Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I’m going to walk into Granite House and make them want me, I think now, as I near the house, already pulsing with music and voices. My stomach drops with anxiety.
I can do it. And I’ll get to sleep in my own bed tomorrow.
I can already hear the party from down the block. No wonder the cops get called regularly. I wouldn’t want to listen to this 24/7 either. And most of the houses around here are filled with students living nearby. If they’re the ones calling the cops, then you absolutely know that it’s serious.
Ugh. This is so not my scene. I hate parties. And party boys. I have no doubt that every one of the guys who live in Granite House fit that description. They’re here to get a degree while shuffling through their classes hungover, barely making the grades and taking advantage of the last years in their life that they won’t have any responsibility.
They’re not here for anything else. Not to learn, or to bond with their brothers the way the Tri Deltas unite with their sisters. They just want to party for all they’re worth.
I can already tell.
I see the house on the corner. It’s huge, and I get why they called it Granite House after the fraternity was disbanded. It’s a giant, square, colonial monstrosity. Three stories of rosy pink bricks and delicate pillars and balconies that have no place on a house that’s filled with such debauchery. But it looks solid, and the color of the bricks does look like granite from a distance.
But who knows...maybe they named it that because they thought that it sounded manly?
People are everywhere. Girls and guys with the classic red solo cups that are the quintessential part of every college party. I won’t be partaking of that, thank you very much.
I take a deep breath before turning the corner and heading up the stairs toward the pounding bass and cacophony of voices spilling out from the open doors and windows. I can do this, is the constant refrain in my head on repeat. It’s only one night. I can do this.
The heels I’m wearing wobble under my feet, and someone whistles as I walk up the stairs. I resist the urge to pull down the short skirt of the dress. All I need to do is find the leader and get this over with. Once he says yes, I’ll find a quiet corner and hide for the rest of the night.
A guy with dark hair and a clearly drunk smile leans against the doorframe. “Hey there, welcome to Granite House.” He tries to pass me a red cup, but I push it away.
“No thanks. I’m looking for the leader.”
He squints at me. “The leader of what?”
“Granite House.”
“Yeah, we don’t have a leader here.” He uses his fingers for air quotes while looking down his nose at me. “We’re not a frat anymore. Haven’t you heard?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, who decides who gets to live here.”
“It’s a vote.” His smile is now less drunk and more like he’s toying with me.
“Sure it is,” I say, about to give him a piece of my mind. But the memories of Taylor and Melody and the Tri Deltas fill my mind. If they were here, they’d tell me that this isn’t the way to get what I want. No, I need to be exactly who this guy thinks I am. I plaster on a smile. “Come on. You know what I’m asking, so show me who I’m looking for and maybe I’ll find you later and I’ll take that drink.”
He looks me up and down and takes in the dress that I’m wearing with one raised eyebrow. “The guy you’re looking for is Malcolm. He’s playing poker in the back.”
“Thanks.”
I drop the smile as soon as I’m past him. Malcom. I have a name at least. And he said toward the back. The back of where?
I weave through the party, scanning faces. The people I’m wading through are already drunk and it’s barely dark out. I guess this is what college means to them. It’s the day before classes start. I have no idea why anyone would want to get this drunk and go to class on their very first day with a hangover, but hey, to each their own, I guess.
What am I doing here? I wonder, not for the first time. But Tri Deltas aren’t like this. They don’t throw ragers. They might attend now and then, but once I’m a part of them, it won’t matter how many parties I show up to.
I’ll be part of a sisterhood, for good.
Tonight, though… Well. I wade through this mess. And hope that I can get the hell out of here by the time dawn breaks, since I have my first lab class tomorrow morning, early.