Page 98 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
This wasn’t the first time I found myself standing in front of this house. At least this time, I had someone with me. Not that Rachel’s presence helped stem my anxiety any. If anything, this entire plot of land felt more sinister, as if the house and yard were plotting against me.
Even the Greek letters hanging above the door stared back at me as if they were daring me to cross the threshold and step into the bowels of hell.
“This is where the party is?”
The question was redundant. Anyone with eyes or ears could clearly see that a party was happening here. Music blared at an obnoxious volume, and there was this smell in the air similar to what one might find in a bar—a combination of cigarette smoke, sweetness, beer, and sweat.
It was not pleasant. And then there were the people. They were everywhere. Outside in the yard, on the deck, in the house, on the roof, there was even a girl hanging out an open window on the second floor.
This house was obviously the right place. Yet, I still held onto hope. There were other fraternities on campus. Surely, they did similar things on the weekends, right? According to Mom, that was what college was all about—studying hard and playing harder.
“Are you sure we’re at the right house?”
“Oh, honey…” Rachel patted the arm I had looped in hers, “When Alpha Lambda throws a party, this is the only house.”
I didn’t know what that meant. “You do know who lives here?”
Maybe she didn’t know? There was no way she would bring me to Issac’s place of residence, right?
“You’re not worried about Issac, are you?”
Or maybe she would.
“Look at all these people.” She waved her hand around at the crowd in the yard. “Issac’s not going to do anything.”
“There were a lot of people in the cafeteria too.” And that didn’t stop him. “Why is this any different?”
“This is a party. Everyone’s here to have fun. Besides… Issac never comes to these things.”
That was a horrible argument. “But he lives here.”
Issac may not go to other parties, but he literally slept in this house.
“Don’t worry.” Rachel tightened her hold on my arm. “You have me.”
Right, ‘cause she was so much help all the other times Issac showed up. “You could’ve told me where we were going beforehand.”
“Then you wouldn’t have come.”
No, I wouldn’t have. “So, you tricked me?”
“I didn’t trick you.”
Pulling my arm out of hers, I took a step back. “Yes, you did.”
I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her so-called friendship. What kind of set-up was she walking me into? People like her didn’t talk to people like me unless they had ulterior motives.
I learned that freshman year of high school, when Jamie Malloy invited me to her house for a sleepover. There was a sleepover, but I was not a guest. I was the entertainment for Jamie and her friends.
“I’m not falling for your tricks.” I would never be the butt of someone's joke again.
“I’m not trying to trick you, but maybe I did omit some information,” she admitted. “All you do is study and stress out. I just wanted you to have some fun, that’s all.”
And she thought bringing me to a house full of rowdy, inebriated people would be fun.
When I continued to eye her skeptically, Rachel huffed out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go back to your house and watch a movie.”
That was unexpected. I thought she would argue to get me inside. Maybe she didn’t have ulterior motives after all. Rachel was a social butterfly. Was she really willing to give up her night for me?
