Their Paid Girl

Their Paid Girl - Part 31

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          I’d never been in Adam’s dorm room before, but now, as I stared at the gigantic, sprawling fraternity house in front of me, I was sort of glad that I’d never had a reason for a visit before.

          Of course Adam was part of the most prestigious fraternity on campus. The Epsilons were the rich boys who would all be inheriting money in the millions, and in some cases billions, as soon as they hit their twenties. They had reputations for knowing how to party and how to get girls, but once in a while, someone would grudgingly admit that they were all smart. As in, really smart.

          I sighed as I thought about what I was about to do. The tall, white Greek-style building had its doors thrown open, and two muscular guys were standing on either side, actually checking for invites. From where I stood below the steps, I could see a bit into the lawn stretching behind the house, where occasional flares of light would spark in the night as someone lit a cigarette. Music blared and feminine laughter sounded from dark corners, while husky male voices joked and wheedled girls into following them to somewhere more private.

          “Ready to party, babe?” Emmanuel grinned at me.

          I ignored him, instead following Joel and Esther up the steps and handing over my invite. Up close, it became obvious that the guards were actually muscular seniors, and I fidgeted uncomfortably in my outfit as one gazed at me, feeling like I was showing too much skin.

          I hated parties like these. The drinks, the blaring music, the casual hook-ups. The sweat, the bodies packed tightly together, not being able to get from one end of a room to the other without being violated by several pairs of hands. This really, really wasn’t my thing. But it was probably Adam’s.

          The sooner I found him and explained everything, the faster I’d be able to get out of here.

          We walked into the fraternity house, stepping into some white haze. Apparently, parties like these involved smoke machines.

          I looked at the sea of bodies before me, impressed by the sheer size of the place. It must be really beautifully decorated normally, when people weren’t throwing up into potted plants or making out behind the floor-length curtains covering each Greek-styled archway.

          I cringed as I felt Emmanuel’s arm go around me, and he shouted something into my ear.

          Frowning, I turned back and shouted, “What?” over the pounding of Faber Drive’s G-Get Up and Dance.

          “I said,” Emmanuel’s voice sounded in my ear, “Want to get a drink?”

          “Um,” I said, looking around and just managing to catch Joel’s and Esther’s golden heads disappearing into the crowd. I turned helplessly back to Emmanuel, suddenly feeling hugely lost amidst all the faces I didn’t recognize. The bar was a good a place as any to start my search for Adam. Though how I’d been able to think I could find him in here, I wasn’t sure anymore.

          I gave Emmanuel a nod and his grip on my waist tightened as we plunged into the crowd. When we finally resurfaced, coming out of the dance floor, I found it much quieter and easier to breathe in front of the bar.

          “Vodka martini on the rocks, please,” I gasped out to the bartender. I slumped into one of the barstools, massaging my temples. Maybe I should just give up now. Go home to my quiet, peaceful dorm room. I could always talk to Adam another day. The thought was so tempting that I almost gave in.