Now That You Are Here

Take A Freaking Hint

"Reign! There you are!"

Oh my god. No. I'm going to this party now, no doubt. There's absolutely no way I'm getting out of this. The only downside to being forced to do this, besides the couple I've already listed, is the girl dragging me in. Kelsey Stratford. Kelsey, Kelsey, Kelsey. The head girl of Kappa Alpha Theta or KAT. She is my worst nightmare. No joke. My literal worst nightmare. I have night terrors about this moment, and here it is. Happening in real life because all your dreams come true. 

"I didn't think you were going to show."

I didn't want to but Kelsey, you are about to force me to go inside the sweaty ass party that I don't give a shit about. Pardon my french. She holds out her hand for me to take, and I know I have no choice. I have a choice to run and get kicked out onto the street or go inside the fraternity house, which I don't care for. The whole idea of a sorority and/or fraternity isn't the most intincing thing for me. 

I have never been interested in being here, and I want to leave. So maybe I should run. No, I can't. My parents would literally kill me. I would probably be disowned. It would be my death sentence. I can't do that to my family. I don't want to be disowned nor do I want to have to find another place to live.

"Um...Reign. Let's fucking go."

Alright, alright. It's not your fucking death sentence you have to worry about. All I wanted was to eat cookie dough ice cream in peace while watching James Dean. I fucking love James Dean. He's such a dreamboat. That's all I wanted, was to watch Mr. Hotty Dreamboat, and here I am getting yanked into a party. Gosh, I hate this girl. 

She has no idea when she needs to take a freaking hint. I'm clearly pulling away from her grasp as she pulls me inside, and yet, she doesn't let go. Let go of my fucking arm little psycho lady. Not that I have any right to judge. I talk to myself all the freaking time. Okay, now I sound psycho. I'm related to my family, so it wouldn't be much of a surprise. I look around at all the sweaty bodies and roll my eyes in disgust. 

"Reign. Just survive an hour and you'll be good to go."

An hour? Kelsey wants me to survive this for a fucking hour? Is she crazy? I can barely handle listening to all the girls around the house for three minutes. I certainly don't think this is a good idea. I won't be surprised if some blood is shed tonight. I mean, I already heard one fight happen, why can't another? 

The only thing that's not going to happen is a guy fighting over me. That has never happened to me before, and I might actually appreciate it for a while. Yes, I think it could get a little annoying, but I don't think I'd mind too much. Two hot guys, young James Dean and young Marlon Brando going head to head to the death. For a taste of the sorority slut. 

That should be a movie! I would watch the hell out of that! Fuck!

I chew on my bottom lip as I try to make my way through the sea of people. Try being the keyword. I'm getting knocked in all directions, thanks to my small size. I know I'm small people, but there's no need to pretend I don't fucking exist. I somehow make my way to the kitchen to not find one soda anywhere. I've never really been a big drinker. 

I am still underage for one, but in highschool I wasn't friends with a lot of people that would remotely have any access to alcohol. Not that I was friends with a lot of people. That brings me back to my parents. Everything seems to go back to my parents. It's weird. I think I'm making excuses for not wanting to be friends with anyone, and it's working. If it's not broke, don't fix it.

Anyway, my parents feel like chains. The chains could be protecting you from the harshness of the outside world. Of the lies and betrayal that seem to hide behind every corner. They can protect from the world's problems, and yet, they hold you back. You don't experience anything, so when you finally break free, you have zero clue of what it's like being independent. 

You already feel blind about the world as an adult with a somewhat regular family, and then you add in the fact that I wasn't allowed to have friends, and everything gets a little more complicated.

I have never been good at talking to people because of my parents. What annoys me most is that I still want to please them. I still want them to be proud of me...and love me. I don't want to disappoint them, but I know there's no way that I can have their full support about anything. Except if I'm getting something for them. They supported my decision to go to college because I would get an education to make money for them, so they could retire early. 

When I'm the one that really needs the money. I'm a college student, pretty much completely broke. I have a car, thank god, but there's a ton of rich guys next door. One of them could be my sugar daddy. That's actually not a bad idea. Oh, actually no thank you. I forgot that I'm not an object for a second. That doesn't seem like my type of thing.

Not only that, with having no friends comes no experience with boys. That's why I went out with a guy like Houston. He wasn't a bad boy by any rate, but he had a beating up people streak. He was like Noah Flynn from The Kissing Booth without the sex appeal, handsomeness, leather jacket, motorcycle, or player way. 

Okay, so, I would call Houston a bully. A total jackass. The only reason I went out with him was because he was something new. Something my parents might not approve of. I didn't rebel in high school, and since my parents still think I'm in high school, why not rebel a little?

What I didn't anticipate was that they found out Houston's family had money. And lots of it. The one thing my parents love more than forcing me to do stuff I don't want to do, is money. Money that will somehow fill the void of having a disappointing daughter it seems. I only found out Houston was cheating three days ago, and my parents already know. 

They wanted me to marry him one day. No, thank you. I would rather marry a guy I actually love. I don't want a marry a guy because he has money. I don't care about that. I want a guy who can support himself, even if it's the bare minimum. If he's nice, kind, generous, has some muscles, is handsome, and doesn't cheat on me, I think that's all I need.

I shake my head. I look around the kitchen one more time before searching for a window I could get through. Unsurprisingly, I have a limited amount of choices. One, I could climb through the kitchen window behind the people I think are having sex against the counter. Two, I could try to move through the sea of people and walk out the front door or climb out the front windows. Three, I could make my way upstairs and shimmy down a drain pipe. Option one sucks. Option two is how I'm going to get caught.

Option three it's not bad, but I really don't want to nose dive into plants. Plants that maybe are already dying. Not that it matters. I stand there for a second and start to debate my options. Making my final decision, I weave through more people, trying to find the staircase. I somehow find it, but what I don't anticipate is my arms being grasped. 

Fuck, that hurts. You don't have to be that rough whoever you are. I look up to find two burly men, definitely frat boys, looking down at me. Another man stands in front of me, and for some reason I feel like I'm about to be tortured in a basement. Not that I've ever been tortured in a basement. I don't want to be tortured in general. It doesn't even work. 

People just say random bullshit, hoping it's what you want them to say. How I know that, I don't know, but I think that's an actually proven fact now. Ah! Y'all assholes aren't getting anything out of me. I watched Casino. I know what'll go down. I really don't, but I'm trying not to freak out, so I'm just going to talk to myself in my head. That's how I defend myself. I don't recommend this strategy.