Page 24 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
Around us, the party continues in full swing. Nobody gives us a second glance. When Ethan realizes that we're just two more people dancing at a crowded party, I watch the tension in his shoulders ease away completely.
"You know," he says, leaning in so I can hear him over the music, "you're not what I expected, Tyler Landis."
"Good unexpected or bad unexpected?"
He smiles, a real smile that reaches his eyes. "Definitely good."
When the song ends, we're standing closer than we started, and neither of us seems in a hurry to step away. Thesame magnetic pull I've felt since first seeing him across campus is stronger than ever.
"So, why did you think we'd be jerks?" I ask, curious about his earlier comment.
"Well—," he shrugs. "Things didn't go well last time I went to a frat party. It was all toxic masculinity, casual homophobia disguised as 'jokes,' and some outright gay bashing as the only form of entertainment. There were some impressive abs doing keg stands, but then one guy freaked out when I looked at his abs, so… I left early."
"We'll do more keg stands later. It's in the bylaws. The rest of that won't happen here."
He grins, then adds, "But seriously, you guys have been really cool. I've been to parties where I felt like I had to tone myself down, you know?" He gestures vaguely to his glittery outfit. "This isn't exactly screaming 'blend in.'"
"You shouldn't have to blend in,' with more feeling than expected. 'Besides, Delta Psi would be boring if everyone was the same.”
Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the eyes, a slight parting of lips. "That's... really nice to hear."
"Want to get some air?" My head nods toward the back porch.
Ethan nods, and I lead him through the house, hyperaware of him behind me. We head out to the back porch, where the cool October air feels nice after the hot, packed house. The string lights hanging from the awning cast everything in a soft glow.
We stand side by side at the railing, looking out into the darkness of the backyard. There's no one else out here, a rarity during parties.
"So," I start, then realize I have no idea what to say next. My usual confidence in conversation has abandoned me.
"So," Ethan echoes, a slight smile on his lips. "Tyler Landis, VP of Delta Psi Omega, rescuer of glittery nursing students in distress."
"That's me," I laugh, relieved by his playful tone. "Do you make a habit of needing rescue?"
"Only on Halloween," he grins. "Tonight was definitely an exception to my usual low-drama existence."
He leans a bit closer, his shoulder touching mine. Even that slight touch sends warmth through my arm, and I catch myself leaning into it instead of away. This is new to me, but with each passing minute, it feels less scary and more exciting.
Ethan's phone buzzes. His smile grows as he looks at the screen. "It's Sylas, my best friend. He's freaking out because I'm at a frat house. Wants to make sure I'm not being hazed or something."
"Tell him to come over," I suggest, surprising myself with how much I want Ethan to stay. "The more friends, the better."
Ethan raises an eyebrow. "Sylas isn't exactly... frat-friendly. He's got history."
"We're full of surprises," I counter. "Give us a chance to change his mind."
Something softens in Ethan's expression as he types a reply. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. He's in full Hedwig tonight. He's doing a show next week."
Before I can ask what that means, Ethan's phone rings. He answers with a laugh, "Yes, I'm fine! No, I'm not being held hostage. Yes, they really areinviting you..."
Thirty minutes later,we are back inside the packed living room when suddenly the crowd parts like the Red Sea, conversations dropping to whispers as all eyes turn toward the front entrance. I follow everyone's gaze to see a guy standing in the doorway, arms outstretched dramatically.
He's wearing a platinum blonde wig, the most intense eye makeup I've ever seen, platform boots that lace up to his thighs, and enough glitter to supply a craft store for months. Several fraternity brothers stand frozen, drinks halfway to their lips.
Holy shit. Is this... drag? Some kind of glam rock thing?I've seen guys in makeup at clubs before, but nothing this bold, this unapologetic. Especially not walking alone into a frat house.Whoever this guy is, he's got balls of steel.
I'm not sure if I should be concerned or impressed. The party has reached that tipping point where things could go either way; some of the guys from Epsilon Beta next door would react badly to this entrance. But this is my house, and in Delta Psi Omega, we don't do that shit.
"Has anyone seen my glittery little nursing student?" He announces to the room, voice carrying over the music. "I'm his emotional support drag queen!"
