Page 56 of Jolt's Vengeance

Trevor's about as exciting as lukewarm porridge, but he's harmless enough.

And going to this stupid frat party with him beats sitting alone in my room, drowning in memories I'd rather forget.

"You've got this," I tell my reflection firmly. "Just a few hours of small talk and cheap beer, then you can come home and binge-watch trashy reality TV until your brain melts."

Grabbing my leather jacket and slipping on a pair of well-worn combat boots, I head for the door.

The sorority house is oddly quiet for a Friday night—most of the girls must already be out painting the town red.

Lucky them.

As I make my way down the stairs, my roommate Sienna pokes her head out of the common room. "Hey, girl, heading out?"

I pause, torn between wanting to spill my guts to my best friend and maintaining the tough-as-nails facade I've so carefully cultivated.

"Yeah, that party at Trevor's frat house. Should be a real rager," I deadpan, unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into my voice.

Sienna's brow furrows with concern. "You okay, Ags? You seem a little... off."

For a split second, I consider telling her everything.

About the memories haunting me, the weight of the past pressing down on my shoulders.

But I can't bear the thought of her pity, of being seen as weak or broken.

So I force a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "I'm fine, just not looking forward to making small talk with Trevor's meathead buddies all night. Save me some ice cream for when I get back?"

Sienna doesn't look entirely convinced, but she nods. "You got it. Text me if you need an emergency extraction, okay?"

"Will do. Don't wait up!" I call over my shoulder as I head out into the warm Vegas night.

The walk to Trevor's frat house isn't long, but with each step, I feel my walls breaking down.

What the hell am I doing?

I don't even like Trevor, let alone want to spend an entire evening surrounded by his drunken bros.

But I made a commitment, and if there's one thing Grim—my step-father and the only real dad I've ever known—taught me, it's the importance of keeping your word.

Even when it sucks.

As I approach the frat house, the thump of bass-heavy music grows louder.

Red solo cups litter the front lawn just like the last time, and the porch is crowded with people laughing and shouting over the din.

It's your typical college party scene, but it feels a world away from the life I left behind in Billings.

I spot Trevor on the porch, surrounded by a group of his frat brothers.

He's nursing a beer and laughing at something one of them said.

When he catches sight of me, his face lights up in a way that makes my stomach churn with guilt.

He may be as boring as watching paint dry, but he doesn't deserve to be strung along.

Trevor calls out, waving me over enthusiastically. "Aggie! You made it!"

I paste on what I hope passes for a genuine smile and make my way through the crowd. "Wild party, huh?"

---