Page 8 of Freshmeet
What a way to get back into the party scene . . .
Drunk co-eds crowded around, watching even drunker co-eds play rowdy games of flip cup and pong. One of the perks of Northeast Missouri State was that the Greek system lacked the stereotypical rivalry and general douchebaginess you’d see in movies and TV. That’s not to say things didn’t get heated during Homecoming or Greek Week, but usually the frats and sororities peacefully coexisted.
We commandeered the backmost beer pong table, giving us the perfect vantage point for the night. Rae poured fresh water into the cups, a change that came after the great mono outbreak of spring semester. The game was now based on the honor system. They sink a cup, and you drink from your own—no risk of spreading communicable diseases.
“Winner buys the first round at trivia next week,” Mona hollered over the thumping bass. Kat slid next to her, and they did the little handshake they’d perfected over a decade of friendship.
“Game on!” Rae and Britta took the other side, and Olivia and I leaned against the wall.
Per the usual, Rae dominated the game. With her exceptional hand-eye coordination and ridiculous arm span, it really wasn’t fair to let her play against us.
“And that’s game.” Rae threw her hands in the air and marched around the table in victory.
Leave it to the girl from a family of professional athletes to be a sore winner.
Kat and Mona hung their heads, clinging to one another as they pretended to cry. Kat patted under her eyes and then checked her fingertips. “Huh. I thought I could get at least one tear.” She detangled herself from Mona and cleared her throat. “I guess it’s good I gave up on being a theater major.”
“We’re next!” Olivia grabbed my bicep and pulled me toward the table. After setting the cups up in a pyramid, Rae bent her arm to make the first shot.
“Is that Hunter?” Kat yelled and pointed at the door, causing Rae to toss the ball wildly.
We all laughed as Rae whipped around, looking at the dance floor.
“Oh, my mistake,” Kat said, her dark-rimmed eyes wide and innocent.
“You suck.” Rae let out a relieved sigh and took a big drink. “I don’t think I have it in me to turn him down. Again.”
Kat patted her back and went back to her spot on the wall.
“I’m not drunk enough for this yet.” Britta’s shot missed, and she groaned.
Olivia made hers and celebrated with a bit of ass shaking, bumping into me and the table.
“Ma’am, you need to watch yourself. You nearly knocked our cups over.”
Laughing, she straightened them. “Sorry.”
I lined my hand up with their cups and brought my wrist back three times before releasing, successfully sinking a cup. Ass to ass, Olivia and I shimmied and shook, making all the girls laugh.
“Roll’em back!” Olivia shouted. The song changed, and she jumped. “Oh! Forget the game! This is my song!”
Before I said a word, she grabbed my hand and shouldered her way up the tiered dance floor. Having made it to the top, she started to dance—hard.
From our vantage point, I could see the entire party, and to my surprise and horror, there, next to the other Frattic girls, was Mr. Hottie McHotterson. Not only was he next to them, but he was talking to Kat. And she was smiling! I was officially donedancing and wanted to march over there and find out what was so damn delightful.
As I leaned in to tell Olivia I needed to go back to the girls, both Kat and my mystery man turned towards us. Kat smirked, then pointed at me. The beautiful guy nodded and started toward me.
I froze. All the bodies around me kept dancing, but I couldn’t move as his long legs ate up the distance between us. His tall, muscular body moved smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine. My skin flushed under his gaze, and the anticipation of his arrival made me a little jittery. I struggled to take a full breath of the thick, humid air, squeezing my cup until the plastic creaked. The chorus ended, and he finally stepped up the levels of the stage.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking and ran smack into one of the speakers hanging from the ceiling. He reached up to his forehead and rubbed, glaring at the speaker as if it had swung into him. I covered my mouth but couldn’t stifle the laughs spilling out of me.
When the song changed, my laugh carried over the chatter, and he finally looked back at me, a slight smile on his lips. He stepped right next to me and bent down, his cologne or soap or whatever it was, blocking out the smelly party. “I know how to make an entrance, huh?”
I barked out a laugh right in his face, and he reared back, but I grabbed his arm before his head hit the speaker again. Standing on my tippy toes, I shouted, “You’re memorable, that’s for sure.” Pulling back, he smiled at me. And good Lord, that smile nearly knocked me on my ass. Up close, I could see he had dark blond hair and light blue eyes. At least that was my guess in between the flashing lights.
“I could say the same for you.” He glanced down at my modest dress. “Despite the macabre dress, you look amazing.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks heated. “I like your shirt.” The colorful lights hitting the white made him stand out even more against the sea of skanky mourners.
