The Last One Home

Part 1

Prologue

The cell phone sprang to life, buzzing on the counter top. Its screen illuminated a corner of the dark kitchen. The leather wallet laying partially on top of it subdued much of the noise, but an empty glass of ice gave a telltale chatter as it vibrated.

The phone and wallet were largely ignored. Between the pounding music and the fact that all of the food and drink were on the opposite side of the counter top, no one would give them any notice. In the unlikely event that someone did try to take off with them, the thin charging cord anchoring the phone to the wall would hardly put up a fight.

The owner of the phone stood across the room of the small fraternity house with his arm slung around a short red-head. Her cheeks were flushed and she seemed to laugh at everything he said. In fact, she seemed to laugh at everything anyone said. 

Beads of sweat stood out on their foreheads. The house was stifling hot, a stark contrast with the nearly freezing temperature outside. The throbbing music only made the air feel heavier in the tiny house.

Max Landon's phone never left his side, but tonight he was preoccupied. Tonight he would forget about midterms, forget about Thanksgiving, and forget about his family awaiting his arrival at home.

His sister would've undoubtedly rushed home without hesitation. She was the golden girl who attended the local university just minutes from home. As his twin, she was quite literally his better half. Even as children she was always doing exactly what their parents wanted.

Max intended to have an unforgettable night and see his family eventually. But for right now he was right where he wanted to be.

The phone buzzed a second time. It was no longer touching the glass of ice, but now hanging precariously from the edge of the counter top.

Max took a long drink from the red plastic cup he had been nursing for the last ten minutes. He was beginning to feel as if his head was wrapped in a warm cloud. He wasn't quite as drunk as the red-head but he was getting there.

He nodded to a lanky guy in the corner who he recognized from his English literature class. Somewhere behind him he heard a gasp and a heavy thud followed by laughter. He pictured a drunk coed sitting on the floor, barely holding onto her drink. A couple of her friends would be standing with arms outstretched, trying to pull her to her feet.

He took another sip from the red cup. The warm cloud around his head was still growing. He would have to stop drinking soon or risk spending the night with his head in the toilet.

The red-head must've recognized someone because she began to gesture wildly as she slunk off to a dark corner on unsteady feet. Max hoped he would see her again later. Until then he would just enjoy the party.

The music abruptly changed from pounding rock to a new hip hop song. The air felt electrified as dozens of students danced around him. Max closed his eyes and surprisingly the world did not tilt under his feet. He allowed himself to become lost in the music.

A few minutes later he found himself refilling his cup. He hadn't seen the red-head in awhile. That's ok, he was sure that their paths would cross again.

Tonight would be a great night.

The phone vibrated again.