After being dragged to a frat party and experiencing one of the worst nights of her life, Isabella is haunted by her own existence at Hansen University. Her roommate doesn't want to believe her when she tells her that the party ended with her clothe...
Carter's silver Corolla stayed parked a distance from the local aquarium. He and Troy sat idly in the empty car, dragging smoke from cigarettes and listening to the radio. Silver stars complimented the amethyst sky and the digital clock on the radio read 8:25 PM.
"I don't know," Troy confessed with a shrug. His elbow was propped against the window as he took his final huff from the cigarette between his fingers. "I thought it would be better than a movie, where we'd have to be quiet the whole time. Figured we could talk more at something like this."
Carter raised a brow. "Talk about what? The fish? That seems boring."
Shooting a glare at his frizzy haired companion, Troy flickered the ashes of the bud and tossed it out the window.
"No, smart ass. Can you stop discouraging me?"
They had already stopped by Troy's house before their arrival. Carter took it upon himself to storm into the shack of filth and find an appropriate outfit for their date; black jeans with only one hole in the knee and a smoky, grey shirt that didn't hang almost entirely off his torso and had actual sleeves. After scrubbing the dirt off his black Converse with Sam's toothbrush, Troy had earned Carter's approval.
"I'm not trying to discourage you!" Carter defended himself, "I'm still processing everything, I guess. It just seems weird to me that your potential girlfriend could be some girl who goes to an Ivy League school and probably has a net worth of at least one million dollars. What happened to you and your creepy goth girl fetish?"
Troy rolled his eyes at Carter's teasing. "She's not a potential girlfriend because I'm not a potential boyfriend. Trust me, I'm sure she's not into me like that," He said monotonously, attempting to hide the disappointment in his voice. "It's just two people, hanging out. Okay? That's all."
A ding sounded from the pocket of Troy's pants. Pulling out his cellphone, he looked down at the notification.
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"Anyways," Troy began again, looking back to the driver. "She's here, so I'm gonna go."
As he pulled on the handle of the door, Carter stopped him.
"Wait!" He leaned over to the glovebox on the passengers side. He opened it quickly and dug around the mess before pulling out a small, paper book.
