Lines We Cross

Chapter 3

The hum of the engine faded as YN pulled into the driveway, her Audi S5 Sportback coming to a smooth stop in front of the sleek, modern facade of the off-campus house. The place was all sharp lines and clean angles, with large windows that gave a glimpse of the spacious interior. It stood out on the quiet street, a touch of contemporary luxury in an otherwise unassuming neighborhood.

YN stepped out of the car, shutting the door with a satisfying thud. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air before making her way inside, pushing open the heavy front door. The familiar mix of scents—leather, a hint of spilled tequila, and the lingering trace of Nina's favorite incense—hit her as soon as she stepped in.

The house was a study in contrasts, much like YN herself. The living room was dominated by a massive L-shaped sofa in deep gray, complemented by sleek black-and-gold fixtures and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows. The marble kitchen island nearby was cluttered with bottles of high-end liquor, a stack of red Solo cups, and a bowl of limes. The decor was chic and expensive, yet there was an unmistakable lived-in quality, marked by the slight scuffs on the hardwood floor and the random party paraphernalia scattered throughout. It was modern, stylish, but with a chaotic edge—like a frat house dressed up in designer clothing.

As YN tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter, she heard laughter drifting down the hallway. She followed the sound upstairs, stopping at the third door on the right. The music and voices grew louder as she pushed open the door to Maya's room, where Maya and Nina were already deep in pregame mode.

"About time," Maya said, looking up with a grin. She sat cross-legged on the floor, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a red cup in the other. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and her eyeliner was smudged just enough to give her a devil-may-care look. "We were beginning to think you'd bailed on us for Professor Olsen."

YN rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh, please. I'm not that dedicated," she replied, her tone lazy and amused. She made her way into the room, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. "Besides, I'm here now. So, what are we drinking?"

Nina was sprawled on the floor beside Maya, her makeup kit spread out around her. "Tequila shots, obviously," she said, handing YN a filled shot glass. "And don't think we're letting you off the hook about your little study session with the hot professor."

YN took the glass with a smirk. "It wasn't a 'study session,' it was a discussion about my paper," she corrected, though she couldn't help the slight flush that rose in her cheeks. She tipped back the shot, feeling the burn spread through her chest as she set the glass down. "And she's not 'hot,' she's... academic."

"Right," Maya drawled, pouring herself another drink. "Academic. Sure." She shot Nina a conspiratorial look, her grin widening. "So, did the 'academic' professor seem impressed by the 'academic' discussion?"

YN grabbed a lime wedge from the table, biting into it as she spoke. "She was impressed with my argument," she said, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "But if you two are so curious, why don't you come to class and find out for yourselves?"

Nina snorted. "Yeah, because we're just dying to sit through a lecture on political theory," she said, rolling her eyes. "We'd rather stick to real-life politics—the kind that involve who's hooking up with who at the party tonight."

"Speaking of which," Maya cut in, setting her cup down and reaching for the tequila bottle. "We need to get you in the mood for some chaos. I'm thinking at least two more shots before we even consider calling the Uber."

YN raised an eyebrow but didn't protest as Maya poured. The rhythm of pregaming was familiar, the chatter and laughter a comforting soundtrack as they went through the motions of getting ready. She glanced at herself in the mirror on the wall, running a hand through her long dark hair, making sure her outfit—a fitted black leather jacket over a plain white tee and dark jeans—looked as effortlessly put-together as always.

As the alcohol began to settle in, YN could feel herself easing into the night's energy, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. The conversation drifted from teasing about her professor to speculating about who would be at the frat party. Maya and Nina rattled off names, while YN listened, chiming in every now and then with a smirk or a sarcastic comment.

"Just try not to leave anyone crying tonight," Nina said with a teasing grin, holding out another shot. "Remember, some people are actually fragile, unlike you."

YN took the shot, laughing. "No promises," she replied, setting the empty glass down on the table. "But I'll try not to ruin anyone's night too badly."

The doorbell buzzed, signaling the arrival of the Uber. YN grabbed her leather jacket from the back of a chair, draping it over her shoulder as she followed her friends downstairs. As they walked out into the cool night air, she could feel the familiar pull of the evening's chaos ahead—a swirl of music, laughter, and the kind of reckless freedom that came from knowing exactly who she was and the effect she had on those around her.

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