Chapter 8 Do What You Want and Fuck the Rest #2
I finally made it into a stall and read all the chalk messages while I peed.
Becca loves Ethan!
Fuck the patriarchy!
Do what you want and fuck the rest!
Yeah.
Yeah!
If I wanted to hook up with Connor, I could! Assuming he was interested. But why should I be so scared of rejection? It wouldn’t kill me.
This was the year of Sarah.
I decided to ask Connor to walk me home. From there, I would figure it out.
Perfect.
I fought to get my shorts back up, washed my hands, fluffed my hair, and marched out of the bathroom with all-you-can-drink confidence, determined to shoot my shot. How could I fail after getting a pep talk from a bathroom stall?
Too bad I’d forgotten one crucial piece of information—my timing and luck had always been shit.
Just a few feet from the door, Meg had Connor pinned against the wall as she grinned up at him, her hands resting on his chest.
Of course.
When his eyes met mine, he tensed, and every bit of badass-bitch energy drained from my body. My gaze drifted to my sorority sister in front of him, and I accepted defeat. Meg was flirty, funny, and sexy—everything I wasn’t.
The need to escape clawed at my chest, and I darted out of the hall—right into my boss’s chest.
“Whoa there. You okay?” John gave me a look over and frowned. “Why don’t you go home?”
Guilt twisted my gut as I glanced around the crowded bar. “We’re too busy. I’ll be okay.” Even I didn’t believe the shaky words.
John shook his head. “No. Clock out. You can make up hours next week.” With that, he patted my back and went back to the shuffleboard tables.
“You getting cut?” Jen asked as I got closer to the end of the bar.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
She chuckled and clocked me out on the touchscreen. “We all have bad nights. Go home and relax. We’ve got this.”
I gave her a weak smile and took my purse from behind the bar. “Thanks, Jen. If you ever need someone to cover for you, I’m your girl.”
“Sounds good, sweetheart. Now get out of here.” She snapped a bar towel at me and then jumped back into taking orders.
I shuffled out of the bar and into the humid summer night. Despite the pleasant breeze, my skin became dewy, and my shirt clung to my chest.
“You off already?”
I jumped away, turning to find Kat coming out of the alley next to the bar.
“Why do people keep doing that?” I frowned at her, crossing my arms.
Kat chuckled and took a hit before passing the joint to Langley, the bassist in her band. “Where are you headed?”
“Home. It’s been a weird night.”
Kat nodded and looked into the front window of the bar. “Here comes Mona and Emily. Let’s all walk together.”
As a pack, we went the five blocks to our place. Music carried down the street. As we got closer, I could feel the vibrations as the bass shook the entire building.
“I guess I won’t be going to bed anytime soon,” I grumbled, taking the ChapStick out of my purse and slathering it on my dry lips.
Emily hooked her arm in mine and shyly smiled at me. “Does that mean you’re coming to the party with us?” She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted.
I tilted my head at Mona, and she shrugged. With a dramatic sigh, I said, “Let’s go.”
Emily cheered and dragged me into the Gamma house.
The moment we walked through the door, I stopped, yanking Emily and causing Mona and Kat to run into my back. “What the hell?”
The living room was packed with people dancing, which, in and of itself, wasn’t weird. No. What was weird was that all the guys were wearing masks—horror masks, hockey masks, skull masks. A few even wore black hoods that hid their faces.
“Shit. Is this about us?” Kat mumbled to Mona.
A short guy in a Ghostface mask waved at Emily, and she let go of my arm to dance over to him.
Mona pushed me inside, letting the screen door slap shut. “Even if it is, they don’t know it was us, so play it cool.” She waved at a group of Betas in the corner, and through her fake-ass smile said, “Make sure I don’t hook up with one of the Betas tonight.”
Blake Sheffield stood in the center of the pack, watching Mona closely. As their president, she was destined to be their nominee for Homecoming Queen, while Mona would be ours.
Pushing between us, Kat threw an arm around each of our shoulders. “Let’s get a drink.”
One cup of cheap, flat beer turned into four, and I no longer cared about the masked men. If anything, it made it feel like I wasn’t just drunk at a party with the same people I was always with.
A particularly good song came on, and Emily jumped up on the coffee table. All the girls in the room swarmed her, cheering and carrying on.
“Back off,” Kat growled at a handsy horse-face.
I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the guys had surrounded us. Peering into a blue LED mask, I said, “Let me through.”
They immediately stepped back, bumping into a few guys. When they complained, he used his broad shoulders to make a path for me.
I snagged Kat and Mona’s hands and led them from the living room. The guy in the blue LED mask followed and tried to catch my arm, but Kat smacked his hand away.
“Ouch,” he said, shaking his hand. “That hurt.” Reaching up, he shoved his mask back, revealing Jamie’s pouting face. “Why’d you do that, Kat?”
She rolled her eyes and gestured at the living room. “Why do you think?” The girls had stopped dancing, turning on the guys with glares. “You guys are fucking creeps.”
“Hey! They handed me this thing when I got here.”
“And if they handed you a knife, would you get to stabbing?” Kat asked, making stabbing motions at his gut.
“No.” Jamie frowned, looking around like he finally understood how weird the party was. “Maybe I’m drunker than I thought.”
“Ya think?” Kat asked, her eyes catching on something down the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t go far,” Mona yelled after her, getting a hand flick in return. “She’s going to kill Duncan, isn’t she?”
“Very probably,” I said, nodding.
“Well, I guess there’s nothing left to do but get another drink. Want one?”
“Sure.”
Mona nodded and weaved through people until she was out of sight.
Jamie bumped my shoulder. “Sorry for scaring you.”
I shrugged. “You’re fine. I’ve just been a little jumpy recently.”
“This party can’t be helping.”
There was a shriek from the back of the house, and we shared a panicked look before pushing through the masked assholes toward the kitchen.
“Kat, please—” Duncan slurred, leaning against one of his masked brothers.
“Don’t touch me!”
“I forgot I was wearing this,” he said, waving a Ghostface mask around.
Kat picked up a half-full bottle of cheap whiskey. “Even if you weren’t, you don’t get to touch me anymore.”
Duncan’s face twisted in confusion.
“While I have you, Mr. President.” Kat sneered. “Maybe don’t have your goons masked up while girls are getting killed all over town. Something to consider.”
“What’s the big deal? I thought you liked the whole masked man thing.” He shrugged.
Kat shook with rage as she raised the bottle.
“The big deal is you have about thirty assholes in there acting like there are no rules because we don’t know who they are.
Get your frat in order.” She shoved the bottom of the bottle against his shoulder and stormed past him to the back door that led to the steps to our apartment.
“Bitch,” he grumbled, glancing at the counter. “And she took our booze.”
Mona handed me a beer, and we went back to the living room.
A few minutes later, Duncan stumbled in and jumped up on the coffee table.
“It’s come to my attention that some of the brothers have been getting handsy.
Keep it classy, men,” he slurred, falling off the coffee table.
The group of people dancing parted, and he landed face-first in the beer-soaked carpet.
“Should we go?” Mona asked, sending Kat a video of the jerk’s belly flop.
A good song came on, and I shook my head. “Not yet.”