Page 528 of Filthy Elites

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“I don’t want to stay in tonight, this is our junior year and since Starling got here I’ve been a moody motherfucker. Anyone know any parties happening tonight? Let’s go be social and get some beers,” I suggest.

“Bound to be a party somewhere, let me send a few texts,” Evan says, pulling his cell out.

Resting my hand on my knee to stop my foot tapping impatiently, I force myself to eat while I wait for one of my friends to tell me there’s a party at Bufford Row.

“Chad says there’s a lacrosse party down on the field,” Hunter says.

“There’s a block party at Bufford Row,” Evan offers.

“Is that the town houses closest to campus?” I ask, already knowing exactly where it is.

“Yeah, I forgot about it, they always throw a party a few weeks into the semester. Everyone in the row opens up their houses and chips in for a few kegs. They have the party in the street outside and each house has like a different theme. Last year they picked retro video games. One house was Pacman and they dressed up in these homemade costumes, it was awesome.” Evan laughs.

“Sounds good to me, my balls are fucking blue, I need to find me some pussy tonight,” Clay laughs.

Smiling to myself, I take another bite of my pizza, imagining all the things I’m going to do to my little bird when I get her into my bed tonight.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Starling

Sammy wasn’t lyingwhen she said her house was like a permanent orgy. When we got here, she steered me straight up the stairs to her room, but not before I spotted not one, but two couples going at it in the living room. When I reached out to put my hand on the banister, she slapped it, taking my hand in hers and pulling me to the middle of the stairs. “Fluids, don’t touch anything out here.”

Cringing, I pull my free hand to my chest and cautiously follow her to the first floor, so glad that I never offered to take my shoes off when I came inside. When we reach her door, she unlocks it and we both step inside.

“Wow, are they seriously like that all the time? When do they go to class?”

“I’m honestly not sure that they do. The one that’s pregnant and her guy leave occasionally now, but the other four are at it like rabbits twenty-four seven,” Sammy says with a disgusted grimace. “I’m all for having a lot of sex and living your life with your own set of rules, but it’s common space and they don’t ever come up for air long enough to clean. The cleaning service refuses to come in because they keep walking in on them fucking. I had to pay one of the cleaners extra and then escort her to my room to get her to clean my bathroom.”

“Oh my god,” I laugh.

“It’s not funny,” she insists, “If my parents find out I’m living with six nymphos, they’ll drag my ass back home and I’ll be doomed to church on Sundays and knee-length tea dresses for the rest of eternity.”

“There’s space in my room to add another double bed if you want to move in with me,” I suggest.

“Considering you had a fuckfest with your hot psycho ex last night, staying with you would probably be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

I roll my eyes, then shrug, conceding she might have a point. Sammy convinces me to borrow something out of her closet to wear to the party so I don’t have to go home and run the gauntlet of my nosy, overprotective housemates.

The shorts I borrow are khaki green with big gold buttons. They look sexy paired with the cropped tank she thrusts into my arms. Our feet are the same size so I slide on the strappy gold sandals she insists look amazing and pray that I don’t fall over and break my neck in heels this high.

Twisting my hair up into messy space buns on the top of my head, I keep my makeup light and add a bright-red lip. By the time we’re outside her house and dousing our hands in liquid sanitizer, I’ve almost forgotten about Sebastian and how conflicting my feelings are for him.

Hooking her arm through mine, Sammy leads me around the side of the house to where she parked the cart earlier when we got back. “Best thing about having housemates who never go anywhere is never having to share the cart.”

Climbing in, she backs out of the space and pulls away from her house, chatting nonsensically about boys and kissing and other stuff that I don’t pay attention to. Instead, I take the time to psych myself up to find someone to kiss tonight. Sammy is right, how can I justify whatever my feelings for Sebastian might be if I’ve never experienced anything different?

Having a random guy at a party with his hands all over me felt all kinds of wrong, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that all guys are wrong for me. Maybe he was a creeper or something and my body unconsciously figured that out when his hands were on me.

Five minutes later, I hear the first signs of the party as the dull thud of heavy bass hits my ears. There’re so many more people at this party than the one in the woods and the throng has a tension-filled vibe that sets my nerves on edge. Sammy parks the cart at the end of the row and we climb out, holding hands so the dense crowd doesn’t separate us when we push into it.

The smell of body odor and weed fills the air and I wrinkle my nose. You’d think with this many rich kids in one area they’d be able to afford to buy decent deodorant, but apparently money doesn’t equal personal hygiene. Trying really hard not to touch anyone, I follow Sammy through the mass of people until we reach a row of kegs where a huge guy who looks more like he should be a bouncer rather than a student is standing with his arms crossed.

“Evening, ladies, cups are ten dollars each, you can refill as many times as you like, but if you lose your cup you have to buy a new one.”

Sammy and I shrug, then pull out money and hand it to the guy, who passes us each blue plastic cups with the Kingsacre logo on them.

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