Page 47 of Freshmeet
I passed a happy, tipsy couple sitting on a bench in the quad.
Ah. Young love.
“And why’s that?”
Jamie mumbled something, and then a feminine voice said something back. “Because my roommate’s a narc, man. He threatened to tell our SA if I came back drunk again. Who does that?”
“I don’t know. Did you do anything to warrant him being a dick?” I went past the turn I’d usually take from campus to walk home and went down an extra block.
“I might’ve brought someone back to the room. But in my defense, I didn’t realize he was there. So, the guy has it out for me, and I need to crash at your place, okay?”
As I mulled it over, Jamie sighed. “If I’m being honest, I’m not sure if I can make it to your place without getting stopped by the cops.”
“Fine. I’m on my way. You owe me.”
“Yes! You’re the best! See you in a few.” And then he hung up.
The closer I got to the party, the louder the music and shouting were. I walked into the light behind the houses, ready to go inside and find Jamie, when a loud, belligerent voice yelled down from the roof, “Hey, bartender man!”
“Hey!” I waved, pausing for a moment to see if they had anything else to say.
Nothing. Just a few hiccupped giggles and murmuring.
Shaking my head, I went into the house and immediately regretted my decision. The Wel crowd had migrated there, which was a pretty standard Thursday for the Greeks.
Without a bar between me and them, this size of crowd freaked me out. I didn’t enjoy gatherings this large unless we were outside at a bonfire, and I had some space.
Yet another reason why Greek life was one aspect of college I was okay missing out on.
Jamie had stressed that it was more than the parties, but for me, they were a pretty big drawback.
As if the crowd wasn’t bad enough, for some reason, a bunch of the guys were wearing masks. It added a weird vibe to the party that made me uneasy.
Why does Jamie like this shit?
I squeezed past a beer pong game in progress, some girls waiting for the bathroom, and finally made it to the front of the house, where people were dancing. I mean, I guess it was dancing.
My discomfort skyrocketed when I noticed a curtain of blond hair twirling through the air, her hands crossed at the wrists holding Jamie’s as they spun in a fast circle, shrieking like little kids. Jealousy, hot and irrational, tore through me. The sheer joy on both their faces was enough for me to walk out the door and let Jamie figure his shit out on his own.
As I contemplated my next move, Jamie saw me and let go of Sarah. She careened to the floor onto her round, perfect ass. Jamie, oblivious as always, pushed past everyone else and crushed me in a bear hug. “Connor!”
“Jamie!” I mimicked his silly tone.
“You’re here.”
Sarah limped over to us, rubbing her right ass cheek. Scowling, she shoved Jamie’s arm. “You made me fall.”
“I’m sorry. I saw my brother and needed to get to him before he ran away.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “He’s a stick in the mud, kind of like you!”
She backhanded his stomach and frowned. “Hey!”
“It’s not a bad thing, my beautiful little stick.” He kissed the top of her head, and I wondered, for the millionth time, if he had real feelings for Sarah. If so, I would have to rethink everything.
Rolling her eyes, she finally turned to me, her body tensing. “Connor.”
I dipped my chin. “Sarah. I thought you were sick.”
Sarah frowned but didn’t answer.
