Page 8 of Seeds of Love
“Not really. I’m only here because my friend wanted to come. She’s waiting for me inside. I didn’t want to seem lame, you know?” Her words tumble out in a rush, as if she’s been holding them back all night. “But honestly? I’m finding it hard with everyone playing drinking games and being so… loud. I don’t even know the rules—this one red-haired guy handed me a cup and shouted ‘You lose! Drink, little dude!!’“ She imitates Ethan in a surprisingly accurate fashion.
Scratching the back of my head, I reply, “Yeah, that sounds like my friend, unfortunately. He didn’t force me here, butisa pain in my ass.”
She grins at me and I feel like I’ve won. I grin back.
“So, drinking games—do I have to join in? I don’t really want to,” she says, shrinking into herself slightly, and I get the urge to throw an arm over her shoulder.
“Of course not,” I promise. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. If someone like Ethan starts giving you shit, just tell him to fuck off, or come get me, and I’ll deal with him.”
She nods, chewing on her lip. “Telling a sophomore to fuck off? That was actually at the top of my college bucket list.”
I laugh at her serious delivery. “Ah yes, the classic college experience. What’s next? Regrettable tattoos and even more regrettable hookups?”
That gets another smile out of her. Progress.
“Ah, I could never reveal the contents of my list,” she jokes. “Then it won’t come true.”
“Isn’t that for wishes?”
She shrugs. I don’t know why neither of us has moved yet—she’s clearly got a friend waiting for her, and I know for a fact I’m going to get shit from the guys for missing my turn again.
“You know,” I continue, “not all parties suck. Some are actually... dare I say it... fun.”
She looks at me, head tilted.
“I get it. This probably isn’t the best introduction to life here. You’re a freshman, right?” She gives the smallest nod. “Thought so. You’ll get used to the games and stuff, and honestly, I reckon if you go back inside, you’ll start having a good time.”With me, I fail to add, because I don’t want to scare her off. I’m worried that one wrong move and she’ll bolt before I can even get her name.
She still looks skeptical, so I continue, “Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s fun to let your hair down a little. Let loose, have a laugh. For those guys,” I point toward the door, “drinking helps. For you, maybe it’s dancing or mingling, meeting new people.”Like handsome strangers outside a party.
Her shoulders sag. “I’m not sure I know how,” she admits softly.
I can’t help but chuckle. “Well, you could start by literally letting your hair down,” I suggest, gesturing to her ponytail, which looks tight enough to give her a facelift.
She hesitates, then slowly reaches up and pulls out the hair tie. Her hair cascades down, framing her face in soft waves. For a moment, I can’t think straight.
“I should go in and find Tara,” she says, tucking a strand behind her ear.
As she moves toward the door, I realize I don’t want her to leave just yet. “Wait,” I call out, causing her to pause. “I’m Freddie, by the way.”
She turns back, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Alexandria. Or Alex, I guess.” Her eyes, previously guarded, now hold a hint of warmth.
In the porch light, with her hair down and that almost-smile, she’s... beautiful. Not in the usual ‘I’m ready for my Instagram close-up’ way I’m used to. It’s softer, realer.
“Well, Alex-I-guess,” I say, testing out her name. “If the beer pong savages get too rowdy, just give me a signal. I promise to rescue you from awful drinking games.” I hold my hand over my chest.
She actually laughs at that. “My hero,” she rolls her eyes. But she’s smiling as she heads inside.
Watching her go, I realize that I’m in serious danger of being intrigued.
As I dive back into the party, the bass drums through me. Troy emerges from the sea of bodies, clapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble.
“Man, where’ve you been? We gotta catch up. I barely heard from you all summer.”
Summer. The word slices through my buzz. Images flicker through my mind like an old film reel—Dad, a shadow of himself in that sterile hospital room; Mom, hunched over a kitchen table buried under a blizzard of overdue notices; Megan, her dreams of college evaporating like morning dew under the harsh blaze of reality.
“Yeah, summer was... busy,” I mutter, plastering on a smile. Troy squints at me, and for a heartbeat, I think he’ll call my bluff. But then his attention scatters like a startled pigeon, drawn to some girl across the room.
“Well, you’re back in the land of the living now. Time to make up for lost time, eh?”
