My drunkenness made it hard to keep track of how long I'd been outside. Lingering in the kitchen, alone, just got creepier the more people that came in and saw me stood there like some kind of kitchen troll waiting for a gold coin.
I wasn't brave enough or even willing enough to go on the search for Ella; hopefully by now, she'd found Marcus and my job as wing-woman was simple as just staying the hell out of the way. The decision to finish listening to My Favourite Murder podcast came when I'd been outside for over a half hour and all calls to Ella went to voicemail.
'On October 5th, police dogs aided in the haunting discovery of the girl's tortured remains on the premises of Dr Heston-'
"I fucking knew it!" Obviously, it was him, the psychopath was signing off for the poor girl's unnecessary, addictive, and tranquilizing medications for months. Grooming her and making her dependent on him, all before luring her into his home, sexually assaulting her and torturing her to death. "Of course, it was Dr Pervert! I knew there was something wrong with that fucker-"
An abrupt cough makes me jump and the speed of which I flick my head up almost gives me whiplash. I ignore the sharp pain in my neck as I look up toward the tall male figure stood watching me from just outside the kitchen side door.
Oh god, like it's not mortifying enough to be caught sat outside drinking alone at a party, I'm doing it whilst listening to a murder podcast. I clamber up to my feet whilst desperately trying to pause the talk of gruesome morbid details playing from my phone. I decide the best thing to do is just walk back into the party and act as if this never happened. I can't help but peak another look at him as I head toward the door, the warm glow from the kitchen lighting up his profile.
It's Carter Hughes.
Michigan's up and coming quarterback. You couldn't walk through Campus without seeing or hearing something about this guy and his impeccable gameplay. Not only that, but it's also hard to be a female at Michigan and not hear about the other games he plays, particularly the fuckboy kind.
He's so tall. I wasn't capable of gaging just how tall he is from the pictures. His strong jawline is like something from an old Hollywood movie, his head of messy brown curls falling onto his furrowed brow.
It's only then that I realise he's frowning as he watches me scurry. I feel ridiculous, the happy buzzed feeling I had from the alcohol has left me and the gold dress and strappy heels just have me feeling like an imposter. His scowl is like a smack to the face. He must realise just how little I belong here as I do myself. I'm practically running as I head into the foyer.
The house feels stifling, the air thick as people have made the transition from happy drunk to horny, messy drunk. There are multiple students slouched against the walls, some having deep looking conversations, others are entangled with one another, tongues duelling and hands wandering. I find myself heading towards the back of the house, the beer pong tournament has been abandoned and replaced by two cheerleaders dancing on the table. There are even some dudes throwing dollar bills at them. Wolverine, our mascot, is passed out in the corner of the room.
I see a flash of red hair behind the dancing cheerleaders and move closer. Sara, the girl who dragged Ella away from me is laughing with another girl, who is not Ella. I approach her out of sheer desperation, and judging by the orgy in the foyer, I'm not about to go opening occupied rooms upstairs at this time of night.
"Sara, hi." I crouch in front of her, she raises an eyebrow at me, and I know she's already forgotten who I am. "I'm Ella's roommate, Lou. Remember I met you in the kitchen?"
She exchanges looks with the girl beside her and they snicker. I'm just about tired and cranky enough to ignore it and focus on finding out where my wander-some roommate is.
"Where's Ella?"
"She left."
That's it. Two words is all she gives me and then she flicks her long red hair over her shoulder and continues talking about what piercing she wants next.
"Excuse me?" I have to hear her say it again, Ella wouldn't do that. She wouldn't just leave me here alone, not when she knows already how uncomfortable I'd be without her. Also, not when she's the one with the key to our apartment. Sara sighs and rolls her eyes before reluctantly talking to me again.
"She. Left." She increases her volume and annunciates like I'm from another planet.
"I'm confused, not deaf. Did she leave alone?" I snap the words out, all of my politeness wearing thin. I feel the tequila settling in my stomach, it makes me feel queasy as I consider that Ella could be in trouble or drunk in a ditch somewhere.
"She left with Marcus; they went to his place." Her eyes shift and focus on something behind me, something high up, the lilt to her voice turns sickly sweet.
"Hey Carter, you feeling lonely hon?" A weird hum of electricity tingles down my spine as I feel eyes on me.
"I'm never lonely Patterson." A smooth, deep voice sends goosebumps careening along my arms. From the look on Sara and her female companion's face, I'm not the only one affected by it.
"Why don't you get us both a drink?" Her flirting technique is as bold as her hair and as usual, I decide it's best if I just get the hell out of the way. I'd rather pay for an emergency locksmith than stay at this party.
I stand and straighten my dress; barely making it a couple of steps towards the exit when I feel a large, calloused palm touch my bare shoulder.
The previous hum of electricity has gone haywire and was now firing sparks up and down my spine as I watch Carter Hughes move to block my path. At five foot nine myself, and just over six feet in Kate's heels, I'd never really felt small around guys I'd met. Often I'd match them in height; or I'd insult their fragile masculinity by being taller. But in heels, my eyeline was focused on Carter's chin, dusted by a day's stubble.
Naturally my eyes begin to explore the rest of his face that I'd been bereft of by the poor lighting outside, and the photos on campus really not doing him any justice.
Evidence of long outdoor training sessions has left him with a deep brown tan, a faint smattering of freckles kiss across the bridge of his nose. It's ironic, the cute feature on the face of such a huge muscular guy. His eyes are a brown shade, the lighter, almost caramel, molten centre is glowing as he looks back at me. They're framed with unfairly long thick lashes and the cute line between his brows as he'd frowned at me earlier had gone, he no longer looks annoyed as he watches me inspect him closely, instead he merely looks intrigued.
Oh god, did I just say it was cute?
"Looking for Marcus?"
I blink a couple of times and just about hold myself together, not allowing that voice of his to melt me into a puddle at his feet. No wonder he'd been with so many girls. I'd never been affected by a guy like this in my life.
"I'm actually looking for Ella, my roommate." His eyes never stray from my face as I talk to him, despite the chaotic party that's ongoing around us.
"Ah yes, but if I overheard correctly, she's with my roommate, Marcus."
I flick my gaze down to his hand, which is still resting on my bare shoulder. I need to snap myself out of this weird hormonal daze he has me in and get home, I give a one shoulder shrug and he lifts his hand, breaking his stare to look at it, as if he hadn't realised he'd even still held it there.
"I'm Carter, by the way."
"That's great, can you call Marcus?"
He crosses his arms across his chest, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed the way his biceps bulge in that position. I ignore his introduction and by the smug gleam in his eyes, he already knows I know who he is. Everyone at Michigan knows who he is, even the hermits.
"In a rush to leave?" A couple of guys walk by, nudging or nodding in acknowledgement to Carter.
"Actually, yes. Ella has the only key." I fiddle with the strap of my bag.
God, I'm going to kill her when I get my hands on her. I haven't sworn the Hippocratic oath yet bitch.
He takes his iPhone out of his pocket, dialling and raising it to his ear. He nods his head in the direction of the front door and I follow him as he leads us outside.
"He's not answering." He slides his phone back into his pocket. "Give me a minute, Blondie."
And just like that he's off, back into the throng of people inside the frat, and I'm left staring after him, heels sinking into the grass of the front yard.
Blondie? Charming.
"Jeez you're hot." I smell the guy before I see him, the sour reek of beer and marijuana invading my nostrils. He moves to touch me, and I retreat. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt y-you." Drunken hiccups interrupt his slurred speech. "I wanna' make you feel gooood. Where the hell ha-have you been hiding?"
"Not hiding. Leaving." I wave goodbye, ensuring no mixed signals.
I start walking backwards towards the road, a couple of different Ubers are arriving, and despite knowing I won't be able to hijack someone else's ride, I'd like some sober eyes on me right now. Especially as Sir Drunk-a-lot keeps chase, a hungry look in his eyes. I load up the Uber app, trying to get my own ride.
"Nahhhhhh come on! You don't need to-" hiccup "leave. I've got a great bed upstairs. It's mammiform."
I assume he meant to say memory-foam, and not mammiform, which is, by definition, the form of breasts.
The faint sensation of electricity is firing in my body again, as I see a tall shadow appear behind the drunk frat boy, grabbing him roughly by the nape. A jacket in his other hand. Numerous faces turn towards us and I recognise the towering frame of Seamus O'Leary, another football player watching from the porch.
"It's a real shame you feel the need to scare girls into oncoming traffic to get them to sleep with you."
Sir Drunk-a-lot visibly cowers, sobering almost immediately despite the vast amount he'd clearly drank tonight.
The velvety smooth tone of Carter's voice was gone, totally replaced by a more menacing edge. I couldn't explain why it didn't scare me; if anything, it excited me. A small ache began to throb at the apex of my thighs as my eyes remained glued to his chiselled face.
"Get the fuck out of here. If I even hear you've touched a girl tonight you're off the squad."
"Come on Carter, I'm j-just playing. Wasn't I?" The boy holds out his arm to me, hoping I'd save him from the force that held him. I open my mouth; I don't know what I'm even going to say but I'm stopped short when Carter continues.
"You don't get to talk to her."
Anger is rippling from Carter as he spits out the words and shoves the boy away and stalks towards me, not even looking back as he says the next words.
"I'm not fucking joking, or would you like to be piss tested tomorrow?"
The boy pales and skulks back inside. Carter pulls some car keys out his jacket pocket and warm amber lights flash behind me.
"Cancel that, I'll drive us."