3 years later.
A party is definitely the best way to start off a semester in college. No one knows that better than the frat boys I stay with. Even though I refused to join their stupid fraternity- The Kappa Sigma- they still let me stay in their frat house. Most of them are pretty cool. Most of them. I moved out of my apartment because I couldn't afford to pay for it anymore. Thats what happens when you have a dad that doesn't give a shit about you or the shit you have to pay for.
"Mendes, we need more booze for tonight! No booze, no bitches!" David pounded a fist on my door as I flipped through pages in my novel. It's a good think I put a lock on my door because I'd never hear the end of it if someone walked in on me being a normal human being by reading a fucking book.
I stand from the bed, making sure to stuff my book under my pillow.
The doorknob jiggles as he attempts to open the the locked door. I open it and lean against the door frame.
"Do you have money for booze?" I ask.
"No."
"So I'm supposed to pay for them?"
"I was hoping."
"Not happening. I still get paid minimum wage, not to mention I have a car to pay for. What makes you think I have money for booze?"
I should probably start looking for a better job. Seven fifty and hour isn't gonna cut it. The real world is fucking expensive when you're paying for everything by yourself.
"Good point. I'll just get Rick to do it. He's living off Daddy's bank account."
Rick pays for everything and he's never tight lipped about how much money he has in the bank.
"Good idea," I point out before shutting the door.
I take a seat on the edge of my bed and release a long sigh. I've just got one more year before I can get the hell out of college with my degree and make something of myself. I still can't believe it's been 3 years since I left home.
It's hard to even call that house full of people who hate me 'home'. Well, there's Camila. I don't think she hates me. I can't even remember the last time I talked to her. I've had so much going on that I can almost never find time to check up on her. The last time I saw her was two years ago and she was 17, a senior in high school. She's 19 now. The truth is I was too scared to call her on her birthday a few weeks ago. What if she hates me now? Before I left, I promised her that I would come to visit and that I wouldn't forget about her. I broke both of those promises.
Anyway, all of that is in the past. It might be bad for me to bury all my emotions deep inside but I've been doing it for the past three years, so why stop now?
11 o'clock finally rolls around and the frat house is packed with people. I claim a spot on the counter in the kitchen for a couple of minutes while I down several shots of I don't know what. I can barely see clearly as I make my way through obnoxiously loud sluts and unstable, drunk jocks. Or maybe that's just the smoke clouding the whole house. Shit, I need some fresh air.
The front porch is surprisingly quiet and vacant. I take a seat on the bench and fish a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. Campus police drives by slowly as I light my cigarette. Anytime there's a party, they always patrol more than usual. Which is understandable.
"You got a lighter?"
I guess I'm not alone. Next to me sits a girl with brown eyes and coffee brown skin. A few stands of her dark curls rest on her forehead as she settles in on the bench. I've never seen a pair of lips so perfect and full.
