daddy issues → brad simpson | ✓

11 - how much

CHARLOTTE

The last two days had gone by so achingly slowly, mostly because of my boredom.

Tiara had been dodging my texts and calls, so I assumed she was having one of her episodes. She had them growing up, where something she wanted would go wrong and she would throw a temper tantrum and then her dad would throw her some money her way to shut her up.

Brad, too, hadn't been answering or even reading my texts, so I assumed it was best to leave him alone after he didn't answer my first two texts. I didn't want to look like a clingy girlfriend; especially when I'm neither.

So now, on a Friday evening, I'm getting ready to go to the party being held at campus. It seemed fit to treat myself tonight since the last two days had been full of entirely catching up on university work and taking up extra shifts at the café.

I slip on a matching skirt and crop top with yellow and black checkers on it. I felt hot, especially with my freshly-curled hair bouncing past my shoulders.

I grab my phone and a small bag to carry it in and call a taxi to campus. There weren't any direct bus routes to campus and I didn't feel like walking in the five inch heels I was wearing.

When I arrive at the campus, people were all filing into the huge frat house where the party was being thrown. Presumably, there was permission for the hall to be used.

Bright, coloured lights flash on the glass of the building as the silhouettes of dancing bodies bounce against the light. The music was loud, and there was an electric vibe inside the entrance.

I sigh and make my way to the drinks table, grabbing two red cups full of god-knows what. One for me and, oh look, one for me. Perfect.

I down them both quickly and grab a third cup before walking around, swaying my hips to the music as I gulp down my drink and chuck the cup to the side. I didn't know what song was playing but it didn't stop me from dancing around with the stranger in the hall.

I felt so free when I dance—granted, I only dance when I've had alcohol, but that's besides the point—and I don't care if anyone thinks I'm embarrassing myself.

It was only when I felt lips on my neck that I stop dancing and turn around to see some guy gripping on to my hips.

"Get off," I scoff, pushing him away lightly. I roll my eyes and make my way to the drinks table, downing two more cups of alcohol without a second thought.

"You look lonely."

I look up to see Tristan frowning down at me as I pick up another drink. I smile and give him a small shrug, "My best friend is ignoring me, so I didn't have anyone to come with. Wanna dance?"

"I would dance if I didn't know Brad was glaring at that guy kissing you," Tristan chuckles and I unknowingly raise my eyebrows at the mention of Brad's name. I hadn't seen him in two days. "If looks could kill, that guy would've died. Five times."

"Brad's here?" I ask, a frown on my face. So he could come to a party but he couldn't answer my texts?

"Uh, yeah," Tristan nods and looks behind his shoulder and I follow his gaze, noticing Brad talking to Connor with a frown on his face and a cup in his hand. "Don't tell Brad I told you this, but I think he wants to hook up with you."

He already has.

I nod slowly, biting my lip and downing my drink, "cool. I'm gonna dance."

Tristan gives me a small smile before I pick up another drink and down it quickly and walking off.

I was annoyed at Brad. I shouldn't be, I mean we were only friends with benefits, but it would've been nice if he replied to my texts, instead of completely avoiding me for two days.