Tainted Me

Chapter 17: Party Up (past)

THREE YEARS AGO

I laughed my ass off.

"I swear it's true, man," I insisted.

My little brother in the fraternity, Mauri, chuckled as he shook his head. He reminded me of Frisco, which got me a little protective.

He also had that nice dude act going for him and shit. No doubt, I planned on corrupting him like we did to Frisco. For fucking sure.

Since I was bored as fuck with my own crappy life, this was a fun new hobby. Mentoring Mauri made me forget the pressure from all around because he looked at me with those hero-worship eyes.

This was probably what it felt like to have a real little brother.

I liked it.

"You should take up law," he said, nodding his head as he sized me up. "Your evasive skills will be useful in court."

I made a face. "That's your dream. It ain't mine."

"What's your dream, then?"

I shrugged. "Haven't really thought about it. I'm only good for football."

"Maybe 'cause you haven't tried anything else."

"I don't have time for anything else."

He sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You need a breather, Alfie. All this expectation will kill you."

I snorted. "Dude, this is my breather." I raised my red solo cup and gestured to the party around us.

Oz stopped attending these kinds of parties when Halo attended this school year. I didn't wanna be a damn jackass and hound my best friend to come with me when he was more than satisfied to stay at home with his girlfriend.

This had been my fucking outlet ever since I arrived here. Drinking to get that perfect buzz helped me forget all that choking pressure, while surrounding myself with people through partying helped cover the loneliness.

Was I happy? Nah. But this was better than fucking nothing.

Our fraternity president passed by and spotted me. He grinned and nodded, before coming over. He didn't look very intimidating for someone who controlled a house full of college men. In fact, he looked pretty friendly and approachable.

But then, that was exactly why he won.

"How's it going, QB1?" Jags asked.

My jaw clenched at hearing that nickname.

Everyone fucking called me that just because I was starting quarterback for the university's team. I used to love it, but now it just reminded me that I couldn't escape it no matter where I went.

"Not much, Chief," I answered, because I still knew my manners. "You?"

"My classes have been killing me," he replied, with a sigh. "I'd give anything not to attend classes and still pass with flying colors like you."

It wasn't like I had a fucking choice. Our training regime was hectic as hell. All football players were given free passes when it came to schoolwork, because we couldn't be bothered. That was how intense they took football around here.

It was fucking religion.

Besides, with most of our classmates taking pictures of us instead of actually listening in class and the professors getting pissed because of the distraction, it was easier to just skip it. And they let us.