The Unlikely Resident of Room 313

Chapter 25

Roy evaporated into the ghostly plane the moment we stepped off the sidewalk. The party tonight was to be hosted at a DTE annex house only a few blocks away from uptown Oracle. This street was a bit quieter than Fraternity Row, but not so much that it was empty.

"Hey!" Eric shouted from the front porch. "You made it!"

"Hi!" I laughed. "Nice tie!"

"Thank you! It's a little too formal for tonight, but I just got back from an internship interview, so I thought, fuck it. I'll look nice tonight."

He did in fact look very nice in his fitted white dress shirt and black dress pants. A black tie was loose around his neck, and he'd pushed his sleeves up to his elbows haphazardly, making him look like the love interest of a steamy office romance film.

He looks sloppy, Roy said in my mind, sounding utterly bored.

Ignoring him, I smiled. "I appreciate it. I'm sorry this was so last minute, by the way. I had a couple of things going on and my parents are in town, so it's been a whole thing." A drastic understatement.

"It's okay. As long as you're here, I'm happy."

The scent of alcohol and weed wafted from the open door. The entryway to the Victorian-style home was similarly decorated to that of the DTE mansion, except there are more posters and banners hanging from the faded cream walls. Whereas the other house was a palace, this house was lived in and comfortable. And—I glanced at the ceiling—it wasn't just inhabited by the living. Through the sounds and smells, my sixth sense tingled for the sudden cold different from Roy's presence.

Roy's breath brushed the back of my neck. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure they stay away.

I responded with a curt nod. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen, and we walked over to the kitchen island decorated with drinks and fairy lights. Music pulsed through the floor and snaked its way up my calves and into my chest. There were more people than anticipated and I eyed the stack of plastic handcuffs in the middle of the granite countertop.

"We don't need to be handcuffed yet," Eric said as if reading my thoughts. "Only if and when you want."

Suddenly unsure, I pursed my lips. Maybe some liquid courage would change my mind. "Do you want to do a couple of shots?"

Eric offered me a red solo cup and an unopened bottle of vodka. "Bottoms up." We downed two shots back to back. "No chaser?" he whistled.

"I'm a Rusiska," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and coughed from the awful burn in the back of my throat. "It's in my blood."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Eric bellowed and we high-fived in the most masculine display of the fraternal brotherhood. "Living up to the legend!"

Jesus, give me a break, Roy seethed silently. Was it possible to hear the frown in a person's thoughts? Quick as lightning, jealousy struck my mind and then disappeared, and Roy went silent. I took another shot of vodka. And then another.

Gradually, and then all at once, the world felt brighter and the music felt sweeter to my ears. Eric whisked me away to the living room where the party waited. Though I didn't recognize most of the frat brothers and their dates, they eagerly chatted like longtime friends. Somewhere in the conversation, wine was offered, and the more I drank—still handcuff-less—the more my body relaxed, and the conversation with my parents was forgotten.

Well... almost forgotten.

I ignored their calls and messages on my phone. The lighter my body became and the more the world began to undulate around me, the less I cared. That was a sober Asteria problem for tomorrow.