Monroe threw her head back and laughed. “Can we please call him Oz from now on?”

“Sure, he’d love that.” I smirked. “He’d probably threaten me again.”

“Whatever.” Monroe rummaged on the floor and grabbed a tight t-shirt and short jean skirt. “Here.” She tossed them at my face.

I caught them. Both pieces of clothing were smaller than the tank top I wore to bed. How was that supposed to work?

“Um, Monroe, this outfit is kind of—”

She rolled her eyes. “Wear flip flops so you don’t look as tall, and we’ll give you a leather jacket. It will look awesome. Trust me.”

I wasn’t sure I could trust anything coming from her mouth, considering she was the one wearing a purple get up that would make the Jersey Shore blush.

“Are you sure I should go? I don’t know, Nixon and I got in a fight and—”

“I need you!” She stood to her full height and stomped her foot. “I need a wing person.”

“For Tex? You’re kidding right?”

“Please?” She jutted out her bottom lip.

I glared, but she kept giving me that pitiful stare of hers. “Fine, I’ll go.” I had a really bad feeling about this party.

Chapter Eight

Note to self — if you have a bad feeling about something… If your gut is twisting at the idea of following through with a bad choice… Just say no. Do not be a yes person. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Maybe if I closed my eyes I’d become invisible. I tried it again. Nope. No such luck. Crap.

“Monroe, I should go,” I yelled above the music.

“No! Stay!” She was dancing with Tex. I mean, I guess you could call it dancing. His hands were everywhere, and honestly I was waiting in anticipation for Nixon to punch him in the nose for holding his sister that close.

But Nixon was nowhere to be found.

Not that I was looking for him.

And even if I was looking for him, it was only out of self-preservation and survival. Like on the Discovery channel, when the antelope see a lion. They don’t just hang out and give the lion a chance. No, they run like hell.

“Okay, five more minutes,” I chanted to Monroe, but she was too busy making out with Tex. Hmm, I’d never really found red heads attractive, but he was kinda cute. When his tongue was in his mouth and he wasn’t completely drunk and humping my roommate.

So basically he was cute this afternoon. Tonight? Not so much.

“Hey, New Girl,” a male voice said from behind me.

I turned.

Phoenix stood there two drinks in hand. His Harvard good looks would get him far. His sandy blonde hair was slicked to the side, but it totally worked for him because it made his thick black eyelashes stand out against his chocolate eyes.

“Drink?” He held out the red plastic cup.

“Did you put a roofie in it?” I asked nicely.

“If I did I wouldn’t tell you,” he said with a deadpan expression.

And there goes that sick feeling again in my stomach.

He smiled warmly and tilted his head. “Take the drink, Trace. I promise I didn’t drug it…” I grasped the cup and took a tentative sip. “This time,” he finished.

“Good to know.”

He put his free arm around me and guided me to the outside. I hadn’t realized how stuffy it was in that tiny room until now. It was some sort of party house located on campus. One that security literally guarded so that kids could get wasted without having to worry about driving or doing something stupid.

Were there really no rules here?

“Rule number six…” Phoenix folded his arms across the banister of the balcony and sighed. “Never accept drinks from a stranger.”

“Do you qualify as a stranger?” I asked, taking another sip.

“No. We’re…” He seemed to think about it for a few seconds. “Friends.”

“Wow, that must have been hard to say out loud.”

“You should be more careful.” He sighed into his hands. “Look, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. If Nixon finds out, he’ll kick my ass, but he’s just trying to protect you. You don’t know what the people are like here. I mean, you’re from a farm for crying out loud.”

“You sound just like him.” I played with the plastic cup in my hands and then set it on the balcony. “Everyone here is under the age of twenty-one, right?”

He shrugged. “Some are, some aren’t.”

“And they’re so bad that you guys have your own mafia to keep everyone in check? I don’t believe it. Sorry, but what about the security, what about the adults, the teachers?”

Phoenix looked down at the ground. “They look the other way.”

He started to look like he had two heads. I licked my lips. My throat suddenly felt really dry. I drank some more of the liquid from the cup. I felt parched. Finishing the drink, I put it back on the banister and looked at Phoenix.

“I… I’m so thirsty.”

He smirked. “Really? Do you want some of mine?”

I reached out to grab his cup and it tipped over the edge sufficiently landing on someone’s head. They flipped me off. Or at least I think they did. I saw like twenty fingers.

Something was wrong. My mouth felt like cotton. “Y-you said no drugs…” Why did my words sound so funny?

Phoenix laughed loudly. “I also told the new history teacher that I was a virgin in need of an older woman’s expertise…” He pulled me close to him and tilted my chin up. “Now you’ll see why you need us. Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m doing this for Nixon, so he can see. He needs to see. Nobody can control us, especially not some farm girl who moos in front of the entire student body.”

I was being carried or pushed. I wasn’t really sure which. But suddenly we were back inside, and he was carrying me down the stairs and out to the front of the house. I tried to fight him, but it was like I had no strength in my body. This was bad. So very bad.

“H-help.” It was a weak pitiful yell. Actually, it sounded loud to my ears but everything sounded loud.

“Phoenix… pleashhh.”

“Sorry, Trace. I really am. But this is for your own good.”

How is drugging me for my own good? This is what I wanted to yell to him, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out.

“What the hell, Phoenix!” I heard another male voice. Please let it be a teacher or someone, or Tex even!

“She’s drunk. I’m taking her back to her dorm.”

“Like hell you are! And her dorm isn’t in that direction. What are you doing?”

I saw Chase’s face. Well, I saw three of them. At least I think it was Chase.

“I’m doing her a favor, doing us a favor. Back off, you’re already on Nixon’s shit list. I’m making everything better, you’ll see.”

I lifted my hand up to grasp Chase. He looked concerned but not enough to do anything. I wanted to cry, but then again, I wanted to keep my tears in. I felt so dehydrated.

“I’ll take her,” Chase mumbled.

“You’re going to do it? Really?”

“Just let me do it.” Chase held out his arms. I was being transferred. That was a good thing, right? I mean, Chase gave me boots!

Chase mumbled something under his breath as he carried me to a waiting car. He gently placed me in the front seat and drove off. I tried not to nod off, but it was hard. And Chase kept mumbling something like, “…Can’t believe she’s pushed him this far. What is Nixon thinking?”

That was the last thing I remembered until everything went black.

****

A loud bell ringing woke me up. Apparently I had been run over by a truck the night before. I remembered the party, and then I remembered drinking something from Phoenix. He looked hot last night, and then Chase? Had Chase been there?

The bell rang again. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. Where was I? I felt comfortable, like I was in my bed, but it wasn’t my bed.

Oh no.

I jolted upright and noticed the room was masculine. Definitely not my room. I didn’t do anything though. I had all my clothes on, my body felt fine. Well, other than the pounding of my head. I quickly grabbed my jacket and bolted out of the room.

The guys’ dorm. Of course. At least nobody was there to witness my shame. And then one by one, doors to the hall opened, and guys poked their heads out.

“Ah! He bagged another one! Go Tim!” A guy shouted, and then a giant wall of muscles greeted me via the bathroom. The guy was Asian with killer golden eyes and an even greater smile. I gulped.

“Tim bagged the new girl!” Someone else shouted.

I tried to get by the guy, but he kept blocking me.

“What is your problem?”

He smirked and leaned in so close I could smell his toothpaste. “What baby? No good morning kiss from the guy you spent the night with?”

Anger and shame washed over me simultaneously. I didn’t do that. I would never do that! My eyes darted to all the guys around me. They were high-fiving and texting, and of course taking picture of me. Great.

“Get the hell away from me!” I pushed against his muscled chest. But he only pulled me closer. I struggled out of his grasp, mainly because he let me get free, and jogged down the hall only to find the door to the main lobby already open. And there stood Phoenix waiting. Chase was by his side.

As well as about one hundred other males from the dorm.

I launched myself on Phoenix, but Chase blocked my way. “Let it go, Trace.”

“You son of a bitch! Why would you do that to me?”

Phoenix smirked. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much next time.”

Chase released me. His eyes were sad, but I didn’t care. I charged out of the lobby to the sound of guys screaming and calling me a whore.

By the time I reached my dorm, tears were streaming down my face. I checked my pocket for my key card.

It was gone.

I guess I’d already used my one elevator ride anyways. I jogged up the stairs, sweating by the time I reached the third floor.

And, to my utter horror and humiliation, I was welcomed by several girls clapping. “Way to go, New Girl, bagging the quarterback of the football team. Well done!”

“What a slut!” another girl yelled. “Tim has a girlfriend! Who does that?”

I choked back sobs as I reached my door, and pushed it open. Thank God it wasn’t locked.

Monroe was still sleeping.

I didn’t know if I wanted to wake her. I didn’t know if I wanted to tell her. I paced the room five times before finally making the decision.

“Monroe.” I sobbed. “Please wake up! Please!”

She jolted awake and then cursed. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh you know, getting my brains screwed by the quarterback of the football team.” I didn’t even try to hold the tears in as I collapsed on her bed and told her the whole story or at least what I remember of it.

“Are you sure?” she asked when I was finished.

“What do you mean?”