boy and that all you had to do was go ask if he wanted to be alone or go to a room or something insinuating that some sort of sex thing was going to occur. She nodded but seemed unconvinced and continued to fret over her best moves, outfit, and hair.

As the sun set and the stars came out, we began to make our journey to the first party. I had managed to convince Julia that hitting up at least one or two parties prior to her crush’s party would be more natural and with the help of the alcohol provided by the two other houses, would help us relax and be easy breezy. We took a last round of warm vodka shots in the dorm room before heading out to the smoking gazebo to convene with the rest of our group. The group moved loudly and clumsily, most of us already having had a good amount of alcohol, and worked our way through the twisting streets. While the town was small and you could walk everywhere, it was also full of hills, making the trek to distant parties an adventure; Humboldt State was also nicknamed Hills and Stairs University. We quickly learned that in order to maintain a good buzz, you’d often have to bring more alcohol on the walk with you. Resulting in a line of young adults stopping every few steps and slapping a plastic wine bag as they drank from the small spout.

The group arrived at the first house and quickly separated into pairs, Julia and I staying by each other’s side. Bobbing around the house, we looked for any drinks that were available, and swiftly dodged a few boys that had been annoying us in class. Within minutes, I could tell by Julia’s face she was done at this house and ready to see her boy. I pulled her hand so we could head back toward the keg when we were stopped by a random girl who invited us to a different house. “Jules. Please.” I pleaded with her. After a second of her looking distraught she nodded and we followed the random girl into a new group of strangers all on our way to the second party.

 The walk to the second party went faster than the first, alcohol distorting our reality of time and distracted by good company. The girl who had invited us now walked at my side and introduced herself as Ryan. As we drunkenly talked, the conversation had somehow turned into me offering the fact that I had pepper spray in my purse. She smiled, “Safe.” I agreed. Julia was dragging behind the group texting who I assumed to be the footballer. In my time with her I had come to know that she was someone with little patience and strongly preferred when things went her way. After a minute, she caught up with me, obviously unhappy.

“Hales, babe, we have to go right now. He’s waiting.” She whined. I paused and turned to look at her, annoyed that she was that pressed to go see some guy. Before I had a chance to answer, Ryan grabbed my shoulder and loudly exclaimed that we had arrived at the party.

“Hey, you guys are coming in, right?” Ryan asked sensing some tension. I looked toward Julia and drunkenly pouted holding up one finger signaling that I just wanted one more drink. She rolled her eyes but nodded. Ryan clapped and grabbed our hands, pulling us inside a crowded house. The music poured out of the house so loudly it was nearly deafening, the bass shaking the walls. Julia began to look even more upset.

We had been attempting to wander around the house, on the hunt for some kind of drink to make this party worth it. We had barely gone through two rooms when I was ready to give up and just go to Julia’s thing. I quickly turned around, facing her, “Okay, you got me. Let’s go. It’s too loud and it’ll be busted soon.” She let out a delighted squeal and did a little bounce before eagerly running out of the house, barely waiting for me.

As we exited the house, as if on cue, a cop car arrived, prepared to deliver the bad news of a shutdown party. Julia and I laughed as we quickly scurried away from the house. As we walked it fell silent for a minute before Julia softly said, “He said that he’s been waiting for me all night.” She smiled at me and I forced a smile back. I doubt that he had been, but if he was waiting then I was happy for her. Her mood instantly seemed lighter, ready to party and do what she had set out to do. His house was just a few streets away which I was grateful for as my feet already hurt from the short walks I had already done.

When we walked in Julia instantly began to scan each room, looking for her target. In her doing this, we quickly located a few warm kegs of beer and grabbed a cup. Unhappy with her search inside, Julia pulled me outside. At the bottom of the steps we were greeted by some of the members in our original party and instantly started to rehash the events of each person’s last party. I was talking about how I had called that the police would show up when Julia squeezed my arm and instructed me to turn around. As her grip tightened I could tell she was not happy with what she saw. There he was, the footballer, who had been waiting all night for Jules, was shockingly all over some other girl.

“F**k!” Julia exclaimed loudly enough for him to hear and look at her before she turned back in to the rest of the group. I could feel that she was about to blame me for delaying her from him but she was instantly stopped by another friend. She explained softly to Julia that he had been not only making out with that girl, but three other girls in just the time that my friend had been at the party. Julia looked heartbroken immediately. I couldn’t tell if she really liked the guy or if she didn’t like being rejected somewhat publicly.

My friend and I tried to console her for a minute before Julia declared that she would be fine, that she would just drink the “pain” away. While probably not the wisest move, I wasn’t going to be the one to stop her. The three of us raised our half empty red solo cups and clinked the thin plastic cups together, cheering the hopeful recovery of the night. Julia finished the rest of her beer like it was a shot and motioned for us to grab a refill. As we came back outside from getting another round, our friends began to say their goodbyes, claiming it was too late. Julia immediately shot me a look, meaning that we would not be going back the dorms yet.

With it being just the two of us, we quickly switched from sitting to dancing and badly belting whatever top 40 song was playing, the music a bit quieter than before. I could tell that Julia was attempting to look like she was having fun, but by the way she kept glancing at the still occupied footballer I could tell that she hadn’t successfully drank the pain away. I was about ready to coax her back to campus when two older looking students came up to us. There wasn’t much of an introduction, just a question if we smoked weed. One of the men quickly offered up his place, which so conveniently happened to be two houses over. After seeing the hesitancy on Julia and I’s faces he tried to sweeten the deal by promising us each a bag full of flower when we left. The thing about being in Humboldt is that weed was truly treated like a currency, often being offered either as a trade or as a bribe. I looked towards Julia, while I was ready to be home, she was a bit unpredictable. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. Right, Hales?” She shot me a look telling me to agree, I nodded distractedly.

The two men led us through a patch of ivy and several bushes before getting to the road and going a few doors down. I wasn’t sure why we went the way we did instead of the front door but I was instantly unhappy with this decision. Julia and I followed each other closely as the men led us into their home. When we got inside the first thing I noticed was how badly disarray the house was in. There was a heavily padlocked door at the top of a stair case, three dirty hamster cages, an aquarium with no fish, and a slew of crumpled, empty beer cans littered all over the furniture. I grabbed Julia’s arm, squeezing to let her know that this wasn’t going to be a fun, chill time. She shook my hand off and continued to follow the man leading us into a basement.

The basement was dark, stale, and instantly felt unsafe. It was a small room with a couch that was all but falling apart, a TV that still played VHS tapes, another hamster cage, and smoking paraphernalia scattered on a small, wobbly table. One of the two men volunteered to go grab some beer as his buddy got us “set up”. The man ushered us to sit on the couch, “Get comfortable.” He coached. I looked towards Julia again, hoping she finally was getting the feeling that this was not a comfortable situation. She maintained a stony face. The man fussed with the smoking pipes and other goods for a minute before realizing that he hadn’t brought any weed down to the basement/garage with him. He looked at us, paused and smiled for a minute before saying that he was going to run upstairs and grab some flower.

The minute that the man had left and closed the door, we had heard a loud click, almost like the man had locked the door. “Julia, we have got to go. I don’t like this.” I begged. I understood that Julia had had a hard night and was either too drunk to pick up on the situation or too emotionally drained to care. “There’s another door right there.” I pointed to a door that had three locks leading from the basement to outside. If this got bad we had to have another way out. 

“Oh my god, Haley, okay. Seriously.” Julia complained annoyed but complied by getting up and unlocking all three of the locks that had barred us from escaping. While she was standing at the door, working on the locks, we could hear the wood above us creak, like someone was walking towards the basement door. “Okay, fine, this may not be good.” She finally admitted after checking her phone and reporting that she had no signal. “I unlocked this door, if it gets worse I’ll just figure something out and we can find a time to run out.” Julia began to speak more frantically as she walked back and resumed her place on the couch as to not stir suspicion that we had been moving around. Were we really going to be able to just run out if worse comes to worst? Was that the smartest move, or even the only move?

Within a second of Julia sitting down, another click could be heard, a lock unlocking, and the man descended the stairs, rejoining us. He plopped a large plastic baggie full of weed on the table and looked at us expectantly, waiting for us to dive in. “So, how old are you guys?” My eyes big and pleading, I looked to Julia, hoping she would take that as a sign to find an escape route.

“Hello… Anna? Anna? Can you hear me?” Julia suddenly picked up her non-ringing phone, feigning a phone call and concern for an imaginary friend. She held the phone away from her mouth and apologized to the man before us, claiming that our friend, Anna, was sick and needed us back at the dorms immediately. Julia continued to speak into the phone, making imaginary Anna’s pleas for us to come back seem more and more desperate. “I’m sorry, I think we have to go.”

The man made a face, clearly unhappy with this change of events but remained cool. “I want to keep hanging out with you girls and my buddy will be back soon with the beer. I’ll drive you guys back to the dorms but then you have to come back here with me okay?” Julia and I looked at each other. It was an offer neither of us expected but regardless still didn’t want. “It’ll be cool, we’ll have a fun night.” The man continued to try and reassure us that this was indeed a fun night. I began to explain that Anna sounded like she was really sick and was probably needing us all night when Julia held up her hand to stop me.

“Actually, it would be really cool if you could give us a ride. We’ll come back with you after, no problem.” Julia said suddenly, surprising both the man and myself. The man quickly got up, he seemed to also be surprised by Julia's response, and said he was going to grab his keys then we could go. He turned to lead us up the stairs to the main house when Julia grabbed my hand and ran out the side door she had previously unlocked. While earlier I had thought it was a stupid plan, I was surprised it had kind of worked.

We thought we were in the clear as soon as we got out of the house, even going so far as to run an extra block away before slowing down, when a car drove past slowly, almost crawling to a stop. Julia and I stopped walking and watched the stopped car as the window rolled down, revealing the man from the house who then began to point and yell at us to get in his car. Instantly we began running; running in between and through large groups of other drunk students, running in between bushes, and ducking between cars. We had stopped, ducking behind a car, jumping from one car to the next as the man continued to peruse the streets when I remembered I had pepper spray. Thinking back, it would make no sense to try and use pepper spray against someone chasing you in a car, but drunk me thought it would be smart to spray it at the car. As I sprayed the car, the wind picked up and blew the devil spray back at me, instantly burning my eyes and forcing a few coughs. I could hear Julia laughing at me and while I could admit it was a hilarious situation, it was also a s****y one as now I couldn’t see well and was still worried about the man chasing us in his car.

“Haley? Julia?” the voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it for a second. As my vision slightly cleared I could see it was Ryan, the girl from earlier who had invited us to our second party that night. “Are you guys okay?” she was genuinely concerned about the two girls who had been ducking behind a car and spraying pepper spray in their own faces. Julia and I quickly broke down the story of the basement and the guy on patrol for us to Ryan and watched as her face grew more and more concerned. “Okay, well, this is actually my boyfriend’s truck, he can give you guys a ride, you don’t need to be out here.” She opened the door of the car we had been ducking behind as she spoke and guided us into it. As we buckled and prepared to drive off, we could see the man doing one more loop, trying to find us.

It was only a five-minute ride from campus and Julia and I quickly retired to the smoking gazebo. “So that was a night.” She exhaled, breathing smoke into the night. I nodded, relieved we were where we were and away from a locked basement. “I do wish he gave us that weed though.” I looked at her and the minute I did we began to laugh and couldn’t stop. It was only after someone yelled for us to shut-up out of their window did we go inside and go to our own rooms.

As I laid in my bed, I recounted the night. It had started off normal, almost uneventful. In my mind the most eventful thing that could have happened that night was police busting up a party which was almost always a given. I wasn’t sure why Julia had agreed to go with the guys. Maybe she was trying to have the footballer see her leave with someone or to distract herself from the rejection but either way I was unhappy with her decision. We shouldn’t have been in such a situation yet there we were and if it weren’t for Julia’s fast decision making of when to escape, I wasn’t sure where the night would have ended. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well if we stayed.

 It was a night that made me contemplate my actions and where I was both physically and mentally. It was one of the first nights that I questioned my decision of going to Humboldt. While being possibly trapped in a basement could happen anywhere, I realized I would have been very unhappy if anything were to happen to me and all I had experienced was Humboldt and my small town which were basically mirror images of each other. The feeling of disappointment and resentment soon filled me as I told myself that an event like this wouldn’t have happened at my first choice school (which was probably untrue) and I needed not just an escape plan from the garage, but an escape plan from Humboldt.

Author's Note

New story!

Reviews

[shadrach hah]

Hi Haley, this is a well-told story, starting with a young woman's dreams of college and leaving her home town, to a night, which ends in fear, in a college town. I was swept along with your story, from beginning to end I was enwrapped in your words. Never having been to a college or University, I know not the ways of the life so I have learned a little while reading today. Have a wonderful Wednesday. Hugs always....Mike.

[Haley]

Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it!

[shadrach hah]

You are welcome, Haley.

[Lydia Shutter]

"the plug" is an expression I had not heard before. You describe the hopes and dreams of a young woman so perfectly...wanting to be popular, but not realizing all the danger involved. Sure, your experience at Humboldt could have happened anywhere, but you were at Humboldt and you had to deal with your present situation. A very intriguing story. Well written. Is Julia still a friend of yours? Lydi**

[Haley]

It's a phrase that I started hearing around 2013, but I'm sure in slang it goes back much farther! Thank you so much for your kind words!

Julia and I are no longer friends. It actually wasn't too long after this party we had a friend breakup. She was seeing the same boy another friend was seeing and she wasn't happy that I told the other girl to be careful with the boy. It's for the best! :)