A troupe of girls, all holding hands, pushed by Hannah and Amelia, giggling and only paying attention to each other. They all wore tight mini dresses with the aim to squish their boobs as close to their necks as possible.
Hannah tugged at her borrowed cropped top, still feeling underdressed.
“Bryce,” Amelia shouted over the music. She took Hannah’s hand and dragged her across the room. They pushed and shoved their way through the crowded hall into the living room where a boy stood beside a fireplace.
“Bryce!” Amelia said. She thrust her arms around his neck and balanced the solo cup in her hand. “This is Hannah. My roommate.”
There was nothing about Bryce that was too exceptional. Medium-length blond hair, light grey eyes, and tan skin, as if he had been at the beach all summer.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to Hannah. She couldn’t remember the last time she shook someone’s hand, especially with people her own age. He nodded, then redirected his attention to Amelia. “So happy you came.” His grin grew as he gazed at Amelia.
On first impression, he came across as a decent guy. Like maybe he should have been named Peter or Robert.
“This is my roommate, Landon,” Bryce said. He nodded to the boy beside him. Landon was a bit taller than Bryce, but dressed similar in khaki pants and a button-down with the top few undone.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. He shook Hannah’s hand. Everything about him was warm. His light brown eyes, sandy brown hair, his smile, his voice, and even his grip.
“Yeah, you too,” she said.
“Would you like a drink?” Bryce asked Amelia.
And even though Amelia held a full cup in her hand, she eagerly agreed. Together, they disappeared into the party.
Hannah shifted in place, transferring her gaze between Landon and over her shoulder to where Amelia had abandoned her. She pressed her sweaty palms together as her shoulders climbed towards her ears.
“You okay?” Landon asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Hannah said. “It’s just—she basically dragged me here…”
“You didn’t want to come?” Landon asked.
“No. I did. Of course, I did.” Hannah bobbed her head up and down more times than necessary. “Just haven’t been to many parties lately. Feeling a bit rusty.”
“Well, you’re doing fine.” Hannah wondered if Landon was actually interested in talking to her, or if he was trying to figure out a quick exit plan. Part of her would be okay if he left her alone. She could slip out without anyone noticing and escape to her room for some peace and quiet.
However, that was not what normal college kids were supposed to do. They were supposed to be social, meet new people, and drink. Hannah took a sip of the mystery liquid and immediately regretted it. Her face twisted in agony.
“Not good?” Landon chuckled.
“What is this? It tastes like gasoline and cinnamon.”
“Not a big drinker?”
“No, that’s not it,” Hannah said as she struggled against the awful taste in her mouth. “I’m from Sonoma, so I was raised on wine.” Despite fearing whether her taste buds would ever survive such an attack, Hannah relaxed her shoulders.
“I suppose drinking shitty alcohol is like a college initiation,” Landon said, grinning at Hannah’s repellent expression. “Here, take this.” Landon handed her his drink.
“You didn’t drug this or anything, did you?” She forced a suspicious smile.
“My own drink? I would hope not.”
Hannah took a sip, and it dulled whatever acid-like substance coated her tongue. “Is this…lemonade?” she asked.
He scratched the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. “I rather not puke at my first college party. But don’t tell anyone, okay? Just let everyone think I’m really good at handling my liquor.”
“So much for being initiated,” she said. “My lips are sealed.”
“You keep that,” Landon said, referencing the lemonade. “I’ll go get another one and get rid of…” He took Hannah’s cup of mystery liquid. “Whatever this is.” He paused and looked back at Hannah. “Don’t go anywhere.”