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I went to the kitchen, looking for the holy grail of college frat parties: water. It turned out dancing made you hot, and when you were in a crowd of people, it also made you sweat. Drinking anything besides water right now would be a mistake.
I couldn’t find anything bottled, so I settled for grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and getting some tap water. Not my favorite, but tap water was cheap. I’d drank more tap water than I cared to admit these last ten years. Don’t ask me how; the unfiltered water at my dad’s house was one of the worst things to put on your taste buds. Hard water.
Once the glass was full, I turned around, leaning my backside on the counter. I brought the glass to my lips, taking a sip as my eyes surveyed the area. Everyone else seemed to be having fun. I wouldn’t say Iwasn’thaving fun, but…
Someone walked up to me with a smile on their face; a guy. He wore tight dark jeans that hugged his legs and an equally dark blue shirt. The color made his eyes pop; they were a beautiful blue hue. With shaggy black hair on top of his head, the sides trimmed short, he was the opposite of ugly.
“Didn’t you get the memo? You’re not supposed to drink water at parties like this,” he spoke with a grin. He grabbed a red cup and poured himself a drink out of a keg placed on the island. The only reason I heard him over the music was because the speakers were far enough away they didn’t pound inside my ears.
“I must’ve missed that one,” I said, feeling my lips curl into a smile of their own accord.
After he got his drink, he came to stand beside me, mimicking my stance as he took a sip from his cup. “That’s because you missed the last meeting. We go over the rules every Thursday.”
I laughed, which caused him to look at me. He stood a good seven or so inches taller than me; not super tall for a guy, but tall enough to be comfortable. Not like Creed, who was practically a giant compared to me.
“I’m Brandon,” he said.
“Taylor.”
“You go to school at SCC? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”
I shrugged. “I do, but I usually avoid parties like this.” I took another sip of water, shifting my gaze away from Brandon. The more I looked at him, the cuter he got. And those eyes of his… they were strikingly blue.
“I can’t imagine why,” he joked. “You look like you’re having so much fun.”
Again, I laughed. “It’s not my scene.”
“Hmm.” He made a thoughtful sound. “So, what is your scene, then? For research purposes.”
“I don’t know.” I tried to think of something witty to say, but nothing came to my mind, so I ended up simply saying, “I guess I don’t really have a scene.” God, that sounded lame. I knew it, he knew it, and if the rest of the people at this party had heard that, they’d know it, too.
Though I thought Brandon would leave, he didn’t. He must’ve thought I was playing a game, because he grinned and said, “Mysterious type. I like it.” The next time he took a sip from his cup, his blue eyes never broke eye contact with mine. He was locked in a staring contest with me over the rim of his cup.
I quietly drank the rest of my water, because I didn’t know what else to say to him. Talking to attractive guys wasn’t my forte.
Brandon took the lead, asking, “You here with anyone tonight?”
At that, I shook my head no, but then I added, “I mean, I came with my friend, but that’s it. No, uh, boyfriends or anything.” At the mention of the word boyfriend, my cheeks heated up, and I looked away and down, letting my hair cover part of my face. A small shield so Brandon didn’t see how lame I was.
“Perfect.” He flashed his teeth at me in another smile, and he set his cup down on the kitchen counter, flicking a thumb over his shoulder. “You want to dance?” When I shook my head awkwardly, he asked, “How about going into the hall? It’s quieter there. We could talk more, if you want.” The expression he gave me right then made me feel like he’d be okay with doing a lot more than just talking.
Everything Beth had said earlier popped up in my head. My slut era. How long it’d been, how high school boys were nothing compared to college guys. How more experience usually ended up meaning a better time… and longer.
I couldn’t. Could I?
My mouth moved before I thought up my answer: “We could go in the hall.”
Brandon grinned. He grabbed his drink off the counter and led the way. I threw a glance over my shoulder, spotting Beth still dancing away. We locked eyes for only a few moments, and Beth gave me an overdramatic wink. It made me roll my eyes—or it would’ve, if I then didn’t immediately return all of my focus to Brandon, who I followed out of the apartment.
The party had overflowed even more into the hall. I walked with him down the long hall, keeping up with him even in my heels, though don’t ask me how. We turned into an adjacent hall, fewer people there to crowd us. A small lounge sat near a group of windows, and he claimed a sofa cushion, patting the one beside him as he took another drink.
Now that the music wasn’t in the background, it was just Brandon and me, and I realized we were pretty much alone. This was definitely a situation I’d never been in before, and I wasn’t quite sure how I should handle it.
“So, Taylor,” he spoke my name with that cute grin, “how is your Friday night going?”
“Better now,” I said, and his smile grew bigger. I think he liked hearing that. “How’s yours?”
“I’ll let you know.”
