Midnight Muse

I didn’t know I was going to walk into this.

Quinn and Rory don’t seem like the type of girls who would be able to pull this kind of party off. The music is blaring, putting the volume I listen to mine on to shame. There are colorful strobe lights flashing in the windows of the small house and out onto the lawn where a few people are playing some sort of drinking game that looks much too complicated for even a sober mind to figure out.

Bodies pack the house, spilling in and out of the door when I finally arrive, and I’m pretty sure the cops have already been called and stopped by more than once.

Apparently, Vulcan University’s football team has won their homecoming game.

Go Pintos, I guess.

I had taken my sweet time getting here, but as I glance around the yard while I make my way up to the craftsman that Rory’s older sister is renting, I can’t help the churn of nerves in my stomach. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party of this proportion; besides the ones Slate throws, I haven’t really been much into the partying scene at all. It’s a waste of my time and drinking only accentuates the trembling I sometimes experience in my hands.

Like right now, as I shove myself into the throng of people, looking for any sign of my friends. It’s more packed than the stadium probably was for the homecoming game itself, students more interested in getting shit-faced than watching dumbasses run back and forth with a ball.

There’s no one I know in the living room, but everyone is screaming out the lyrics to a song that is engrained in every college student’s mind. The furniture has been shoved up against the walls and the crowd is going wild, jumping up and down with the beat. The floors shake beneath my feet as I worm my way through the first archway I reach.

My shoulders droop a little as I enter the kitchen. There are less people in here and I admire the interior decorator’s quirkiness as I take in the baby pink tiles and blue walls. This must be every girl’s dream, a colorful kitchen with bottles upon bottles of alcohol lined up on the butcher-block island in the middle of the space.

My friends are here too. Slate’s cheeks are ruddy with drink, his eyes bright and glossy. He looks like he would be two seconds away from slipping into the living room to find a girl to spend the night with if he wasn’t already openly flirting with one of the girls in front of him. I can only assume she’s Rory’s sister’s roommate. Ace is leaning against the countertop, his deep cerulean eyes settled on Rory where she’s giggling with her sister over something. They keep sneaking glances between him and the boy who has his arm slung over Quinn’s shoulder.

My steps falter as I stare. She seems happy, laughing and elbowing the guy in his side when he leans down to whisper something in her ear. Sweet Jesus, that smile is…something. Her rosy lips are stretched wide, showing off those perfectly straight, white teeth. Paired with the glint to her eyes and the crinkle to her button nose, she’s gorgeous.

“Knox,” Slate cheers, bounding over to me. I blink, peeling my gaze away from Quinn before she can catch me in the act of observing her. He shoves an open beer into my hand and it sloshes over the rim, dripping over my skin. “You made it!”

I glare for a second, hastily licking the drink from my hand, before flicking my gaze quickly back to Quinn to see how she reacts to my presence. She was probably hoping that I wasn’t going to show up, that I ditched them all. I bet she was happy, cuddling up to this guy who’s refilling her cup with liquor.

Those blazing hazel eyes are glued to me, watching me as I tongue the droplets of spilled beer off of my skin.

Her throat works around a swallow and something in my chest tightens at the sight.

Suddenly, I want her throat to work around swallowing something else.

Fuck, maybe I should stay away from drinking tonight if this is how it’s going to go. She doesn’t even like me for fuck’s sake, and I’m not too keen on her, either. Or, at least, I’m not supposed to be.

“What’s up, man?” I greet back, focusing my attention on my roommate so I don’t smirk at Quinn like I want to. I can still feel her eyes on me, following me as I move deeper into the kitchen, nodding politely at everyone Slate introduces me to.

“Isn’t this house sick?” Slate grins eagerly, “It’s Peep’s. She’s Rory’s older sister and her name is really Pipa, but they call her Peep for short. Isn’t that the cutest?”

“Yeah,” I agree, distractedly, taking a swig of my drink. I can’t control myself, glancing back over to Quinn where she’s now taking shots with Rory, Ace, and that other guy. “Super cute.”

Slate catches what I’m looking at and makes a noise of outrage, barreling past me and shouting about how they promised not to do shots without him. I shake my head fondly at my roommate, trailing him because I don’t know anyone else here and the way one of Pipa’s roommates is making eyes at me has my skin crawling.

I catch the tail end of their cheers. “Riding with pride since 1869!”

“That has to be one of the worst school slogans I’ve ever heard,” the guy I don’t know laughs. He seems to be sticking to Quinn like glue and I’m not sure why it’s bothering me so much, but it is.

He has sandy brown hair, and strikingly similar eyes to Quinn’s. His sharp jaw is covered in scruff and he looks like an actor that I can’t quite put my finger on. Either way, I already don’t like him.

“Really? It’s one of the best I’ve heard,” Slate grins, slamming his shot glass back onto the counter. “It’s like, my life motto.”

Quinn grimaces at her drink and I bite back my smile of amusement. She’s only managed to down half of the shot, choking a little before slyly dumping the other half into the nameless guy’s cup.

He catches her and shoots her a look but she only ducks her head, offering him a sheepish grin.

“Knox,” Ace calls, snapping my attention away from her. He’s holding out a shot to me now and I take it, ignoring the questioning look he sends me when he notices the finite tremble of my hand. “You need to catch up,” he continues, although now there’s a weary twinge to his tone. I need Rory to come over here and distract him before he starts questioning me.

Plastering a fake grin on my face, I take the shot. I immediately want to spit it out because what the actual hell am I drinking right now? Maybe Quinn had the right idea, after all.

Speaking of, the music in the living room switches to something different, something with a little more beat and a little less words. It’s the kind of song that makes everyone want to grind, and apparently, Rory and Quinn are no different because the former is dragging the latter out of the room with the biggest smile on her face.