Eww.
Demi gives me a little side-eye. “Maybe we should just walk in?”
“Probably.” We slip inside while their mouths are still fastened. “I think Rowan needs to find someone a little more dedicated to his job.”
Demi snorts. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”
We don’t get more than four steps inside the packed first floor when someone wraps their arms around Demi. That someone—in case you’re wondering—is Rowan. A smile springs to her lips as he moves in for a kiss.
And that would be my cue to leave.
You would never know it from Demi’s behavior that there was a time in the not-so-distant past when she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with Rowan. It’s almost amazing how much has changed in such a short span of time.
“I’m going to grab a much-needed drink,” I shout, attempting to be heard over the pulsing beat of music. “You want anything?”
It’s not a surprise when Demi shakes her head. She’s never been much of a drinker. With a shrug, I take off through the mass of students packed in here like sardines. Is it too much to hope that we only have to stay for thirty minutes before taking off? I’m sure there are a ton of other parties happening around campus. I’d rather be anywhere but here. Plus, I’m actively trying to avoid Brayden, and that’s difficult to do at his own house.
At this point, it’s become a game.
Let’s see how long it takes for him to track me down. Fingers crossed he’ll grow bored and move onto easier prey.
I pass by the congested living room on my way to the kitchen. I wave and say hello to a couple of people I recognize. A handful of my teammates have shown up to help celebrate the victory on the turf this afternoon. They don’t care which Wildcat team won, they’re just happy to toss back a few drinks and get their party on. And then there are two girls I recognize from my classes. I’ve been here enough times to know that a makeshift bar will be set up at the back of the house, stocked with cheap liquor. I’m looking forward to an icy cold drink. Normally, when I’m out, I’ll have a beer or two, but tonight calls for something more potent.
We’re talking shots.
After five minutes of fighting my way through the unwashed masses, I’ve almost reached my destination. Just as the brightly shining beacon that is the keg comes into sight, a girl with long, tawny-colored hair steps in front of me, effectively blocking my way. Since there are so many people crammed in the space, I don’t think much of it. As I try to sidestep her, she quickly shadows the motion so I can’t move past. When I slide in the opposite direction, she follows suit. That’s when I realize that this chick is deliberately messing with me.
What the hell?
I give her a quick once over. Other than looking vaguely familiar, I have no idea who she is. What I do know is that she’d better move her carcass before I lose my shit. I’m not in the mood to mess around.
Not tonight.
“Excuse me,” I raise my voice over the pumping music, “I’m trying to get through.”
“Is your name Sydney?”
“Yeah.” With a frown, I search her face more carefully. That’s when recognition hits. This girl is in one of my classes. Coincidentally, it’s the same one I have with Brayden. Accounting. I’ve never spoken to her before, but I’ve noticed the way she hangs all over him. It would be hard not to. She’d probably crawl into his lap and burrow there if he allowed her to do it. Her behavior has always struck me as needy and clingy. Although, Brayden is such an attention whore, I’m sure he gets off on it.
Eww. I just vomited in my mouth. The last thing I want to think about is what Brayden gets off on. I shift my stance, willing away the horrific image.
Before I can ask any further questions, she says, “I was wondering if we could talk for a few minutes.”
Talk? About what? I don’t even know this girl.
“You want to speak with me?” With a frown, I press a hand to my chest as the party continues to rage on around us. “Why?”
Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips as she sidles closer. “I wanted to discuss the Brayden situation with you.”
The Brayden situation?
What is she talking about?
More strangely than that...how am I involved in it?
Is this chick drunk? Maybe high?
I tilt my head and scrutinize her pupils. I’m not a medical professional, but they certainly don’t look dilated, and she doesn’t smell like a brewery. I do a careful sniff test. There’s no skunky scent permeating from her either.
Well, I’m stumped.
“Just to be clear, there is no,” I use my fingers to make air quotes, “Brayden situation. Honestly, I’m not even sure why you’d want to discuss the guy with me.”