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I stand frozen still.
Confused.
Mortified.
I look around for Parker, hoping he’s stepped outside in his search for Amy, and make a run for the door.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I stop once I hear my voice over the speakers. I look over my shoulder and stare at the screen again, watching a clip of me taking a shot with Amy.
“Why are you sleeping with Parker Dalton if you don’t consider him to be your boyfriend?” she asks.
“Maybe I keep hoping that the sex will get better one day. He is the president of Omega Chi and a future politician. I’m just using him.”
“Is the sex that bad?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t like him at all?”
“No.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“No. He’s just my meal ticket to a better life. Could you pour me another shot? More alcohol, less talking.”
I don’t remember that conversation, but I know I must have been drunk out of my mind if I ever talked about something personal with Amy. With anyone.
I head for the door again and see Parker standing in the corner. He’s shaking his head and looking utterly devastated. Crushed.
I make my way over to him—planning to tell him that the sex with his frat brother happened way before we met, but his eyes suddenly meet mine. He gives me a death stare, and without moving his lips he says, “We’re fucking done.”
I feel tears pricking at the corner of my eyes and head towards him anyway. I want to ask him to take me back to his room tonight so we can talk about this, so I can explain, but he disappears.
The “ooohs” and “ahhs” from the crowd become louder and louder and I tell myself to keep going, to forget about whatever is playing behind me and go back to my room, but I can’t help it.
I see myself emptying a small bottle of alcohol into the pink thermos I carry around every day. Then the video cuts to me rolling a small blunt of weed at my desk.
My blood is running cold and I can’t stop my heart from pounding a mile a minute. I’m embarrassed, but I’m also infuriated. Beyond infuriated.
I catch Amy standing near the back of the room, behind a tall stack of crates.
She’s laughing along with everyone else, and mid-laugh I see her raising a remote and pressing a button, stopping tonight’s masterpiece from going any further.
The crowd is clapping, yelling “Slutty freshman bitch!” “It’s okay, Parker!” and “Bros before Hos!” The noise is deafening and the girls in the crowd—the ones who recognize me as the star of the show, are smirking and pointing, snapping pictures on their cell phones.
“Alright! Alright! Back to the fucking party!” The DJ’s voice comes over the speakers and the music blasts again, but I can’t hear anything but the taunts.
I narrow my eyes at Amy and take several deep breaths before I react. I keep my eyes locked on her as I think about what Leah would do in this situation. Settling on an answer, I walk across the dance floor, watching Amy’s eyes widen as I approach.
One of the girls standing nearby crosses her arms and steps in front of her. I roll my eyes and push her out of the way.
“This is why you invited me out tonight?” I’m in Amy’s face, ten seconds away from punching her. “What exactly was the point you were trying to make?”
“I told you I wanted Parker on move in day. That was one of the first things I said.”
“And I told you he wasn’t attracted to you. He said that. He was very clear.”
“You just hadddd to bat your big green eyes at him didn’t you? I told you that he and I grew up together, that he and I were best friends, and you just—”
“Are you fucking kidding me, bitch?”
She opens her mouth to say something else, but I turn away and walk off.
If I was in New Jersey, I would be beating her into the ground right now, but this is college. And since her friends outnumber mine (six plus to zero), I have to be more strategic...
––––––––
I run the full five miles back to campus, letting an unfamiliar wetness fall down my cheeks. My chest is burning and my body is begging me to stop, to slow down because it hurts to drive on the empty fumes of alcohol.
But I don’t stop.
I run faster and faster, until I make it to my room.
I strip out of my clothes, cover myself in a robe, and rush into the communal shower down the hall.
There’s no one else in any of the other stalls—I double check, so I step inside the one at the end and turn the water on the hottest bearable setting.
I hold my face underneath the scalding streams and tell myself to suck everything up, that crying never solves a goddamn thing, but I can’t help it. The tears are falling as fast as the water, and my chest is heaving uncontrollably—shaking my body so violently that it’s hard to stand up straight.
