Page 2 of My Ex's Best Friend

“What the hell,” I mutter under my breath.

“Do you need help?” a deep, nasal voice asks. I look up to a guy leering at me. He has his palm over his crotch. “Are you lost, baby girl?”

“No, thanks.” A shiver passes through me.

I pick up speed and leave the creep behind.

This town is full of weirdos. And I’m thinking of applying to go here. I open the glove box of my compartment and see the letter waiting for me before I quickly shut it.

Hemmingway is nothing like California, where I’ve grown up. Instead of tall apartment buildings, there are matchbox houses.

I pass by a few fraternity buildings, as well, until I find the one Chris is in. It looms, a grand structure with faded red bricks and a towering façade that hints at decades of revelry.

The lights are on and the music coming from the house is loud even though I’m inside the car with all the windows up.

A party? That’s strange.

Well, it is a fraternity house, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I just hope he has great noise canceling headphones because this is ridiculous.

I walk past a few people strewn on the lawn, their expressions blank. Some are laid flat on the ground and staring at the sky. One guy runs past me, shirtless, with another guy chasing him.

I sidestep the very last second, my heart pounding in my chest.

Jesus.

The two of them don’t even wait to apologize.

As I step through the heavy wooden doors of the fraternity building, the pulsating thump of the beat hits me like a wave, reverberating through my body, matching my heartbeat.

The air is thick with the scent of sweat and the unmistakable tang of spilled beer.

This is not just a gathering; it's a full-blown party.

I take a hesitant step into the chaotic scene, scanning the room for any sign of Chris.

It's hard to focus with the colorful lights flashing, casting erratic shadows on the walls.

I spot a makeshift bar in one corner, where people jostle for drinks and shout their orders over the cacophony. Red plastic cups and spilled liquids dot the tables.

I’ve never been to a college party, much less a fraternity party. Holy crap, this place is wild.

Should I give up trying to surprise Chris? Maybe it’s best to tell him I’m here. What if he left to go work on his assignment somewhere else?

I could go upstairs to his room, but maybe I can find someone who can tell me if he is in or not, so I walk over to the kitchen, where it’s less crowded.

Luckily, I spot one of Chris’s friends. Henry is the very opposite of Chris. He keeps mostly to himself but he’s a nice guy. We only met a few times, but he warmed up to me easily.

“Kiera,” he says, frowning slightly before it quickly changes into a smile.

“Hey, Henry. Have you seen Chris?”

“He’s upstairs.”

“Second floor, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Thank you.” I’m already walking away waving goodbye to him.

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