Tessa rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair with a sigh.
“Yeah, I don’t feel like going to a frat party,” she said with a huff.I feel like having you between my legs.
“Are you sure baby? I’ll make sure you have fun even though it’ll be a sausage fest.”
She heard one of his teammates pestering him in the background to hang up his phone and get in the car.
“It’s fine Trist. I need to study anyway.”
“Are you sure?” he asked again.
“Yes, just don’t do anything stupid to get you kicked off the team, please.”
“I promise I’m just going to play like fifty rounds of beer pong. I’ll take you to breakfast first thing in the morning, how does that sound?”
She smiled and felt her heart flutter again, the anxiety drifting away.
“That sounds great.”
“Alright. I’ll text you when I get home baby. Have a good night.”
“Goodnight.”
Tessa hung up the phone and set it on her desk, letting herself sit in the silence of her room with the faint noise of the TV in the background. She was trying her best to play the cool and supportive girlfriend, but she had to admit to herself that she was a bit disappointed. She was big on people keeping their word or following through on promises, and she felt like Tristan had ditched her last minute to get drunk with his friends.
But then the other side of her understood how big this win was for them. And for Tristan to be the one who essentially won the game for the team, he was probably currently on a high of joy and excitement that she couldn’t possibly understand. Sheknew what it felt like to work tirelessly and giving your all to something and to actually succeed at it, but she didn’t know what that felt like at such a large scale like Tristan had just experienced.
She wrung her hands together and reminded herself that he was a 20-year-old college guy whose football team wanted to celebrate a win together. Not a big deal. He had even asked her to come with him and had promised to take her to breakfast in the morning. So even though she was cynical and skeptical and wanted to sabotage the seemingly perfect relationship she was in, the other part of her knew that he was as genuine as they come, that he cared deeply for her, and was just a dude who wanted to have some fun.
Tessa lay in her bed that night restless as ever. For some reason, she couldn’t sleep. She glanced back to the alarm clock on her nightstand and saw that it was 1:15 in the morning. Still no text or call from Tristan that he was home, and for some reason her brain was going a mile a minute.
She sighed and sat up in her bed, throwing the blankets off her long legs in annoyance. She grabbed her phone and called Tristan, waiting impatiently as the line rang about 5 times before going to his voicemail.
“Hey, just wondering if you’re still at the party,” she said into the phone, “I can’t sleep for shit so was thinking about meeting you there. Hopefully that’s okay. Call me back or just send me a text message. Bye.”
She put her phone down and sat back against the headboard, lightly thumping the back of her head against it in a soothing rhythm while she waited for his call back.
10 minutes passed, still no call or text.
She grunted, frustrated beyond belief now, her stubborn and defiant side that reared its ugly head every once in a while, starting to come out. Without putting much thought into her next moves or intentions, she threw on a pair of casual jeans and a light pink t shirt and slipped into her favorite well-worn pair of sneakers. She threw her hair into an unruly bun. It was thick and curly and barely fit into the hair tie. She glanced at herself in the mirror, seeing the black mascara from earlier today still adorning her lashes and figured that was good enough. She called an Uber and ran out the front door, almost forgetting until the last minute that it was late November and extremely cold outside. She grabbed her favorite grey hoodie that said Vanderbilt in bold letters on the front, and walked outside to the waiting cab, cell phone clutched in her hand, still waiting for her boyfriend to call her back.
Tessa stood on the plush grass of the front lawn gawking at the huge house in front of her. She was in a bit of shock to discover that frat houses did actually look like Grecian mansions like in the movies. Or at least this one did.
The smell of smoke and alcohol wafted through the air. There were red solo cups littering the ground and one guy off to the side puking in a bush. She rolled her eyes at the cliché of the situation and couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed that Tristan was here at all.He’s a 20-year-old guy in college Tessa, relax.
She took a deep breath and walked up the large steps leading to the front door. There was a couple making out on a swing bench that hung from the porch ceiling and another on the other side of the porch seemingly sharing a joint. She rolled her eyes again and pushed through the large front door.
When she walked in, she was bombarded by the warm and sticky air, bodies pressed together, alcohol spilled all over the floor. She pulled at the sleeves of her hoodie nervously, pushing herself as best as she could through the crowd, but it was difficult. Almost everyone was inebriated beyond belief and barely registering that she was pushing against them to get through. As she grew more frustrated, her pushes began to get more aggressive, and she finally made her way through the dense group of people that were standing by the front door and found herself in the main living area of the house, which wasn’t nearly as populated.
Her eyes scanned the scene in front of her: a few girls sitting on the couch giggling and sharing a drink, a few couples making out down the dark hallway, another guy pushing through the crowd with two large bottles of vodka, and finally, a game of beer pong off towards the far-right corner of the room near the kitchen.
Her body relaxed when she finally found him, and she let out a sigh of relief. He was doing exactly what he told her he’d be doing – playing beer pong with his friends. She felt a genuine smile tug at her lips, and she began moving towards the group of people gathered around the table, but stopped abruptly when she saw who was standing right next to Tristan. It was Veronica.
Their backs were towards Tessa so she couldn’t see their faces, but by the look of it they were playing on the same team. Tessa could tell by Tristan’s body language and the way he was speaking to the guy next to him that he was drunk. Not black out drunk but not simply tipsy, either. She felt her body flush red with rage as she watched Veronica daintily throw the ping pong ball and land it perfectly into one of the remaining cups on the opposite side of the table.
“Hell yeah!” Tristan slurred. “Nice.”
Veronica giggled annoyingly and wrapped one of her nauseating French manicured hands around Tristan’s bicep. Tristan was either too drunk to notice or didn’t care that she was touching him like that, and frankly, neither option made Tessa feel good.
