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"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," I say, clinging onto Lena's hand. With my other hand, I scratch my thigh.

"It's okay, girl," she says. "You can do this."

"I don't know..."

"Yes, you can," she insists.

"Relax," Owen says. "There's nothing to worry about."

"I just..."

"Sarah, listen to me," Lena looks into my eyes. "You've got this, okay? You're with me and Owen, nothing bad is going to happen."

"But what if it does?"

"Then... well... you look hot. And hot girls can handle anything."

I snort. "is that your new motto?"

"Right now, it is."

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I open them again, Lena is grinning at me. It's obviously a fake smile, but she's trying to reassure me.

"Are you ready?" Owen asks.

"Yes," I say, but it's a big fat lie. I'd rather throw out my lipsticks than go into this party. Okay, that's a lie too. I couldn't live without my lipsticks.

Owen leads us over the lawn of the fraternity house. There's a bunch of people out here, too, but I'm focused on the actual inside of the house. That's where all the noise is coming from.

As soon as we walk through the door, my senses are flooded. There are multiple coloured lights flashing around, making me dizzy. The music is so loud, I know my ears will be ringing tomorrow. People are walking around all over the place, completely filling up the house. They're everywhere. I can barely take a step without bumping into someone.

"You want a drink?" Owen calls over the music, pausing beside a group of guys with a keg.

"Yes please," Lena nods.

"I'll pass."

"Nope, she's having one, too."

Great. Owen fills up three cups, but he's smart enough to only fill mine an inch or so. I sniff it. My nose wrinkles right away, hating the smell. I bring it to my lips, taking a small sip. I let it sit in my mouth for a second, and then spit it back out.

Owen chuckles. "You don't like it?"

"I hate it!"

He takes the cup from my hand, placing it on top of the fireplace. He turns back to the group of guys, asking them something. One of them walks away, only to return a second later with a bottle in his hand. He gives it to Owen. He pops the top off, and hands it to me.

"Vodka strawberry," he says. "You'll like it."

I take a sip. This time, I swallow it. It's actually not that bad. It tastes like a weird strawberry flavoured soda.

"This is good," I say. "So much better than beer."

"I actually like it," Lena responds, talking about her drink. "It's kind of... different."

"I hope you don't like it too much," Owen laughs. "I don't wanna carry your drunk ass home."

"Don't worry. I've never been drunk before, and I won't make tonight the first time."

"Owen! My man!" A loud voice yells.

I look over my shoulders, spotting a group of guys marching our way. They're al shirtless, with neon text drawn over their skin. To my surprise, Christian is one of them. I stay close to Lena and Owen, almost trying to hide behind them.

The guy yelled out slaps Owen on the shoulder, giving him a man-hug. He's a big guy, with a bit of a beer belly. He reeks of sweat and alcohol.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Owen greets him.

"yeah, not bad," he nods, but then turns his attention to Lena. "Bro, is this your sister?"

Owen nods. "She moved in yesterday."

"No way! This your first frat party?" he asks her

"Yep, it is," Lena purses her lips.

"You better be having fun! Freshman girls are always the talk of the town!"

Well, that's gross. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Christian must've noticed, because he approaches the two of us. I take a moment to eye his body. His stomach is flat, but his pecks are emphasised. I try to make out the words on his skin, but I can only make out 'Sigma Phi'. The rest is smudged.

"Hey, girls," he smiles. "Good to see you again."

"You too," Lena responds. "Are you in this frat?"

"Yep. Want me to show you around? We have a killer arcade downstairs."

Hell no.

"Uh, no thanks," Lena says. "We're kind of, staying with Owen."

"Ah," he nods his head in understanding. "Then how about we play a game of beer pong?"

Lena looks at me, asking for my opinion.

"That sounds good," I nod. "But can we fill up the cups with strawberry vodka instead? Beer is gross."

He smiles. "Of course we can."

"What's this?" Owen asks, joining our conversation.

"We're gonna play beer pong. You in?"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Sweet."

We begin walking through the crowd again, heading into a smaller room of the house. It's not as busy here, but there are still people walking around. The beer pong table is already set up.

Christian takes our drinks, filling up half the cups on our side with strawberry vodka, and the other half with beer. They fill their own cups too, with whatever they're drinking.

"I've never done this before," I admit.

"You're not much of a partier, are you?" Christian laughs.

"Not at all."

"Well, you look good."

"Oh," I say, surprised by his words. "Thank you."

I didn't spend long on my outfit tonight. I didn't have any time. After lunch, Lena and I went back to Ikea to pick up a closet. We also went to Staples to pick up some stationary, and took a quick walk through Ulta. By the time we got home, it was already dark outside. We built the wardrobe with Owens help, and got ready for the party in record time.

I was already wearing makeup from this morning, but I gave myself a quick touch up, and added some extra concealer and contour to emphasise my features. Instead of my usual red lipstick, I chose a shade darker.

Lena helped me chose my outfit. I'm pretty interested in fashion, but she takes it to another level. She watches all the runway shows, and constantly stays up to date with the latest trends. Instead of wearing a dress, I'm in a denim skirt, with a white, long sleeve crop top. We decided to match, so she's in a white bodycon dress, with a denim jacket over the top.

"Alright, Leens," I say, giving her the ping pong ball. "You first."

"Oh shit," she hesitates. "Don't hate me if I miss."

"Don't worry about that, girl. You've got this."

Lena gets in position, holding her arm up. She focuses on the triangle of cups on the other end of the table, and throws. The ball bounces on the edge of a cup, and falls in.

"Oh, hell yes!" She cheers.

"Yes, girl! Look at you go!" I laugh.

"Are you secretly a professional beer pong player?" Christian jokes.

"How'd you know?" she teases.

"That's just beginners luck!" Owen calls. He takes the cup the ball landed it, and drinks the liquid.

"Alright, my turn," Christian says. He takes a quick second to aim, but before I can even blink, he's thrown the ball. Of course, it lands in the cup.

"No way!" Lena exclaims. "How can you do that?"

"It's a secret talent."

"Drink up!" Owen smirks.

I pick up the cup, eyeing its contents. It's red. I drink it up, feeling the bubbles tingle my throat.

"Alright, Sarah, you're up," Christian says. I take the ball out of the cup, and begin aiming at cups.

"Yo, Tyler!" Owen yells, making me jump. I drop the ball onto the table. I search the room.

Tyler is heading our way. This time, he's actually dressed. He's wearing a pair of tight black jeans, with a matching longline t-shirt. Unlike last night, he actually looks clean. His stubble is gone, and there's no dirt or blood on him. He's still scowling, though. That must be a signature look for him.

"What's up, man?" Tyler greets, giving both Christian and Owen man-hugs. He's the tallest out of all of them. He must be at least 6'2, probably even taller.

"This is my sister, Lena," Owen introduces them. "Lena, Tyler."

"What's up?" he nods his head at her.

"Hi, it's good to meet you," Lena smiles, waving at him.

He glances at me, keeping his expression as hard as stone. If it wasn't so dark in here, I might be able to read him better. Right now, I can only feel his hostility. For a moment, I think he's going to ignore me, but he surprises me.

"Sarah," he says.

"Hi," I give him a sweet smile. He remembered my name. Maybe I've judged him too quickly.

"We're about to see her throw her first beer pong ball ever," Christian says.

Tyler snickers. "How old is she? 12?"

Nevermind what I said before. He's an asshole who can choke on his own spit.

"Ignore him," Owen says, slapping his friend. "He's a dick."

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