Once she disappeared out the door, I could finally breathe. Between her looks and rapid-fire questioning, she commanded an audience and dominated a conversation. I wasn’t used to someone so…forward. But she was my new roommate, so I’d make it work.
***
I curled my normally straight hair and threw on skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder navy shirt, hoping to make my blue eyes pop. I brushed on a little blush and swiped on some mascara, making my already long lashes extend further. I was in the midst of curling my eyelashes when Chantel breezed into the room a little before nine.
“Almost ready?” she asked as she pulled off her T-shirt in front of the closet, sans bra.
“Yup.” I averted my eyes as she took her time searching for a shirt. If only I had that much confidence.
“I can’t wait to introduce you to my sorority sisters.”
I focused on curling my eyelashes, not wanting to turn around until I was sure she was dressed.
“How do I look?” she asked.
I held my breath as I twisted around. Phew. She stood there in a short denim skirt and a white crop top that showed not only her toned stomach but accentuated her perfect boobs. “Nice.”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” she asked, a tinge of disapproval in her tone as her eyes drifted over my outfit.
I glanced down. “Do I not look all right?”
She hesitated. “You look fine.”
Her words played through my mind again as we entered her sorority sisters’ room on the fourth floor. The space was the same size as ours but filled with girls all wearing the same outfit—tiny denim skirts but different colored crop tops. Apparently, I hadn’t gotten the memo.
All conversations ceased and eyes turned toward me. The girls assessed me from head to toe. I’d never felt more uncomfortable in my life, knowing a roomful of sorority girls were sizing me up all at once.
“Hi,” they said in unison, breaking into a bout of laughter once they realized how they sounded.
I lifted my hand. “Hey.”
Chantel closed the door behind us and bottles of wine were passed around. A few girls asked about my sophomore status and where I lived, but besides that, I sat back and listened to them chat about guys, their summers, who they planned to hook up with this year, and rush week coming up soon. It was obvious Chantel was their leader. She ruled the conversation, and they all quieted when she spoke.
“So, Maine, huh?” the only other brunette in the room asked as she sat down beside me on the floor.
“Yup.”
“Didn’t like the cold?” she asked.
I shook my head, realizing I’d have to have the same conversation with each new person I met. “Not at all.”
She laughed. “I’m Valerie.”
“Sophia.”
“Yeah, I know. Chantel filled us in before you got here.”
I cringed.
“Don’t worry,” she smiled. “It wasn’t bad.”
“I heard she was supposed to have another roommate. I hope she’s not too upset she got stuck with me instead.”
I expected Valerie to laugh and tell me Chantel was excited to have me, but she didn’t. She shrugged.
My eyes widened. “She is pissed.”
Valerie grinned. “She would’ve loved a single.”
Freaking great.
A short time later we walked across campus, the loud cackles from the large group carrying through the darkness. I felt like an outsider as I followed behind, trying to politely listen to their conversations but saying very little.
We moved toward a large white house with black shutters. A big Greek K hung on the peaked roof above the second floor. The rumble of loud music playing inside the house vibrated the pavement beneath our feet as we moved up the sidewalk.
“Hey!” called a guy from the front door.
The girls waved or called back to him.
He turned his head and shouted inside, “The Alpha Phis are here. Lock the door to the roof.”
Knots of unease formed in my stomach. Had he actually just made a joke about Sydney Lane’s death? I glanced around and none of the girls seemed angry about his comment. My eyes collided with Valerie’s. Her twisted lips told me she was the only one who understood my surprise—and disgust.
We reached the front door, held open by the jerk who’d made the comment. The girls all filed inside, greeting him as they passed by. I moved through the doorway last, purposely stepping on his foot on my way by. “Oops.”
His death glare told me he knew I’d done it on purpose. Huh. He was smarter than I gave him credit for.
Chantel led the way as I trailed the girls, wondering why I agreed to go to a party in the first place. This really wasn’t my thing. We walked down a crowded hallway where guys and girls drank from red cups, turning their bodies to make room for us to move by. Guys ogled the Alpha Phis, while the other girls—who probably just realized they’d have competition—looked away in disgust.
We passed through an open door at the end of the hallway that led down a small set of stairs. Music reverberated through the tight stairwell which eventually opened up to a large basement. Guys and girls danced in the middle of the tiled floor while others drank and mingled around the room or at the bar that lined the back wall.
Many heads turned when the Alpha Phis paraded in. The girls definitely loved the attention, but I wondered if they loved each other. They were friendly, but I couldn’t tell if they were friends or just acting the part.
I veered from the group and took a spot by the wall, checking my phone.
“You need a drink?”
I glanced up to find a guy with a shaved head holding out a cup.
I eyed the cup. “No offense, but I’ve seen too many Lifetime movies to know there could be something other than flat beer in that cup.”
He laughed, downing the contents of the cup to show he hadn’t laced the beer.
“One can never be too safe. Predators come in all shapes and sizes,” I assured him.
He laughed again. “Let’s get you a cup straight from the keg.”
I nodded.
He walked me to the bar, calling to a guy to pour me a beer.
I watched the guy pour it before he handed it to me. “Thanks,” I said before turning to Mr. Shaved Head. “I’m Soph—” But he’d disappeared.
O-kay.
I moved back to the side of the room and drank my beer as I watched Chantel and her sisters dance on the dance floor, some with guys and some in a group together.
Chantel had her arms wrapped tightly around a tall guy who had his face buried in her neck. I couldn’t see his face, but my guess was he was either the president of the frat or the best-looking guy in that dark basement. Chantel didn’t seem the type to settle for anything less. His massive arms were wrapped around her waist, and he must’ve been doing or saying something to elicit the laughter tumbling out of her.
I spotted some of the other girls dancing together. Valerie, though just as pretty as the others, looked out of place in the group. Maybe it was her dark hair. Or, maybe it was the strange way her eyes looked devoid of light around the other girls. One on one, she seemed fine. But in the middle of the group, she looked…uncomfortable.
“Drink up,” the guy with the shaved head said, leaning against the wall beside me again. “It’s a party. Have fun.”