The Unlikely Resident of Room 313

Chapter 4

What does a person wear to a frat party?

It was the one question I forgot to Google during a late night of binging every college-related thing I could find on the Internet. And there were a lot of things—some rated E for everyone, others rated X, and some that should have been straight up illegal. I saw what people wore during a Red-Bull-fueled binge of every raunchy young adult show or movie I could find. Melody appeared to be in the same boat, but unlike me, she wasn't too shy to go to another room and ask for fashion advice. Though we weren't hopeless, we were definitely not as prepared as we thought, nor did we have the clothing budget of a small European monarchy. And there was no way in hell my mother would have ever let me buy anything close to the scraps of cloth in the HBO wardrobe department.

Well, Mommy Dearest isn't here, is she? the little devil on my shoulder chuckled. Who or what was there to stop me from finally dressing the way I wanted to for so long?

The frat-party dress code was simple: regardless of a theme or not, the more skin, the better. This applied to all genders and was the exact opposite of what I was allowed at home or in school. But despite the desire to wear the clothes I spent hours curating on Pinterest, insecurity gripped me tight. I was too afraid of the low-cut dresses and strappy sandals the other girls wore. So instead, Anna Huang, a bubbly dark-haired girl a few doors down, let me borrow a simple, silky black tank top that I paired with shorts and sneakers. I looked more ready to go to a baseball game than a party. But it would have to do.

Tomorrow! I promised myself. Tomorrow, you'll revamp your wardrobe.

"I saw him and I swear, I almost passed out," Zara said, dusting her nose with another layer of blush. From the moment Melody and I arrived at her room, Zara couldn't stop talking about a boy she saw earlier. "I mean, I swear, every guy I've seen so far is hot, but..." She took a swig of pink wine right from the bottle. "He's fucking gorgeous! The most beautiful person I have ever seen!"

"Did you talk to him?" Anna asked from where she knelt on the ground, buckling her shoes.

Zara made a face in the mirror. "No. He went into the dining hall and practically disappeared."

"I'm sure he'll pop up somewhere," I assured her, clutching my untouched wine between freshly painted nails. Melody caught my attention and subtly extended her untouched wine glass. Bottoms up? Her eyes seemed to ask and I smiled before clinking my glass with Melody's and taking a long sip. The sweet and sour taste exploded from the back of my throat and into my nostrils, but I welcomed the sensation and the heat that pooled in my chest as a result.

"I really hope I see him out tonight," Zara continued. "You guys have to keep an eye out, too."

"We don't even know what he looks like!" Anna laughed.

"Oh! You'll know when you see him!"

As Anna, Melody, and Zara finished getting ready, a boy from the second floor invited us to his room for a pregame party. I liked the concept of the pre-game: you drink in order to prepare yourself for all the drinking you're going to do for the rest of the night. Very convenient.

"Welcome ladies!" Jay said when we knocked on his door, his eyes already glazed over from the concoction that wafted out of his red solo cup—and the rest of the room.

It appeared half of Woods Hall's female population found its way into Room 243. Despite being the only quadruple suite in the hall, the room was still too small for so many people. But it wasn't uncomfortably small. Instead, energy buzzed between bodies, as though a magnet pulled everyone closer together. Music pulsed through the dimly lit room and my gaze lingered on the shadows along the bunked beds and futon couch. I was aware of the eyes that slid over me as I made my way inside, a thrill twisting in my stomach from the attention, my nerves singing with the need to be seen, to be interesting enough for someone to approach me.