Chapter 3
3
FARRON
I had a twist in my gut as I pushed open the front door to the Sigma Phi house, the place already buzzing with the thump of bass and the chatter of too many conversations. Parties weren’t my scene, but a promise was a promise, especially when it was to your co-captain and buddy who could throw a guilt trip like nobody’s business.
“Come on, Farron, it’ll be fun!” RJ had said. “We’ll hang out and get drunk together.”
Clearly, he and I had very different definitions of the word fun.
I wasn’t in the best of moods to begin with after working all day and being forced to pick up half an extra shift because of a coworker’s no-show. After a day like that, a frat party was the last thing I wanted, but if I didn’t show, RJ would be on my ass for weeks, and that was even less appealing.
The air inside was thick with cologne and the sweet tang of spilled beer. Multicolored strobe lights pulsed over the sea of bodies who danced, flirted, and laughed, some lounging on the tattered couches while others hovered around a makeshift bar manned by a guy wearing sunglasses despite the lack of sunlight.
I scanned the room for RJ or any of the soccer team, hoping for a familiar face to latch onto until I could decently make my escape. That’s when Tore walked in, looking like he’d stepped out of a European fashion magazine instead of a frat party. Even here, I couldn’t escape him.
He wore a designer jacket that probably cost more than I made in a year at Walmart, tailored to perfection over his lean frame. He walked through the crowd, all relaxed and confident despite probably not knowing anyone. And even the fact that people stared at him was apparently not bothering him at all.
“Who’s that?” I heard a girl ask her friend, her voice rising above the music.
“I dunno, but he’s hot,” her friend replied.
I watched, leaning against a wall, as he started chatting with a group of guys from the lacrosse team. Within minutes, they clapped him on the back, offered him drinks, and he was laughing along with them, his smile easy and infectious. It was something about the way he carried himself, how people were drawn to him like he had his own gravitational pull.
How did he do that: slide into any situation like he belonged there?
I felt an unwelcome prickle of… What? Envy? Annoyance? It was hard to tell. All I knew was that watching Tore effortlessly charm his way through a crowd made me want to punch something. Or maybe someone.
“Hey!” A hand clapped my shoulder, and I turned to see RJ, a grin splitting his face. “You made it!”
“Didn’t have much choice, did I?” I forced a half-smile.
“Lighten up, man. Have some fun for once!” He shoved a red plastic cup into my hand before disappearing into the throng. So much for hanging out together—not that I had expected anything else. Like Tore, RJ was a social butterfly.
Fun, right. I took a sip, the beer cheap and bitter, just like my mood. A group of sorority girls had joined the guys from the lacrosse team, all focused on Tore like he was holding court. His laugh, bright and clear, cut through the noise, and it made me clench my jaw tighter.
He’d slipped into this party, into this world —my world—as easily as he did into those expensive clothes that whispered wealth and privilege. It was as if he emitted some sort of silent siren call that drew people to him. Arms reached out to touch him, the guys bumped his shoulder, and a ripple of giggles followed his every word.
Envy stabbed me, not for what he had, but for how effortlessly he navigated this sea of social niceties. He was a freshman, new to this college and even to the country, so how could he so easily fit in when I was still wondering where I belonged other than on the soccer field?
Tore shifted positions, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted me. He froze for a moment, and somehow, that small moment of breaking his composure felt like a triumph. But then he excused himself and headed toward me. I straightened up, bracing myself as if I were about to take a hit on the soccer field.
“Good evening, Farron,” Tore said as he approached, his accent lending an unintentional formality to his greeting.
“Hey.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Well, I’m here anyway.”
“Are you enjoying yourself?” His gaze was direct, and there was a sincerity in his question that I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Not particularly, but I’ll live.”
His forehead creased slightly. “Why are you here if you don’t enjoy it?”
“Because I made a promise.”
“Ah, okay. We could step outside if that would be better?”
“Thanks, but I’m good here.” My voice was sharper than I’d intended, and he raised an eyebrow, a small frown tugging at the corners of his lips as if he couldn’t quite grasp the edge in my tone.
“Suit yourself,” he replied with a shrug that was too graceful to be anything but annoying. “If you need something?—”
“I won’t,” I cut him off, my words slicing through the space between us. There was a twinge of guilt somewhere in my chest for being such an ass to him, but I shoved it down. Nothing Tore had done had made him deserve my attitude, yet that only seemed to irritate me more.
I didn’t say anything else, and when the silence lasted, his shoulders hunched. “I’ll see you later then,” he finally said.
“Or not,” I muttered as he walked away, slipping back into the crowd as effortlessly as he’d emerged. His departure left me oddly unmoored. I took a deep swig from the cup, letting the bitterness wash over my tongue.
It wasn’t fair how he could charm everyone without even trying, while I stood there gripping my Solo cup like a lifeline. I drained the rest of my drink, the liquid doing nothing to quell the growing annoyance at Tore’s effortless sociability. How long did I have to stay before I could leave? At least another hour. Sigh.
Three drinks later, my head was buzzing, a rare sensation since I usually steered clear of drinking too much. But tonight, with Tore parading around like he owned the place, I needed something to take the edge off. Not that it was working, as I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him.
Wait, someone had handed him a red cup, and he was slamming it back. Was he drinking alcohol?
Before I’d thought it through, I stalked toward him and shoved my finger against his chest. “Are you drinking?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are. You. Drinking?”
He raised his cup in a mock salute. “Why yes, I am.”
“You’re an idiot. You’re under twenty-one.”
He shrugged. “It’s legal in Norway, you know?”
“You’re not in Norway.”
“Thank you, I hadn’t noticed.”
Fucker. “It’s illegal here.”
He gestured at the room. “Then why is it okay that everyone else is drinking? Or are you merely objecting to my consumption?”
I gritted my teeth. He wasn’t wrong, but hell if I was admitting that. “It could cost you your scholarship.”
“I don’t have a scholarship.”
Of course he didn’t. At least I could stop him from drinking more. I snatched the red cup from his hand before he could react, sniffing it. It was soda, the carbonation tickling my nose. “What the fuck? You think you’re funny?”
“You asked if I was drinking. You never specified what.”
Around us, laughter arose, and my cheeks heated. “You damn well knew what I meant.”
“I apologize if my imperfect command of the English language resulted in a misunderstanding.”
Imperfect command, my ass. He might have an accent, but he understood everything perfectly. Not that I could say that without looking like a dick to his gaggle of admirers. Which he knew all too well, considering his little smirk.
“I was trying to look out for you and make sure you weren’t getting kicked off the team or losing your scholarship, but I shouldn’t have bothered. Privileged, spoiled, rich kids like you always get away with everything,” I blurted out, the words fueled by more than the alcohol. “No idea what it’s like to have actual obligations.”
His blue eyes flared with something I hadn’t seen before—anger. It should’ve felt satisfying, watching Mr. Perfect lose his cool, but instead, a pang of regret twisted in my gut.
“Privileged? Yes. Spoiled? Maybe.” Tore stepped closer. “But don’t you dare presume to know me or my life.”
“Whatever.” I turned away to disguise the sudden tightness in my chest. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go down, yet I had no one to blame but myself. Not my finest moment.
“Way to kill the mood, bro,” one of the lacrosse guys said, and I took that as my cue to leave before things got out of hand.
“I’ll see you at training,” I said to Tore, and it sounded fake and hypocritical even to my own ears.
He didn’t say anything, and I spun on my heels and stalked out.
“Leaving already?” RJ stopped me when I’d almost reached the front door.
“Yeah, not feeling great.” Technically, not a lie.
“Ah, gotcha. See you at practice, dude.”
I waved, then headed out. Once outside, I took a deep breath, my head clearing from the slight buzz. Fuck, what a disaster. I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin. As much as I hated to admit it, this was all on me.
Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I headed toward my dorm. In front of me was a couple, the guy supporting the girl as she wavered and tripped over her own feet, falling onto her knees on the grass. “Sorry,” she giggled. “I’m a little drunk.”
He hauled her to her feet again. “That’s okay, baby. We can still have fun.”
Fuck. I didn’t like the sound of that at all. They hadn’t spotted me yet, so I slowed down, wanting to see what was happening. Were they an actual couple, or had he picked her up at the party?
“My, you’re such a gentleman. What’s your name again?” she asked in a Southern drawl.
Well, I had my answer. Shit. I didn’t have much of a choice now, did I?
I caught up to them in a few quick steps. “Did you guys have a good time at the party?” I asked jovially.
His head whipped around. He looked familiar, and it only took me a few seconds to place him. “Ben Jones, right? You play football?”
His face tightened. “Yeah, why?”
“Nothing, man. Just recognized you.”
“I’m Elise.” The girl almost tripped again as she extended her hand to me.
I took it, forcing a smile. “Hey, Elise. I’m Farron, captain of the soccer team.”
“Ooh, I like soccer.” She blinked a few times, and I had to hold her up by her hand. Jesus, she was drunk off her ass. “Y’all have such great abs.”
I could barely hold back a snort. “Thank you. We work hard for those.”
“I’m a little drunk,” she said again, this time addressing me.
“More than a little, I would say.”
“And…” She sighed as she turned to Ben. “I forgot your name again.”
“Ben,” I supplied helpfully. “His name’s Ben.”
“Ben was gonna take me to his room.”
“Was he now?” I shot him a dark look and he cowered a little.
“Just making sure she got home safely,” he mumbled.
Yeah, right. “I’m sure you were.”
“I would never…”
“…take advantage of a drunk girl? Of course not. Your entire team is known for being such chivalrous white knights.”
“Chi… Civil… I can’t say it.” Elise giggled again.
“Chivalrous. It means honorable, gallant, noble,” I said. “Which Ben is. Aren’t you?”
His look would’ve made lesser men pee their pants, but I shrugged it off. I’d caught him red-handed, and we both knew it.
“Of course,” he said through clenched teeth.
I stepped closer to him, bringing my mouth to his ear. “I’m gonna check on her in the morning, and if I even so much as suspect you kissed her, I’ll raise hell, you got me?”
After the longest pause on the planet, he tersely nodded. Message received.
“Sleep well,” I told Elise. “And put some ibuprofen by your bed. You’re gonna need them tomorrow morning.”
With a last glare at Ben, I took off, confident he wouldn’t try anything.
I’d made it a habit not to get involved in anything on campus, especially not frat fights or rivalries between sports teams, but in this case, I hadn’t had much of a choice. While some people would’ve argued she shouldn’t have gotten drunk, my viewpoint was always that drunk people couldn’t consent and were automatically off-limits.
It wasn’t like it would be fun to fuck someone who was only half-conscious. Honestly, I didn’t get the appeal. And Ben Jones was popular enough that he could easily score, so why was he resorting to sleazy tactics like this? It made zero sense to me.
Knowing that I had at least prevented something bad from happening to Elise made me feel a little better, but it didn’t take away the bitter taste my exchange with Tore had left in my mouth. Had I taken it too far?
Fuck, I hated that dude.