puck off ☆ c. sturniolo

01 Estella

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The party was in full swing by the time Sam and I walked in, shitty rap music blaring loudly from the speakers. Don't get me wrong, I love rap music, but this was the kind where they were just yelling into the mic. Incredibly annoying. I should've just turned around and left, having no clue what frat Sam just dragged me into.

The air was hot as there were far too many people crammed into the house, and I  already regretted agreeing to come out tonight. I let my eyes wander around the room, since Sam refused to tell me what frat house we were in. I caught a glimpse of brown hair, concealed by a black hat before Sam urged me forward, hopefully to get a drink.

I couldn't help but wonder who she wanted to avoid. Sam had been talking to some guy, never having him at our dorm and always going to wherever he lived, and this must be where we are. Great. I'm going to get ditched for a guy, and Levi isn't even here to keep me company.

"What are you feeling tonight?" Sam asked me as we entered the kitchen, several liquor bottles sitting on the island. Red solo cups strewn throughout the counters, some full, some empty. The messiness of the kitchen was making my skin crawl, nonetheless I reached for an unopened bottle of Tito's, my go to.

Sam rolled her eyes and grabbed the half empty bottle of Pink Whitney, pouring herself half a cup to sip on all night. Sam was the type of girl to nurse one drink all night, controlling her buzz. Myself? I drink to get drunk, to forget whatever the fuck I'm worrying about, or dreading. I bring my own cup to my lips, swallowing a few drinks before lowering it again.

"Sam?" A voice questioned, making Sam and I turn to the left, where the voice had come from. A guy stood there, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It took me a second to place him, and once I did I was livid.

"Delta Sam, really?" I glared at my best friend, ignoring the fact one of the frat members was now standing with us. This specific house belonged to most of the college's hockey players, and I cannot stand the egos that follow. Don't even get me started on their reputation.

Sam frowned, "I'm sorry, Stella. I really wanted to come..." She trailed off, widening her eyes in the direction of Matthew Sturniolo, presumably the only reason why she wanted to come. I gave Sam a death stare, not impressed with her, and took another drink of my Tito's. If she wanted to date a meathead, so be it. Sam glanced back and forth between Matt and I, ultimately letting her gaze fall on him.

"Hi, Matt." She grinned shyly up at him, turning away from me. I let out a quiet huff, taking my drink with me as I left the kitchen. I wasn't about to cock block my best friend, if I was in her shoes I'd want the same respect.

I glanced towards the living room, before deciding to go the opposite direction. I'm in no mood to dance, let alone in such a crowded area. I made my way upstairs, glancing in at the rooms as I passed them. Half of them had couples hooking up inside, making me want to gag at the sight.

Who fucks with the door left open? Privacy is dead these days.

I reached the end of the hall, and entered an empty room. It was surprisingly clean, and it even had its own balcony. Perfect. I walked through the room, noticing that there was physically no sign of life. Not a single poster, family photo, nothing. Black bedding with black matching pillows. Whoever's room this was, definitely didn't have a girlfriend, and possibly not a good relationship with his family. Or the possibility no one lived in this room yet. I slid open the door, coming to find two fancy patio chairs sat next to each other.