Chapter 3

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Previously...

I squinted at Luke, who seemed comparatively sober.  Even I felt disoriented after having a whole cup of whatever I’d thrown together in the kitchen, and he raised his eyebrows at me over the rim of his drink.

“You want to talk?” he questioned.  I nodded, and he took my arm.   “Alright.  We talk upstairs.”

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CHAPTER THREE

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“Ssseriously?”  I spat, slurring my words a little as the alcohol in my system made me feel buzzed.

Luke shrugged, holding out his arms and tilting his head to one side.  “Do you want to talk or not, babe?” he asked rhetorically, and I squinted blearily at him, trying to keep him in focus as he awaited an affirmation.  I sighed exasperatedly and marched past him, tripping slightly over my own feet and ignoring the giggles from Ashton and Michael that followed.  I pulled my toga down to make sure I wasn’t flashing anyone and Luke followed close behind me, one hand hovering around my lower back as we beat through the crowd—more people had found the ‘weed room,’ and it was becoming a hot spot.  This was exactly why parties made me uncomfortable; on the way out of the room, I’d been touched by at least four people I didn’t even know, and had had multiple suspicious drinks thrust my way, three of which I declined.  Desperate for some relief after escaping the stuffy room, I blindly took a cup from Lisa from my Comp lecture (at least, I think it was Lisa.  Everything was becoming blurry around the edges.). 

“This way,” Luke murmured in my ear, taking hold of my shoulders and pointing me in the right direction, as I’d started walking the wrong way.  “Come on.” He started up the huge staircase and I hesitated, not so drunk that I couldn’t pick up on the devilish smirk on his face as he waited on the landing for me to ascend the stairs after him.  I knewexactly what he was doing, and I didn’t miss how the staircase was so conveniently situated so that anyone who looked up would see Luke Hemmings leading another girl up to his room.  I pulled up my slipping toga and huffed, swallowing my pride and following him.  I held onto the railing as I went, feeling dizzy from the sudden skip upstairs.  I could hear the cat calls, and Luke whistled back, making my cheeks burn in embarrassment as I felt my reputation disintegrating that much more.

Luke took my arm at the top of the stairs and led me down a long hallway to the last room on the left.  He unlocked the door and mock-bowed, waving me in.  Somewhere along the way, he’d acquired a stack of solo cups, and he pulled out a bottle of vodka from under his bedside table as I surveyed the room.  The walls were a deep red, with black shades drawn over the windows on the rounded part of the wall, and the walls were adorned with everything from band posters, to the frat’s letters gilded on the wall over Luke’s bed, to what looked like spray-painted words running from the far wall right up onto the ceiling.  “‘Et veni ad partes,’” he read the graffiti out loud, seeing me squinting at the letters.  “It’s Greek.  It means, ‘I came for the party.’”

I turned to see him taking a sip of his vodka soda and scoffed.  “That’s Latin, idiot.”  Luke furrowed his brow before his eyes widened in realization and I’ll admit, it gave me some satisfaction to see him upset.  I shook my head, immediately regretting that decision as a wave of dizziness crashed over me, and leaned on the wall for support.  My ears rang in the muffled silence of the room; the music was just a distant, pulsating beat now that the door was shut. 

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