Page 51 of Before I Loved You

My eyes sting with unshed tears as my heart cracks, my chest tightening to the point of unbearable pain.

“No, Paul. Please forget everything I said to you the other day. Okay? I didn’t mean it. I was just…not in the right headspace. But please stay where you are. I’m leaving now.”

Fifteen minutes later, I park in front of the frat house with a horrible feeling in my gut. Cars are lined up and down the street on both sides, and people are filing in and out as music blares from the large house. I hadn’t been to this house in a few years and had planned on never returning.

But I’m here for Paul. That’s it. Nothing bad will happen this time.

I’m in control.

Just as I’m about to leave my car, I realize I might need assistance, so I grab my phone.

Sarah

I need your help. I think Paul’s in trouble. Can you meet me at the Kappa Alpha house?

Nate

I’m on my way.

Walking inside the house, I’m immediately assaulted with anxiety. This was the house that changed me. And not for the better.

People crowd every square inch of this place, shoving past me as I make my way inside, with drinks in their hands that conveniently dribble onto me.

“Back the fuck off,” I shout at one guy who walks right into me, too drunk to realize I’m standing in front of him.

He leers down at me before side-stepping around me, eventually swaying into the wall.

Shaking my head, I walk farther into the house until, after what feels like forever, relief fills me as I spot Paul sitting on a chair in the corner of the large room. That relief quickly dissipates as I notice his head lolled to the side, a nearly empty bottle of vodka in his hand, and…a girl sitting on his lap.

What the actual fuck?

Fury radiates through me as I approach them, never letting my eyes look elsewhere. But the closer I get to Paul, the more I notice the subtle hints of how incapacitated he is. His eyes are red and glossy, his eyelids are barely open, and his tongue keeps poking through his lips, appearing as though he can’t feel it at all.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I place both hands on my hips, sneering at the girl who looks way too comfortable on Paul’s lap as her hand rubs over his chest. Her bright pink dress does nothing to contain her store-bought boobs.

“Who the fuck are you?” the girl questions, appearing pissed off at my interruption.

“Sarah,” Paul slurs, trying to sit up but barely able to move.

“I’m here for him,” I respond, my nails digging into the palms of my hands. “So I suggest you remove yourself before I do it for you.”

The girl laughs.

She. Fucking. Laughs.

“Paul doesn’t seem like he wants me to go. In fact, he seems pretty content with me staying right here.” She pats his chest and places the side of her head on his shoulder, a smug smile creeping on her face.

“He’s clearly not in his right mind.” The anger inside me boils beneath my skin as my body shakes with adrenaline. “This is your final warning. Remove yourself before I have to do it for you.”

“Umm…I don’t think so.” Her hand slides dangerously low on Paul’s chest. “I think we’re going to move this private party upstairs to one of the bed—”

I don’t think.

All I see is a haze of red when I grab her by her hair, dig my nails into her scalp, and pull her off of Paul, watching with satisfaction as she stumbles to the floor on all fours.

Her bleach-blonde extensions, now ripped from her head, remain in my iron-clad grip.

She looks up, scowling at me. But that dreadful grimace falters as her eyes widen, noticing what I have in my hand. Her hands repeatedly tap the top of her head, and a horrified scream slips from her lips as she jumps up on her feet. “You fucking bitch!”

---