Page 61 of Royal
I suck in a breath as my head whips up, and I stare at the door like I’m expecting Michael Myers to appear. Shit. Someone knocking on my door shouldn’t make my heart rocket out of my chest like that, but maybe under the circumstances it’s warranted.
Maybe going to this party tonight is the best thing for me. I’ll try to be a normal Kingston University freshman, excited for my first big frat party. I thrust every bit of what’s bothering me to the back of my head before clearing my throat. “Yeah, I’m here.”
Samantha, who has freshly dyed teal hair pokes her head in. “Hey, Freya asked me to make sure you were getting ready.”
I roll my eyes a bit but smile at her. “What’s the dress code tonight?”
“Eh, maybe a little dressed up. Like for a night at a club or something. It’s the biggest party of the semester—this is the only time pretty much all the fraternities and sororities are represented.” She snickers. “About ten years ago, the university president mandated that we couldn’t have more than six groups at any one party because we kept majorly fucking up the houses and the lawn out back every weekend. That’s why we have the bonfire at the beginning in a different location and smaller parties now.”
“So, what you’re saying is that no one will notice if I show up and leave again.” I wink at her, playfully.
“No joking around. We’re going to have fun. Now, get dressed!”
If only she knew I’m not joking around in the slightest. I plaster a big smile on my face and nod. “I’ll be there. It’s just a few houses farther down Greek Row, right?”
“Yep. We usually go as a group at ten, but just follow the music and drunken shouts of excitement if you’re running late. I’ll let Freya know you’re a go.”
“Thanks.”
She shuts my door again to the noise, and I pick up my phone, which I’d turned off after class so I could nap. Scanning through my notifications, now I see why Freya sent Samantha. She’d texted me several times earlier, and I’d never responded. Oops. Knowing I only have a few minutes before I have to start getting ready, I pull open the texts and scan through them. The funny thing is, every message is about the party tonight, so I guess I should take it as a sign. I stifle a laugh as I read through them, because depending on the sender, their points of view about tonight are wildly different.
From my sister:
Have fun, but not too much! Hugs!
From my brother:
You’re not thinking about
going tonight, are you?
From Freya:
You’re not thinking about
NOT going tonight, are you?
Pick up your phone, little sis.
Echooooooo!
From Emory:
Hey, girl.
You seemed quiet in class today.
Hope to see you tonight.
Biggest party of the year.
From Benneti:
Let’s forget all the bullshit.
See you tonight on the dance floor!
I quickly tap out messages to all of them, telling my sister thank you, my brother to fuck off, and the rest that I’ll see them at the party.
