Fall For You

(3)

The next morning, I couldn't be more relieved that it's a Sunday. It was past 2:30 in the morning when I got back to the house. The party had died down substantially. The only people that remained were the other 16 girls that lived here plus a few others that were way too intoxicated to even remember their own names or where they lived. This meant that I could drift off into an uninterrupted sleep.

I climb out of bed and grab a new set of clothes from the wardrobe. I settle for a blue singlet crop with lace near the neckline and at the bottom and a pair of black denim shorts. It's still Summer and we're in LA which means it's so hot whenever you go outside, away from an AC. I brush through my dark brown hair with purple ends, before putting it into a high bun.

I don't miss the judgemental looks I get from the preppy school girls that form the sorority as I walk down the staircase and into the kitchen. As part of the sorority house rules, each girl must pull their weight when it comes to the chores like cooking and cleaning so, spread out across the kitchen table are plates and bowls of food ranging from disgusting soggy cereal to toast, eggs and bacon, the works.

I grab a piece of toast and a glass filled with apple juice.

"Hey!" A girl says, she's wearing a pink apron over her floral summer dress, being careful not to get herself dirty. I think her name is Brianna but I can't be sure. "You can't eat until all the food is prepared and then we eat as a group." She scolds me, gesturing to the pan of food on the stove still cooking.

"I'm not staying." I tell her. "I have somewhere to be."

I down the apple juice putting the glass back on the bench and take a bite out of my toast.

"Thanks for breakfast." I say as I walk through the kitchen door that leads outside to the house's driveway. I hear her groan behind me and I laugh. Some people are so touchy. By the time she's done cooking, the food will probably have gone cold anyway. So really, I was just being proactive.

I drive to the dormitories and park in the same car space that I usually do. I climb out of the car and press the lock button on my key as I walk away and into the building.

When I reach room 304, Harley's room, I twist the handle but the door is locked so I pull out my keys from my pocket and use the key that Harley had given me to gain entry into the room.

The room is empty. Harley and his roommate, whatever his name is, both aren't here so I begin searching Harley's side of the room, which by the way is a complete mess, contrasting his roommate's side which is so clean and organised.

I try looking on his shelf for the DVDs but all that sits on there is a mixture of action figures and textbooks that Harley would never even use. He's not the academic type. None of our group is. Well, except me. But the group doesn't know that. The only reason they're even at UCLA is so they can say that went to college but spent the entire time high or drunk.

The door opens and Harley's roommate rushes in. He's wrapped waist down with a towel. His wet hair is flat and sticking to his forehead. His eyes widen with surprise at seeing me in his room.

"Umm wh-where is Ha-Harley?" The boy stutters, clearly nervous to be in a room alone with me while only wearing a towel. His eyes look down to the floor in front of him uncomfortably. His hands hold onto the towel firmly, keeping it in place.

I smile slightly at his embarrassment but don't answer his question.

"Did you hear me?" He asks politely, his voice slightly quieter than before.

"I don't know" I smile unintentionally as I can feel his uncomfortableness rubbing off. He's desperate to get dressed so I don't see anything.

"Can you turn around while I get dressed or, you know, leave the room?" He asks