Page 6 of Dial A for Aunties

“About the party at Phi Kappa?”

A grimace takes over my face. “A frat party? What about it?”

“Um, do you wanna go? My friend’s a member, and he says their parties are great. I don’t know, could be fun.”

“You do realize a frat party is where every bad thing happens? Alcohol poisoning, date rape, hazing...”

“Okay, okay.” Nathan laughs. “I get it, you don’t have to go.”

Argh, why do I have to be such a killjoy? I do want to go. I just—I don’t know, I guess I’m deathly afraid that Nathan might realize I’m into him, and that would be massively embarrassing.

Thankfully, the microwave dings then. Nathan busies himself with taking out the mug cake. He moves so effortlessly around the shared kitchen, always with this liquid grace that reminds me of some feline creature. Like a lion, or a lynx. He sprinkles freshly cut chives over the mug cake and slides it over to me. I thank him even though I’ve lost my appetite.

“Anyway, I gotta go. I promised Matt I’d hit the gym with him.”

“Thanks for the cake,” I say in the world’s most casual voice. “Have a good workout,” I call out at the last minute, and then immediately regret it. That sounded like nagging.

He flashes me that grin again, and is gone. I slump back to my room. Selena barely looks up from her calculus textbook when I flop dramatically onto my bed. “Blue balls?” she says, scribbling in her notebook.

“The bluest balls,” I groan into my pillow.

“Pretty sure the book’s calledThe Bluest Eye.”

I turn my head and glare at her. “You’re not very empathetic.”

“Did he ask you to go to the Phi Kappa party?”

“How did you know about that?”

Selena rolls her eyes. “Because I have a social life? And Nathan was very casually asking if you were going.”

I groan. “I am the worst at parties. If he ever saw me at one, he’d realize I am the most unamazing person in the world.”

“That’s why you haven’t gone to any parties here?” Selena gawks at me. “Boy, you have issues. Okay. It’s settled. You’re going to this one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, you can’t make me, I won’t. I won’t!”

•••

Friday night, Selena and I stand outside Phi Kappa, a house that’s quite literally vibrating with music. I mean, I can actually see the windows rattling with each deep bass beat.

“This is a bad idea,” I moan. The only parties I like are the sit-around-playing-board-games kind.

“Focus,” Selena says, grabbing me by the shoulders. “You look hot as shit, and we’re gonna go in there and you’re gonna find Nathan, and I’m gonna find some hot girl or guy, whichever comes first, and we’re both gonna score tonight.”

“Score?” I squeak.

“You know, smash?”

I narrow my eyes at her.

“Bone? Coitus? Do I really have to say ‘sexual intercourse’?”

My voice comes out several octaves higher than most human voices usually go. “I wasn’t going to—I’m not ready to—”

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