Page 11 of Hate To Love You

Later that night, the Elite house is filled with drunk people I don’t know, blaring music, and utter chaos. It may be a Wednesday night, but I guess no one really cares.

I grab a beer from the kitchen and join Holland and Patrick in the living room where a couple is making out on the couch. Well, more like dry humping. I scan the room for Mason but he’s not here, and Logan’s at his girlfriend’s dorm tonight according to the text I received about an hour ago. Him and Adrianna have been dating since they were in high school. They’re practically inseparable.

The stench of cheap beer and sweat linger in the air as I walk through the crowded rooms and small hallways searching for Mason. He tends to get himself into trouble, a lot. Honestly, Holland should really be the one babysitting his cousin, but it seems like he might already be wasted.

I don’t drink too much, but I’ll have the occasional beer when we go to the bars or at a party, maybe do a shot or two, especially when I’m stressed. Like right now.

I’ve never been big on the feeling of being out of control. I enjoy being aware of my surroundings. I’d also rather not wake up feeling like I got hit by a bus.

Amidst the sea of dancing bodies and laughter, I spot Mason. He’s got a girl pressed up against the wall, her head tilted to one side while he kisses and sucks on her neck. His hands are wandering all over her body and she looks like she’s loving every second of it.

Mason’s hand squeezes the girl's breast and then moves to the back of her head, pulling her hair so hard she yelps a little.

I make my way over to them and clear my throat loud enough so he’ll hear me.

Mason pulls away from the girl, her face is flushed, and she looks slightly embarrassed. I would feel bad if not for the fact that they were literally just tongue fucking against a wall during a very crowded house party.

“Oh, hey man. I was just-” I look behind him to the girl who is slightly trembling.

“Can you give us a minute?” The girl looks to Mason, then back to me and nods, adjusting the strap of her top that had fallen down her arm. With one more look, she waves shyly, walking down the hall and disappearing around the corner.

“That’s Candace. She’s-” I don’t let him finish because I don’t give a fuck who she is.

“Dude, what did we talk about? No hooking up with girls at the parties. Especially when there’s alcohol involved. If we get written up again, they’ll shut us down.”

Mason looks down at the ground, avoiding my gaze. He knows I’m pissed.

Last year, the Elite had a big scandal, and it hasn’t quite been forgotten yet. One of the juniors hooked up with a girl at a party near Halloween. Apparently, the girl was really drunk, and the junior knew but still took advantage of her.

Turned out the girl was the Dean’s stepdaughter. Needless to say, the situation didn’t end well. The school took it really seriously, as they should, and threatened to shut us down if anything like that happened again.

Since then, all the guys have agreed that we can do whatever or whoever we want on our own time, but there would be no hooking up if there were drinks on the premises. Of course, some of the guys griped about it, but we can’t risk getting the Elite shut down.

Mason nods, his face resembling a sad puppy. I pat his shoulder. “Come on, I think Austin and Teddy set up beer pong.”

Austin and Teddy are freshmen. They’re cool guys, much less annoying than most of the others.

Two rounds of beer pong later and I’ve had it. I’m more drunk than I’ve been in a while, and I hate it. I want to go to bed, but there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep with all the noise. It’s not even midnight and I’m exhausted. I make my way over to the now empty couch and plop down, resting my head on the back.

Patrick lands next to me a few seconds later, draping his arm around my shoulders and disrupting my alone time.

“Done already?” he mocks.

“Yeah, I’m ready to call it a night,” I say, running my hands down my face.

“You okay?”

“I’m good,” I lie.

The room is starting to spin, and I know I need to lay down. I stand from the couch, slapping a hand on Pat’s shoulder a few times before stalking up the stairs to my bedroom.

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After my shower, I feel a lot better. I no longer feel like I’m on a boat, and my head feels less full. I yank on some athletic shorts and finally lay down.

My thoughts are racing, and oddly enough, I’m not thinking about my father and our talk. I’m not thinking about his disappointment or his veiled threats.

What I am thinking about is a feisty brunette who clearly despises my very being. I honestly don’t know what possessed me to agree to such an asinine arrangement with her.

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