Catching Hearts

02 | bottoms up

Deja runs the straightener over my hair for what seems to be the hundredth time, as if it won't resemble a poodle the minute we step outside into the humid evening air.

As if we don't go through this every weekend.

I reach for the handle of dragon berry Bacardi and pour myself another shot. Deja frowns as I toss it back.

"You're trying to escape the party by getting too drunk before it starts," she accuses, eyes narrowed.

Dammit, she caught on. I need new tricks.

"I'm not only shocked, but also offended that you would think so lowly of me."

"Bet."

In reality, there's no way I'm getting out of this party. Deja would sooner drag me by my freshly straightened hair.

Thirty minutes later, we're tipsy and en route to the Beta house. Deja is describing in detail how I'm going to get laid tonight.

"And then, if you're really feeling adventurous, there's this move called The Orchid. You should probably make sure you're able to do a handstand before you try it, though."

Jesus fucking Christ, I think, and pinch the bridge of my nose. I wonder if I can rinse my ears out with holy water. I make a mental note to Google it later. 

I never thought I would be so happy to see a fraternity, but the brick pathway leading up to the massive house seems like a welcoming escape from this conversation. We step over red plastic cups and empty bottles littering the front lawn, the party already in full swing. Two big guys in yellow security t-shirts stand in the doorway, collecting money for entry.

I was shocked by this the first time we went to a frat party, but Kenny explained that they had to charge guys from outside the fraternity for entry in order to pay for the copious amounts of alcohol provided.

"Ladies," one of the guys at the door greets, stepping aside to wave us through.

I've taken exactly six steps into the house when an arm is slung around my shoulders and a cloud of smoke envelops the space around me. I glance up to see Connor standing between Deja and I, pulling us both close as a blunt hangs from between his lips.

"You made it," he cries, and I can already tell he's cross faded. Between the weed and the tequila on his breath, I'm not sure which scent is more overpowering.

I greet him and then discreetly take a step to the side.

Connor removes his arm from my shoulders and takes the blunt in his now free hand, using the other to pull Deja close and kiss her.

I stand there for what feels like several minutes, wondering when they'll come up for air.

Any minute now.

"Okay, I'm going to go grab a drink," I call out to nobody in particular, shooting finger guns at the pair. "So, uh, see ya."

There are several tables set up on the other side of the room, with probably a hundred bottles of various liquor and mixers spread across them. I walk over and grab an empty red cup from the dwindling stack and glance at the alcohol supply before picking up a bottle of Malibu. While it's not my first choice, I started the night with rum and should probably stick with it if I don't want to end up hugging the toilet.

I pour a generous amount into my cup and top it with Sprite. After taking one sip I add a little more rum, then turn to survey the room.

Kenny was right, this party is huge. I spot a few familiar faces in the crowd of people but nobody that I could just go up to and start a conversation with. I tip my cup back and chug my drink, not wanting to lose the buzz I already have.