Chapter Six Sam #2
“So, some of us are getting together for a party tonight. You should come.”
I shake my head, but she continues.
“It’ll give you an opportunity to meet people. I know SKU can be overwhelming, but we’re pretty cool once you get to know us.”
I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not really the partying type. I just want to focus on school.”
Christina saunters up to me and unexpectedly places an arm over my shoulder. I stare at that arm in disbelief of the lack of boundaries this girl has.
“And you will. But you should also have a little fun. Plus, there’ll be hot guys there. The Knights are hosting, and you don’t ever want to miss one of their parties.”
I don’t respond, this time only staring at her until she gets the point.
“Okay, how about this?” Christina holds out her palm. “Take out your phone. We’ll drop each other our contacts, and I’ll send you the address. If you come, great. If not, your loss.”
I want nothing more than to be done with this conversation. So instead of fighting her on it, I pull my phone from my back pocket and unlock it.
She takes it from me and eagerly airdrops herself from my phone, then hands it back a few seconds later.
“Perfect,” she says while dropping her phone in her purse and stepping around me. “Think about it. It’ll be a blast.”
The thought of being in the same room with a bunch of drunk, sexed-up college students doesn’t sound appealing to me. Especially not when Everest and that asshole Alex will probably be there. Something tells me that would be a bad combination.
The muffled voices of students passing through the halls are the only signs of life on the other side of my room door.
It’s late on a Friday night, and while my peers are out enjoying college life, I’ve been holed up in this room for the past two hours.
I’ve lain in bed staring up at the ugly popcorn ceiling.
It mocks me… reminding me just how lonely I really am. It’s funny how being in a place full of people can make you feel even more alone than ever.
Maybe if I’d taken Gracie up on her offer to join her in the study hall, I wouldn’t be sitting in here sulking. But, after this crap start to my time at SKU, my mind is far too scattered for that.
Light filters in from the sheer pink curtains, the shadows dancing across the ceiling I’m staring at from where I lie on my bed.
I glance around the room at the vast difference of decor.
My side remains pretty sparse, but with the little trinkets Gracie conveniently had to give so freely, it’s really starting to shape up—almost like someone happy lives here.
I chuckle when my eyes land on the yellow and pink lava lamp on her desk.
She really does have a big personality. If I’m honest, it’s growing on me.
I need that kind of positive energy. I wouldn’t go as far as to say we’re besties just yet, but she’s real and truly sweet.
Two traits that are hard to come by these days.
Needing to do something other than wasting away, and too lazy to sit up, I feel around my bed, flailing uncomfortably until I find my phone. I tap the screen to life and scroll social media in a weak attempt to fill the void. Another night of mindlessly swiping, I guess.
If Evan were here right now, he’d tell me to get off my ass and make the night my bitch.
This is the first time in my life where I’m not stuck indoors with Desmond because Gary is too high off his ass to actually watch him.
I get to be like every other nineteen-year-old—experiencing things, making mistakes.
So why am I rotting away, and passing my time by counting the grooves in the ceiling and aimlessly scrolling?
Because whatever reprieve this scholarship is providing from my miserable life is merely a Band-Aid. In two and a half years, I’ll graduate and the fight for custody of my brother will commence. Back to reality I go.
My cell buzzes against my thigh.
Chrissy Lindsey: Image attached.
With a furrowed brow, I open the text. The picture loads on the screen.
Christina’s face fills the screen, a champagne bottle tilted toward pouty lips in a sea of too-short skirts and hockey jerseys.
She’s straddling some guy, his face buried in her neck so I can’t see his face, but the jacket he’s wearing gives it away that he’s on the team.
Behind them someone’s doing a keg stand in the center of the room.
I’m surprised the party is actually going on.
Earlier today, I heard a couple of students say that the team was on curfew and banned from throwing any more bashes.
Clearly they make their own rules. I guess when you’ve won the school as many conference championships as they have, you can do whatever you want.
It may have only been less than a week, but I picked up rather quickly that the hockey team are like gods on this campus, probably because that prick Alex is the captain and the chancellor’s son. If there’s one thing they care about around here, it’s status.
I focus on the image again, and it’s fascinating to see. So much is going on in the background. Students dancing, conversing, or making out—living their lives out loud for us all to see.
At the top right corner, I notice Everest sitting on the couch surrounded by girls—completely oblivious that he’s been caught on camera.
And now, suddenly, I do care a little. I don’t know why; it’s not like Everest has said a word to me.
I’ve seen him a handful of times on campus, and in each moment, he acts as if I don’t exist.
Another buzz.
869023: Your RydeShare is on the way. Douglas is 10 minutes away from your location. Black Mercedes-Benz E-Class. License plate: 8XJH527.
Chrissy Lindsey: Ryde 10 mins out. Wear something slutty.
My thumbnail finds the groove it’s worn into the phone case as I pick at the plastic while contemplating her message. I don’t even own anything slutty.
Am I really considering going to this party? Should I go?
Don’t I deserve an ounce of fun? Evan would tell me yes. I laugh because I can hear his voice in my head. “Why is that even a question? Go shake your ass and shake some for me, too.”
“Just for an hour,” I try to convince myself.
With newfound determination, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and make my way to the closet. I then dig through my stuff for the sluttiest thing I can find.
Which is nothing…
I can’t wear the same old clothes unless I want to be the laughingstock of the night. I’ve already been nothing but comedic relief for these people—as if my misfortune was designed for their amusement.
Yeah. This is definitely a bad idea.
Girl. Go to the damn party. Evan’s voice is like an alarm in my head now.
“Fine,” I say aloud to no one and turn on my heel to stare at Gracie’s closet.
She’s been nothing but generous and has told—more like demanded—me to help myself to her stuff on multiple occasions.
I saunter forward, and hesitation lingers like a lead weight as I pull it open.
Rows of high-end blouses, dresses, and skirts fill the shelves while the floor is covered with stacks of shoe boxes.
Purses and accessories line both walls, and all I can do is stare in awe.
She could dress a village with the number of items she has here.
I spot a black miniskirt that I could pair with my favorite green knitted cropped sweater, fishnet tights, and boots. Wouldn’t be my first pick, but we’re at the start of spring so it shouldn’t be too chilly. Not wanting to overstep, I text Gracie.
Sam: Hey. Could I borrow your black miniskirt? I’ll bring it back in one piece.
Roomie : It’s totally cool. I told you. What’s mine is yours.
I smile, a weight lifting off of my shoulders. Having someone be as kind as Gracie feels surreal. I quickly change into my outfit before styling my hair into a topknot. Costume jewelry—a bangle, large hoop earrings, and rings—complete the look.
869023: Your Ryde has arrived. Douglas is waiting outside.
I grab my ID, room key, and the twenty-dollar bill I’ve been holding on to for dear life, before locking the door behind me. I pause to shoot another text to Gracie.
Sam: Thank you! You’re the best!
I race down the three flights of stairs, and as I reach the bottom, my phone buzzes and I look down to see a reply from Gracie.
Roomie : Of course! Where are you going?
Sam: I decided to go to the Knights’ party.
Not bothering to wait for her to text back, I stick my phone into my skirt and head out of the building. I approach the curb where the black Mercedes waits and climb into the back seat. Douglas pulls up the route, and his face contorts into a look of surprise.
“Wow. That’s a nice neighborhood. Big night, huh?”
Instead of responding, I give him a tight-lipped smile. Douglas puts the vehicle into drive and slowly pulls away from the campus.
Here goes nothing.