The room was cramped with the glistening bodies of several college freshmen grinding against each other to the beat of the heavy bass boosted music playing over the speakers. Flashing lights poured over the living room, the floodlights blinding you once or twice as they moved around the crowd, adding to the chaotic mass of people enjoying themselves. Coupled together with the seizure inducing lights and people, the smell was equally as bad, the stench of alcohol mixed with acidic barf, and the three thousand scents of fruity perfume and axe body spray.
You were keeping close to the wall, a red solo cup of something viscous that smelled an awful lot like expired punch was placed firmly in your hand. It had ended up in your hands after a guy had pushed it towards you near the front door, drunk out of his mind on the stuff. It only took you one sniff of the beverage to determine that it was expired sparkling red wine––Fresita to be exact. The stuff was good, normally, when it didn't have the consistency of hand lotion.
As you could tell from the party, there wasn't much thought put into it. Probably some frat boys getting out of hand, attracting a bigger mass of people from all around. It felt nice though, you would admit. Having a large group of people around, leaving you alone but still close enough to interact with was more comforting than staying in your dingy little apartment way off campus.
You pulled away from the wall and started to walk towards the myriad of people dancing, swaying a bit from the intoxicating waft of smells hitting you in the face. It was putrid, making you scrunch your nose at the appalling smell of fun.
God, you needed a drink. And a nice long trail of coke.
"Woah, okay! That's surprising!"
Squashed between a mass of grinding people, you struggled to look towards the source of the booming voice coming from outside of the dance circle. By the stature of his body, it was obvious that the blond guy as tall as the nearest tree was the one who had yelled across the room. He was wildly pointing at you, who was sandwiched between people in dresses and khakis. You tensed your body and started stomping through the cascade of people, even resorting to shoving when they started grinding and holding you back. Well, they were drunk, but consent was still consent.
Alfred, the tall blond, gave you thumbs up when you stomped towards the little group of friends. He jumped up and down like a little puppy, excited to see you as you pulled him into a quick hug, relishing in the fact that he smelled like sweet alcohol.
"You mean it's surprising to see me at parties?" You quipped at Alfred who slickly placed an arm around your shoulder. "Then you don't know me too well, chap."
"Awe, Y/N, that's mean," Alfred pouted.
He pinched you as Freda and Lucretia, two of your best girl friends on campus, laughed at his expense. As much as he acted like a puppy, he was a hot senior and he knew it very well. The white t-shirt he was wearing enhanced his muscles, flowing nicely over his toned chest and arms. He was wearing a jean jacket on top of the t-shirt, effectively hiding his V-shape. You knew he was built like a greek god, and you wanted him to hide it so you could enjoy it all to yourself. It was a selfish thought, but you were a very selfish person. Or else you wouldn't be at this party only to get wasted.
Lucretia, your girl friend on campus from Bio, was as much of a drug head as you. She had gotten involved in her junior year and took off after that. You happened to meet at a sorority party where you both snuck in for the "promised" drugs, and of course she looked beautiful in her natural curly hair and dress. You became friends after that and started hanging out at parties often. Which led you to meet Freda.
Freda was a peculiar character. A girl of her caliber was sure to end up in Harvard or Oxford with the brain capacity she possessed. Instead, she was stuck in little Leebrooke, friends with party animals like Lucretia and you. All because she thought it was fun. And you didn't blame her. What was a life of only studying good for?
You brushed off Alfred's hands and promptly put your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, excited to finally getting to the best part of the party, the only reason why you and Lucretia was here:
The drugs.
"You got it?" you hopefully looked at Lucretia, who in response to your question pulled out two small plastic bags. She nodded and gave you a pearly smile, a nice contrast to her dark complexion. Her natural curly hair bobbed up and down as she started jumping up and down, just as excited as you to get the night going. In a swift motion she handed you a bag as you squealed in joy.
Alfred removed his arm from your shoulder, and started pushing you towards the back of the living room, carefully avoiding empty cans and bottles littering the ground. The room was densely packed, Lucretia and Freda had to latch themselves onto Alfred to follow your little group and not get lost.
As you tried to take another step, a girl bedazzled in jewellery and too short shorts came panting out form the crowd. Her hair was styled prettily, all of it thrown to one side, but heavily messed after partying and dancing for a while. You winced as you imagined her trying to brush out the knots in her hair, pulling at her scalp as she used what looked to be fairly petite muscles.
Ouch, that one was going to hurt, you thought as you looked towards the birds nest in the back of her hair.
"Hey, good looking," she purred towards Alfred, placing a hand on his bicep.
Her speech was extremely slurred, and her legs gave in a few times as she tried to stabilize against the closest person next to her, who unfortunately happened to be a dancing junior. The girl stumbled and her jewellery clinked and glittered in the dim light, catching your gaze at once. Alfred who was the point of affection for the girl, shrugged and continued to push your little group, his eyes locked onto the small coffee table and seats.
The girl pushed herself further out of the crowd, her stumbling legs determined to follow Alfred. That was some willpower if you had ever seen it, the dedication was strong as she pushed back her drunk tremors and lack of reason, intentionally following Alfred. You let out a snicker. The poor girl was so desperate to get laid at a frat party, you felt a little bad in not helping her.
But she was keeping you from your little dose of escape, stuffed into your fist for safekeeping so no one would get grabby and snatch it.
Another little push from Alfred and you were again headed for the coffe table.
Lucretia was the one to first head to the table and swipe her arm across, successfully shoving off anything that was on the table. The stoners already seated on the couch let out small "woop"s of glee as they spotted the drughead quartet as you were known, excitedly squashing together and making space on the couch.
Alfred marched up, confidently placing his fist down onto the sticky table, and looking at you before quickly removing his shirt. He threw the piece of clothing away before taking a big chug of one of the bottles laying on the floor.
Of course he would take off his clothes, you smirked, enjoying the view of your best friend's chiseled chest, as he started moving around and handing what looked like pieces of a cut up straw.
"Ok, we've got a little bit for everyone," Alfred said, pushing his chest out to attract as many people as possible. It worked; girls were attracted to him like moths to a lightbulb, and the groups of girls standing behind the couch was slowly growing. Alfred was always one for theatrics, you mumbled as you face palmed. You didn't have nearly enough product to satisfy all the people he was attracting.
Alfred slowly moved around the table that Lucretia was slowly setting up and flexed his pecs, earning laughs from around the room. The music was still loud, booming through the room. You could almost feel the vibrating air on your arms through your hoodie, and if that wasn't saying how turned up the party was, you didn't know what description would do it justice.
Even as Lucretia and Freda was starting to use the straws, Alfred continued to act up, acting like a big doofus in front of the tiny crowd. Some were shouting at him to start dancing, to "give them a show!", which Alfred just gave a devil-eyed smirk to.
You could feel your insides burst from glee when he started throwing it back. Loud unbridled laughter escaped you as Alfred danced surprisingly good for the little experience he had, and the crowd roared as he started lap dancing one of the stoners seated on the couch. You still clutched the bag of coke in your hand, careful to not let it go or lose it as you howled at your blond friend.
"Do me next!" you cried out, a spontaneous decision made a split second before Alfred whipped his head around to meet your eyes.
Alfred looked conflicted at first. Instead of moving over to you, he winked before stopping the show, intending to take a seat beside you. He let out a huff before slinking his body onto the couch.
"Nice show," you teased, flicking over a piece of hair that had fallen out of your low ponytail.
Alfred chuckled and shifted closer to you before blowing a raspberry at you. "Thanks," he panted, brushing off non-existent sweat from his brow. "I only do it to entertain the number one babe."
"Yeah, right," you snorted. "Didn't know you swung that way. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
You jokingly made the comment, implying the actions from earlier about Alfred giving a lap dance to the poor guy who only had to sit there. Nonetheless, Alfred's face turned beet red, and he spluttered while trying to form sentences.
"Wha-! You're mean!"
He playfully punched your upper arm and looked up at you with baby blue eyes.
"Mean? Me?" You gasped in feigned ignorance. "Never!"
"Terribly so, my lady," Freda butted in. She looked relaxed and slurred her words a bit as she made a move to sit down on the floor. "You're the meanest."
Alfred grimaced. "Isn't that the Grinch?"
Both you and Freda stared at him incredulously.
"Uh.... No."
"Isn't that "You're a mean one"?" Lucretia sneakily entered the conversation when it had come to a standstill. There was an awkward silence that hung over the four of you, mostly because Alfred was being weird again after having too much to drink.
"...Yeah," Alfred whispered after a while. "I guess it is."
You didn't know how the physics behind it worked, but you swear you could feel the silence between you get louder. The booming from the music was just a faint background noise now, and you squirmed in your seat, uncomfortable by the ever growing silence.
You still had the bag clutched tightly in your hand, but you really didn't want to share the contents right now. You glanced at the people who had gathered after Alfred's little show, looking at the coffee table and the lines that Lucretia had prepared.
A shiver ran down you spine, and you shook your head. No, you wouldn't do it here, you reckoned, staring at Alfred's bare chest as you thought. The bathroom sounded like a good place right now.
Making your mind up in a hurry, you jumped up from the couch, startling the dozing off drunks and the high people. Lucretia looked at you inquisitively, wide dilated pupils trying to focus on your sudden burst of energy. She didn't ask as you shimmied your way past the crowd.
"I'm going to the bathroom!" you shouted, hoping they could hear you over the constant talking coming from the people at the party.
It didn't take you long to locate the bathroom on the second floor beside the master bedroom, only running into a few people who had stopped to talk to you. Brian from Gen Ed was friendly enough to notice your lack of enthusiasm and had let you go after you tried excusing yourself, though Jenna from Psych wasn't as attentive. She'd babbled on about––something. You weren't really paying attention and slipped away a few seconds into her monologue.
You let out a huff of irritation. At least the bathroom was quiet.
And it didn't smell like puke or like a can of axe body spray, so you guessed that was a plus.
Making sure the door was locked, you placed a bit of the bag's contents onto the sink counter. It took you three seconds flat to inhale the white powder. Satisfied, you sat down onto the purple bath rug on the floor and closed your eyes.
One second.
Wait patiently on the intoxicating feeling.
Two seconds.
....Patiently.
There seconds.
You opened your eyes for a brief moment, bored out of your mind as you waited for the coke to kick in. Fidgeting with the rug, you looked at the rather large bathroom.
It was comfy, to say the least. You were seated against the bath tub, right in front of the door––that you had checked twice that it was locked––with the toilet to your right. The walls were a mute pink tone and––
Was that... doilies on the wall?
You wiped a hand over your eyes.
A frat house... with doilies?
You almost belted out in laughter just as three sharp knocks echoed throughout the spacious bathroom.
"Hello? Is there anybody in here? The bathroom's been locked for quite some time now."
There was a fruity voice coming from the outside of the door, a deeper lilt to it. Masculine by the sound of it.
You had no intention to move for a while. Your phone was in your pocket, and if any of your friends needed you downstairs they knew how to contact you. The guy at the door would simply have to find another bathroom.
"It's occupied," you said, leaning your head back on the bath tub.
"You won't let me in for even a little bit?" the voice asked, a tinge of hope mixed in with the innocent request.
"No."
There was a soft thud at the door. A soft suspicious thud.
"Hey––What the hell are you doing!"
You shrieked as the guy walked in, a triumphant grin on his face and mockingly bowing in your direction. Scrambling to your feet, you tried taking a few steps but was ultimately stopped by the dizzy feeling of getting up too fast, enhanced by the coke you had previously inhaled. Oh, to be high in a bathroom.
The guy was tall and undeniably handsome, dark brown hair and a jaw sharp enough to rival the best gourmet chef's knife. His clothes looked like he belonged in a fashion magazine as well; a cardigan covering his broad shoulders and loose fitting jeans.You scrunched your face, pointing an accusing finger at the attractive intruder.
"Please leave me alone," you started, trying to shoo him out of the bathroom with your arms. He only responded with locking the door and sliding down into a criss-cross-applesauce.
"No will do," he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. "Lighter?"
Pretentious bastard.
"What do you think? That I'm some kind of walking supplier?" you shot back. He took a quick look at you and smirked.
"Well, you're high aren't you? And you probably had a little to drink," he responded. "And with that bag laying on the sink, I'd say you're pretty much a supplier."
Oh shit. You left the bag.
Your face paled, and you took some shaky steps, grabbed the bag and pocketed it. Lucretia would be so pissed at you if you lost the bag. There was still so much left.
"Do you have a lighter?" he asked again in a calmer tone. You shook your head.
The guy sighed and pocketed his pack of cigarettes.
"Are you going to stay for a long time?" you spoke up, tired of being interrupted by the guy who forced himself into your little quiet space.
"Nah," the guy took a deep breath, "I needed to get away for a bit. Won't stay for too long."
An uncomfortable silence covered the bathroom like a layer of thick dust. None of you made any move to leave the bathroom yet, so you decided to plop back down onto the purple rug, raking your fingers over it for comfort as the world got lighter and quieter as an effect of the coke.
"You go to Leebrooke, right?"
You hummed in response, eyes closed and drowsy as hell. "I go Bio Med," you said. Your throat was dry but smacking your lips didn't help at all; you were a hundred-and-ten percent sure you just looked like a fish. "Though I failed my last three midterms in chemistry, bio and maths."
The guy also hummed, and that sweet fruity lilt was back, though barely noticeable.
"I'm taking a bachelor in chemistry," he said, shifting slightly. It felt like the conversation was supposed to just naturally die off from there, but before you could happily rejoice in the quietness he spoke up again.
"I could tutor you? In chemistry and maths I mean."
Oh. Oh. That was a very pleasant proposition. A great one actually. You were starting to like this guy more. But you weren't sober, and did not have the rational thinking skills that sober you had.
"Sure," you smiled, fishing out your phone from your hoodie pocket. "I'm not going to remember this in the morning though, so might wanna add your contact info and call me then."
"As you wish," he smiled back. The guy traded phones with you, and you punched in your number struggling with remembering all the digits.
Damn you couldn't think straight right now. You punched in the last number, sighing as you handed back his phone and collected yours.
He glanced at the device quickly, reading off your name.
"Looks like you got yourself a tutor, Y/n."
You looked back down onto your own phone, wincing at the bright light.
"Yeah," you looked back up at your new tutor, who had gotten up to leave, and smiled at him. "This is going to be a lot of fun, Caden."