American Sweethearts

6

"Everybody line on up!" a guy calls. "First to finish gets all the cash in this bucket."

He places the tub on the kitchen counter, right behind the five lines of ten shots. Christian lines up alongside his frat brothers. Moments later, the guy whistles, and the boys begin. They take one shot after another, racing to get their row of shots gone first.

"That's so gross," I chuckle, taking the final sip of my drink.

"I know right? What is the point of this?" Lena asks.

"You two have so much to learn," Owen laughs. "This is tradition."

"Someone's going to end up getting their stomach pumped," she says.

"That's part of it. First one to make it to the hospital gets to rush the freshmen."

"Are you serious?"

"Someone's going to die here someday," I say.

"At least it won't be you two," Owen says. "You've only had two drinks the whole night."

That's more alcohol than I've ever had before. It's not sitting well. My stomach feels twisted, and my eyes are struggling to focus. I'm not sure if that's the alcohol or my anxiety.

"Suck it, you fuckers!" Christian yells, wiping his empty shot glasses off the table.

"And we have a winner!" the host-guy calls.

"What a fucking joke!" one of the others responds. "We need a rematch!!"

"You kidding me, bro?" Christian scoffs. "You're just a little bitch."

"Boys, boys," the host says. "Let's tone it down, huh? The bucket is Christians."

"Fuck yeah, it is!" he grabs the tub from his friend, cradling it in his chest.

The crowd disperses, with most people heading back out to the dance floor. But Christian stays behind. He's already spent most of the night with us, and apparently, he wants to continue.

"How do you even do that?" Lena gushes. "Arent you drunk already?"

"No way," he scoffs. "This is nothing."

"You're not going to get sent to the hospital, are you?"

"Not this year. I've already had my fun with the freshies."

I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, someone grabs onto my waist. I jump in shock, but there's nowhere for me to move to. My heart thumps in my chest, my instinct kicking in. I try to turn around, but I can't. The person laughs loudly, rubbing their crotch against my butt.

"Hey, fuck off, man!" Owen scolds him.

"Relax, bro, I'm just having some fun," he responds, squeezing my waist. I take a step forward, but he won't let go.

"Get off her, bro!" Owen shoves him aside. His grip on me loosens, giving me a chance to free myself. I head right for Lena, grabbing onto her arm.

"Fuck, man, chill," the guy grumbles. He holds his hands up in surrender and walks away from us.

What the absolute fuck.

"Are you okay?" Lena asks, holding onto me.

"Yeah, I just... I don't know what that was."

"Fuck, I'm sorry about that Sarah," Owen says. "I don't know who that guy was."

"He's a fucking dick," Christian comments.