Teach Me

Chapter One: Amelia

"Hey, what were you saying?" The boy standing in front of me asks. I take another drink as I push a loose strand of hair that escaped by braid behind my ear before I answer.

"I was saying that it's loud in here" I respond, barely able to hear myself over the Top 100 playlist blaring from the speakers behind me.

"What?" He asks again, leaning closer towards me as he prepares for me to answer again. He's tall, yet not much more so than I am. A few ringlets of his dark hair fall upon his forehead as he leans down, and I fight the urge to touch them. I'm a little drunk, but not drunk enough to touch someone's hair- however soft it might look. I move my lips towards his ear, nearly close enough to have my lipstick leave a mark as I speak.

"I said that it's too loud in here, I can barely hear myself think." Hopefully I didn't yell in his ear being so close, but I'm itching to get out of this room. It's one of the first nights back on campus for the school year, and Greek row is pulling out all the stops. Sarah convinced me to come with her to this party at her boyfriend's fraternity, and while I wasn't reluctant I wasn't what most would consider excited to be dragged along. It was the first night that Sarah and I would be spending in our new apartment, and as boring as it might sound, I was looking forward to unpacking my room. I had already laid out the bare necessities, such as my bedding and a handful of clothes, but I had wanted to unpack everything before classes began in a few days. As much as I enjoy it, when it comes to organizing anything I doubt anyone would call me efficient.

Instead of getting a head start on settling in, now find myself in the living room of a fraternity house, drinking a warm cup of beer in between using it as a chaser. It's not ideal, but anything is better than taking a shot straight, and I enjoy having something in my hands. Sarah is somewhere in the house, but the last time I saw her she was going upstairs with her boyfriend, giggling and giving me a brief wave as they disappeared above the landing. I wasn't upset by her leaving me alone, she and Daniel hadn't seen each other all summer since he went back home between semesters. If anything, I feel a twinge of jealousy. Will and I had recently split up. It's been maybe a few weeks at most since I was sent videos of him at a similar party to what I find myself at now, making out with a brunette in the corner of the room. Unfortunately for me, not only had my boyfriend of six months cheated publicly, but he had cheated publicly with one of my former sorority sisters.

There were many reasons for my decision to leave my sorority after my junior year, none of which I think anyone would fault me for. It was a toxic environment- an expensive toxic environment at that. My sorority "sisters" and I didn't leave each other on the best of terms, and while I know it's irrational, a small part of myself can't help but think that Britt made out with Will for the sole reason of knowing that the information would get back to me.

"Do you want to get out of here?" The boy in front of me asks, pulling his ear away from my lips, smiling, and the angle allows me to see his face again. He's undeniably attractive. His eyes are a deep shade of brown, which reflect the many multicolored lights flashing in the room. He has a strong jawline that would normally make me think that he's a shoo-in for something like the football team, or even modeling. But he doesn't give me the impression that he's overly athletic, or has a modeling contract for that matter. He seems like a normal person, something that feels refreshing coming off of my relationship with Will. Will had an objectively inflated sense of self-importance, and convinced himself that he was going to be outrageously wealthy, famous, or more likely both. What skills Will had to achieve these goals, I had no idea, but our relationship being cut short fortunately didn't leave me time to stick around and see his plan fall through. This boy in front of me, on the other hand, didn't seem to give me the impression that he was going to subject me to conversations revolving around how amazing he is. While I don't have much to back that theory up, I'm willing to take the chance of finding out if I'm right.

"I'd love to," I respond, shooting a smile back at him. "Do you want to go upstairs?" I continue, holding eye contact as I take another sip of my room-temperature beer. It takes more willpower than I would like to admit to not grimace as the liquid hits my tongue, but I manage to keep my expression unaffected. His eyebrows shoot up, parts nearly disappearing behind the few strands that still found themselves falling over his forehead.

"Sure," was all he managed to respond with. I couldn't hold his short statement against him. What his words lacked in excitement, his expression and voice made up for. His 'sure' was easily multiple pitches higher than what I've been able to establish as his normal voice, and his eyebrows have yet to fall from where they flew up to when I asked the question. Aside from these tip-offs, he's managed to adjust his shirt three times in the past 30 seconds since I asked, which I'm only able to notice from the side of my eye as I refill my cup. Once I finish, I turn back towards him and flash a smile and a quick wink- something normally outside of what I'm comfortable with, but I'm past the point of behaving according to my inhibitions tonight. I begin to walk in front of him, and feel the warmth from his hand on the small of my back as he directs me through the crowd towards the stairs.