Chapter 2

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A/N: It’s here!!! Your response to Chapter 1 was bigger and better than I ever thought it would be, so obviously I’m going to continue this! :D 

A couple notes before we begin:

This chapter is rated PG-13 for partying, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes and strong & coarse language.  I watched Neighbors and Project X before I wrote this so I hope I did the frat party scene justice? I’ve never been to one (but I plan on it). 

I will be updating this fic on Fridays. Be PATIENT, this story BUILDS, it’s not a ONESHOT, things can’t move too FAST...anyway enjoy!

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Previously...

Calum whistled again, not even trying to hide the fact he was staring at Penny’s ass as she walked away.  “Is she coming tonight?”

I smirked at her figure, getting smaller as she stormed away angrily. Cute.  I took another hit and leaned on the railing, a calm apathy coming over me, smirking.  “Yeah, she’ll be here.” 

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CHAPTER TWO

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Penny’s P.O.V.

I had to be at that party.  As much as it made my stomach churn to think that I’d be willingly subjecting myself to horny frat boys, and girls with barely enough clothing to cover the essentials, if I was to get any dirt on Luke, I’d most likely dig it up in his own house, where he felt safest.  Maybe I could catch him doing some really hard drugs, or I could sneak into his room and find his stolen notes to prove that his GPA wasn’t actually his at all.  Either way, when the party started, I had to be there.

“Are you kidding me?” Claire snorted, lying on her tiny twin bed on her stomach and poring over her Stat homework.  She pushed her glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose.  “You can’t get there when the party starts!”

“What then, we go early?”

Claire closed her textbook and stared at me, dumbfounded.  “Penny!  No! You’ve got to be late if you’re going to go.  You really don’t go to many parties, do you?”

I’d been to exactly three college parties, only two by choice.  The first was to welcome freshmen, back in my first year, and I soon realized that it was not the friendly welcome all those brochures I had gotten over the summer promised.  I was out of there at the first mention of hookah, and I only had half a solo cup of cheap beer.  The second was Claire’s 21st birthday party, which was actually a lot of fun—we bought our own liquor, invited our closest friends over to the suite we were living in at the time, and spent the whole night doing the sort of things your parents worry about when you go off to college—that is, beer pong and body shots.  Nothing too extreme.  The third, well, let’s just say someone announced that Wrenley would be hosting a floor party, so when hundreds of students poured into our building during sophomore year, we had no choice but to open up our room.  But I had never been to a frat party, and apparently, I had no idea how it all worked; in the back of my mind, I wondered how Claire did.  She sat cross-legged and faced me from across the room.

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