Page 124 of The Friend Zone

A warm gust lands on my cheek. No, no. I like the cold tiles, what is this?

My brain tells my hand to swat this warmth away, but I doubt I have any control on any of my limbs.

All of a sudden I can’t even feel the floor anymore. Am I dead? Is it possible to die with just two drinks?

No, I can’t be dead. If I was, I think the nausea would have passed at least.

Maybe I’m on a boat? It’s the only explanation. It feels like I’m floating and I’m sea sick.

“Hey, everything ok?” A voice asks.

No, I’m not ok. The words don’t come out.

Someone else answers. “Yeah, she’s fine. Pounding too many margaritas.”

Another voice chuckles. “Or maybe your charming personality made your hookup fall asleep.”

What are they talking about? I’m not hooking up. Unless it’s the blond hottie, then sign me up.

“Fuck off,” the voice closest to me chuckles. It’s so close, it’s reverberating against my rib cage. “I should have kept her away from the booze. We were about to seal the deal.”

One of the other voices objects. “Ok, but if she passed out, where are you taking her? I hope you aren’t planning on trying anything. She doesn’t look in any shape to consent.”

The close voice sounds tense. “Worry about your own hookups, asshole. I’ll worry about mine.”

The third voice is angry. “Seriously, you can’t fuck an unconscious girl. You should go find Rachelle and let her deal with her future pledges.”

“I said I got it. Rachelle is probably upstairs with Travis. I know where this girl lives, I’m just taking her home. Nothing will happen to her. Get off my fucking case, will you?”

I hate arguing, it’s exhausting. I’ll let these people argue and just take a nap.

“Hmm.”

It takes me a second to realize that the pained moan is coming from me and not from a wounded animal.

“Ooh.” My mouth feels drier than ever and my eyes open after several failed attempts.

At first, everything is blurry. Then I realize that I’m in my dorm room.

How did I get here? The last thing I remember is that I was at the Rush Week mixer at the Gamma house and everything was going so well.

Did I get drunk? I recall cool tiles against my face, but it’s impossible. I’m pretty sure I had two drinks. I’m not someone who drinks a lot, but even I can take one glass of Champagne and half a watered down margarita.

I was determined to keep my wits about me last night. I didn’t go to the rush mixer to have fun. I was there on a mission. I needed to impress the Zeta president enough to get an invitation to pledge the most prestigious sorority on campus. This is why I turned down every offer of shots that came my way. For what I can remember, Rachelle promised me an invitation, so I achieved what I set out to do.

I close my eyes as a wave of nausea hits me like a freight train and I roll on my side just in case I’m going to be sick.

That’s when I see him.

There’s a man asleep on the floor a couple of feet away from my bed. Who is that? He has his back to me and all I can see is his dark hair, wide shoulders and a slender build.

Terror washes over me. I’m alone in my dorm room with a stranger. Where’s Tami? Right, fuck. My roommate is dating a sophomore and her boyfriend is renting an apartment off campus with his swim team teammates. Tami and I went to the rush mixer together, as she’s also rushing Zeta Theta Beta; but my roommate told me that she was going to spend the night at her boyfriend’s place.

So I’ve been alone with whoever that is on my floor for hours.

A terrifying thought hits me and I check my body. Thank God, I’m still in last night’s dress. Last night’s dress and a dark blue blazer. I touch the garment as if the expensive Italian wool could tell me who it belongs to.

Reassured by the knowledge that whoever brought me home didn’t try to undress me or do anything to me while I was unconscious, I clear my throat. “Hello?”

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