Short Story Collection

Frat House

It smelled like cheap perfume and beer shits. The boys wandered the hall wearing gym shorts and socks with sandals. They followed the smell of leftover pizza like moths to a flame. Any remaining girls snuck out the front door. They were barely clothed and had smeared makeup running down their face.

I peeled myself off the whiskey-stained carpet I had passed out on, 6 feet from my bed. Unlike the others I had class in the morning and needed to shower before I left. My roommate Noah was in our bathroom. His fingers pulled his eyelids down and stared at himself in the mirror.

"What are you doing Noah?" I asked.

"Learning," he said.

"Well get out. I need to use the shower," I said.

He didn't move. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and moved his face close to the mirror to see down his throat.

"Damnit Noah. I have class," I said.

"Go swimming," he said.

"We don't have a pool dumbass," I said.

"Not you, him," he said, gesturing to the shower.

I pushed my way past him and opened the curtain to the shower tub. Our other roommate Carl was passed out, still holding a bottle of whiskey.

"Swimming," Noah said.

I turned the shower on and sprayed the cold water on Carl's face. He sputtered and pushed his face over the edge of the tub.

"Get out Carl, I have to shower," I said.

"Why?" he asked rubbing his face with a towel.

"I have class douchebag. Now get out," I said.

"It's Saturday dude," he said before throwing up into the tub.

"Dumbass," Noah said.