Pride, Prejudice & the Frat House: Part 1

I’m not that girl.

I’m not the one who parties until 3 am at some Fraternity I would not be caught dead in on any given day. I’m not the girl who dances with random guys and then tears off her dress in the middle of a living room.

Except I am… and, I am apparently also the girl that remembers all the sordid details instead of the one who forgets it all. So glad…

I wipe my hand down my face, trying to erase the memories of a night I should never have taken part in, as well as the nearly permanent indentation of the bathroom floor tiles on my cheek.

“Lizzie? Are you done ralphing yet, cause I really need to use the john?” Charlotte, my roommate, says in her thick Jersey accent.

I push myself onto my wobbly legs and the room starts to spin, “Oh God…” I groan.

She lets out a long sigh, “And here I thought having a good girl roommate meant the worst thing I’d have to worry about was dealing with classical music and a nerd studying at all hours.” She says with a groan and a chuckle.

I roll my eyes with irritation—as if being a good girl automatically means I listen to classical music on repeat and study all the time. Does it really have to mean I have no life? Ok… so it may be that my life consists mostly of reading and watching obscure documentaries and movies-from-books. And alright, usually I ask for extra credit on the weekends… but damn, I’m not a nerd.

“I’m coming out, Charlotte… calm down.”

I force back that nausea and push the door open. Charlotte looks back at me with her big black-brown eyes, her mouth dropped open before it pulls back up into a shit-eating grin. Her hair is in a messy bun from the night, and her face is bare of her signature makeup. She’s still wearing her pajamas, which consists of short-shorts and a t-shirt.

She bursts out laughing when she sees me, nearly buckling over, “Oh my God… seeing you like this is almost worth peeing my pants!” She gasps, pushing by me so I fall the rest of the way out of the bathroom.

I stumble over to the sink and look at my reflection. I never wear thick makeup, but last night Lydia convinced me to let her give me a makeover. She covered my face in contouring concoctions, as well as blues and purples and reds on my lids. I had been so sure I’d resemble a clown last night, but instead, looked on the border of high price escort and supermodel. I’ll admit the combination worked for me, but now… after sleeping on it and throwing up almost everything inside my body, I resembled the Joker’s girlfriend. Mascara ran down my face, and the makeup was smeared in places making me look blotchy and uneven.

I glare at my reflection and quickly start wiping it off using Charlotte’s face wipes. I’m just so mortified. I can’t believe I let Lydia talk me into that… and for what? Because of a freaking broken heart by a guy that hadn’t deserved my heart in the first place?

Ethan was a cute nerd-type, which I thought meant he’d be sweet, but instead he was a player that masqueraded as the nice guy. I guess I should’ve known that a muscle geek wasn’t actually the good old book nerd. Glasses and a book in hand doesn’t always equal good… ok. Learned my damn lesson.

We’d been dating a month, and I refused to put out... which doesn't seem that crazy to me, but apparently makes me some virgin freak to the others in my generation. He was nice enough about it, but one day, Missy Perkins happened to be talking about how she was going to ‘Netflix and Chill’ with her newest boy-toy… Ethan Jones.

My Ethan.

I froze in my spot, listening as she went into sordid detail about the many almost-hookups they’d had in the last two weeks.

I went straight to his place, expecting to have a calm conversation, but since he wasn’t expecting me for hours… I had an unpleasant surprise. I got there in time to see Ethan tearing the shirt off some freshman coed. To say I lost it was an understatement. I ripped over to him, pulled the girl away from him—eliciting a confused, ‘What the Hell?’ from the girl, and then a quiet, ‘Oh shit…’ when she realized he was taken. She made a smart choice by quietly backing out of the room.

All he said was that I was the longest joke in history. Basically, I was a dare… that’s all I was to him. His buddies wanted to see if he could get Lizzie, the eternal virgin nerd, to give it up… since I hadn’t given in to anyone else in the last three years I’d been at this college.

Needless to say, Lydia, my sorta-friend from high school, heard about the blow-up and immediately hopped into action. She started spreading crap about Ethan, making sure all the girls knew he was an asshole, which did help the agony in my chest calm a little.

After I continued moping for a few days though, Lydia told me I had to make a splash and come to the Beta Zeta house party. Supposedly it was going to be one of the biggest of the year, celebrating some sporting match or something. I’d put up a fight, but then she made it clear I was going, and there was nothing I could do about it. So I went… and honestly, I had a good time—well, until Ethan came stumbling in with some blonde bimbo with huge breasts and hardly any clothes. Then I drank… and drank… and drank. Then came my little sultry dance.

I look at my reflection now, and though I’ve erased all traces of the night from my face, I still feel dirty… sullied. I know for a fact I wasn’t touched by anyone, at least not in a way I haven’t been before—but damn Geo Wickman for being such a good kisser.

I clearly remember stumbling out of the party back to my apartment. The memories are blurred together, and not totally cohesive, but it’s there. The only thing I don’t really remember is how I got inside. I don’t remember using my keys, or even going into the bathroom and passing out.

I sigh deeply and start looking around for my keys since they aren’t hanging in their normal spot. I start looking on my bed, in the cupboard, in the fridge. Panic starts settling in when Charlotte comes out, brushing her teeth. She talks through the bubbles, “You didn’t have your keys last night, if that’s what you’re looking for.” She says, and spits out a wad of toothpaste.

“What…?” I gasp, dropping the laundry basket I’d just had in my hand. Dirty clothes spilled out all over the floor, but in that moment I didn’t care.

She nods, rinsing her mouth and then looking back at me, “You were pounding on the door like a psycho, saying, ‘Oh God! Charlie, I’m gonna puke! My keys won’t work!” she smirked, “You were using your phone as a key.”

I groan, wiping my hand down my face, “So… I left them at the party?” I growl, more to myself than anyone else.

She laughs, “You know, this whole situation is getting better by the second.”

I glare at her, “Well… I guess I better put some clothes on and get over there.”

She looks me up and down, her nose scrunched, “Yeah… maybe try to look nothing like the girl who left here last night.” She laughed, “You know, more like the normal goody-goody you in crop pants and your little cardigans.” She smiles as if encouragingly, “They’ll think someone else stole your keys.” she smirks.

I scoff, rolling my eyes as I start pouring through my closet, looking for something simple. I glance down at the red dress still taunting me and I sigh. “Even if I went like this, it wouldn’t matter.”

She quirks a brow, “Lizzie, I already heard about your little strip tease… so far everyone is just calling you, ‘Girl in the Red Dress.” she laughs again, wiping her eye, “You’re like the slutty version of Cinderella. It’s awesome.”

I glare again, and then grumble out a tired sigh. How the hell did I let this happen?

I pick out the most boring outfit I can find. I pull on a pair of black yoga pants and a long tunic-styled t-shirt. I gather my hair into a tight pony-tail with my wispy bangs pulled to the side, and for good measure I pull out my contacts and replace them with my blue-rimmed glasses. Charlotte offers me a double thumbs up, a grin on her lips. I roll my eyes at her as I grab my purse and hurry out the door.

I wander over, trying to keep my head held high, acting as if I hadn’t walked out of here just four hours ago, barely holding onto my dignity, and the contents of my stomach.

I hesitantly knock on the large white door of the dark blue mansion-like building. I heave in a steadying breath, clenching my fists. I’m stunned when a super attractive guy with deep blue eyes and nearly black hair answers the door wearing only a pair of gym shorts, ruffling his fingers through his hair. I’ve never wanted to run my hand through a guy’s hair before, but dear God… I wanted to sink my fingers into the glossy locks and slam my lips against his.

Even stranger though—which means it’s strange considering I’d never do that to a guy—He feels familiar but I don’t know why. I’d even go as far as saying I’m comfortable with him.

“Hey, are you ok?” The guy asks in a silky, low voice that speaks straight to a carnal part of me I’ve ignored until this moment.

I gulp in a breath, “I… Uh…” I gulp, and I realize I’m sweating. “My keys were left here last night. I came to get them.” I squeak.

He smirks a little, looking me up and down slowly, tantalizingly, “You were at the party?” he asks in unbelief.

I flush crimson, “I… uh… I didn’t say that.” I nearly whisper again. He seems to enjoy my embarrassment though, leaning against the door and crossing his arms over his defined chest. Oh God… it’s not fair he looks even better this way.

“Sure… but someone else took your keys and left them here at a raging party?” He says with a quirked brow, a laugh teasing his lips.

I hate him and his little smirk and his sexy chest, and his muscular arms… and his teasing eyes. Damn it!

I shake my head as I huff out a breath, “Can I please just look around to find my keys? I have to drive to work in a few hours, and I’d really rather not get a ride from my flaky roommate.”

He considers me again with curiosity, but then something clicks in his gaze, “Everyone’s still passed out, but you’re welcome to look around. Any idea where the psycho that took your keys would’ve left them?” he says with a knowing smirk as he pushes the door open more so I can pass him. Unfortunately though, he hardly leaves the doorway, so I have no choice but to press my skin against his to get by.

I glare, “Um, could you move?” I say sternly.

He smirks, “Yeah. Sure thing…” he starts to pull back and I move in too quickly, but then he closes the distance, leaning towards me.

I gasp, freezing in my spot, “What… what are you doing?” I whisper, my breaths coming out fast and hard.

He grins at me, so close he could kiss me if he wanted, but instead he reaches past me and grabs the mail from beside the doorbell. “Just getting the mail.” He says simply, pulling his hand back, but staying just as close, looking down at my lips and back to my eyes with a smile, “What did you think I was going to do?”

I scoff, pushing him away—which meant pressing my fingers against his chest… sending an electric shock through my entire body. I quickly pull my hand back and avert my eyes, “Um… so I think the keys are probably in the living room. That’s where I remember…” I freeze, looking back at him with wide eyes. He tries not to laugh, “I mean, that’s where… they were probably left.” I hurry in there, averting my eyes, and he laughs again.

I go straight to the couch I spent most of my time on. There’s a guy passed out on it, but I manage to peek in the cushions, and don’t find them. I scrunch my brows, and then I hurry over to the ottoman in the corner that Geo and I made out on for five minutes when we were dared to.

“You know, for a girl that didn’t come to the party, and definitely wouldn’t be here on an average day, you know your way around pretty well.”

I shiver, clenching my eyes closed tightly, “Are you trying to prove a point or something?” I growl back at him. I lean over and dig around behind the ottomon, and then leap up excitedly when I pull out the keys, waving them in front of his face, “Found them.”

He watches me with that hypnotic stare again, “Actually I just wonder why you are so afraid to admit you were here?” he says seriously, his hand on his hip… which was unfortunate, because it brought my gaze down to where his pajamas meet his hips.

I tense, and guiltily look back at him, “Because this isn’t my scene. I don’t want people to think I’d spend my time drinking and acting stupid. It’s not how I want people to know me…” I reply quietly, wiping my hand down my arm nervously.

He’s quiet for a moment, “So then why did you come?” he asks in genuine curiosity.

I look back at him in surprise, “I wanted to forget…” I say too simply, shaking my head, “And instead I remember every detail of the night… which I wish I didn’t.”

He offers a softer smile, “every detail huh?” He asks knowingly, and I nod with certainty, “If it helps, the majority of people at these parties do forget everything.”

I nod once, making my glasses slip down my nose for a moment before pushing them back up the bridge of my nose. His eyes sparkle with familiarity, “You know, you have beautiful eyes…” he says gingerly.

I find my cheeks heated with a blushing smile. I tear my gaze, biting my lip. “So how about you. Are you one of the people that would remember?”

His eyes shine for a minute and he laughs, “Actually I might be the only one that would’ve remembered.” He says too sincerely and I flinch, but his expression softens, “But, I was in my room the whole night. Ironically parties aren’t my thing either.”

Something in me longed to believe him… wanting a guy who isn’t into the party life, isn’t a player, isn’t as selfish. I feel part of me reaching out to him with invisible fingers, or maybe it was him secretly reaching for me. I realize I’ve taken a step towards him. His eyes widen a little, but I notice the hint of hunger there. I swear the air turns static around us.

“So, Girl-Who-Hates-Parties, do you have another name?” he says, meeting my approach by taking another step closer to me.

I suddenly wish anyone else was awake in this house, because I’m feeling too unlike myself. “I’m Lizzie…”

He smirks, “And do you have a last name?”

I feel too nervous. I bite my lip again, and I notice he looks at my mouth, which sends a need like no other through my body. “Maybe if you tell me yours, I’ll give you mine?” I say, flirting though I’ve never been able to before.

He smiles, suitably impressed, “Darcy.”

My brows furrow in uncertainty, “Wait… is that your last name or your first?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he takes a step back, “I guess when we see each other next, then maybe you’ll find out the rest.”

My heart pounds like mad and I find myself grinning back, “You think we’ll see each other?” I said, “Like when? My next party?” I laugh.

He smirks, “Yeah, and maybe that time I’ll be the one doing the striptease in red.” He says with a wink.

My eyes go wide, my chest tight, “Wait… you said…”

He grins with a nod, “See you next time, Lizzie Bennet.” He says with a laugh as he wanders back towards the staircase, not even offering me another glance.

I find I’m gaping after him, my mouth open in awe. What the hell just happened? And who was that guy?