Grey_The Encounter Read online

  I open my mouth to protest when a loud gasp and horrendous laughter mixed with snorting cuts me off.

  “I did not expect this, but next time, please leave a sock on the door handle. It’s just common courtesy.” I recognize Jaimie’s voice, and I scramble to my feet, securing the towel around my body, suddenly feeling very small and vulnerable.

  “There won’t be a next time,” I inform her. I look between her and a clapping Julia, who oddly finds this amusing. “Can you please just take your friend and leave? I have plans, and I won’t let them be derailed by this…this—” I stop myself before I upset anyone. I have a feeling I won’t be able to avoid him. I barely know him, and already he’s becoming a thorn in my side. “Just—please leave.”

  “Can’t. Now stop whining and get ready,” Julia snaps as she walks over the spiky combat boot I tripped over, the one that put me in this ridiculous situation.

  I scoff. “Get ready for what?”

  “We’re going to one of the most epic parties of the year at Kappa Phi, a frat. They may be douches who wear Polo and hair gel, but they know how to throw a party.” Jaimie rolls her eyes, then smiles widely at me like a saint.

  “I’m not going. Like I said, I have plans.” I squirm, crossing my arms. Why can’t they just leave already?

  “And like I said, you’re coming.” Jaimie joins her girlfriend on her bed.

  “But—” I begin to protest.

  “Get ready. And be grateful we’re inviting you in the first place,” growls Julia. I almost roll my eyes. I’m already becoming adapted to her rude attitude. Great.

  “I suggest you listen to her,” Jaimie says, rubbing her girl’s thigh. “She may appear small and harmless, but let me tell you, she has claws, and she isn’t afraid to use them.”

  Julia smirks and nudges Jaimie. “You’re damn right.”

  I’m opening my mouth to protest and ask them to leave the room so I can get dressed when the boy rudely cuts me off.

  “Why are you even wasting your time with this girl? Look at her.” His judging gaze shoots up and down my body, and I feel my heart thicken under his assessment. “She’s got a brain too big for her body. She isn’t going to come.” He stands, and I cock my head up to meet his cold eyes.

  “Oh, yeah?” Don’t do it, Olivia. Just back down and let them leave. “Well, looks like you judged me wrong…mister.” Mister? I regret it as soon as it leaves my mouth. He looks at me with a smug look, and I know there’s no stopping what joins the stupidity. “Because I am too going.”

  Jaimie squeals and jumps off the bed. “Good! I’ll get out of your hair.”

  What have I gotten myself into? I have no time to back out or question her, because they’ve all slipped out the room and slam the door shut before I can even comprehend what just happened.

  I fall onto the bed and close my eyes. “I am so screwed.”

  Chapter Five

  “Are you really thinking of wearing that?” Jaimie criticizes the lavender turtleneck in my hands.

  “What’s wrong with it?” I frown and clutch the cashmere fabric. It’s one of my favorite tops. Its fabric is soft to the touch, and the color makes my eyes look like diamond oceans, according to Louise. I trust her more than anyone else in the world, so I am quick to defend the thin sweater.

  “Nothing, it’s a little too…posh,” she says uncertainly.

  “Oh, so I should wear something like her?” I nod my head at Julia, who is flicking through her phone while popping bubblegum obnoxiously loud. She’s wearing a leather corset, styled with pitch black skinny jeans and combat boots. Julia is admittedly exceptionally attractive, her Asian roots showing through her features. Her skin is fair, with thick lips and a set of high cheekbones and strong eyebrows. Her hazel eyes are complemented with a dark lining of eyeliner and brushed with eyeshadow.

  I’d never be as bold as her to dress like that. Just imagining myself dressed similarly makes me ridiculously uncomfortable. I change the image of myself in this turtleneck, and the bad nerves go away. I look more like myself. Sensible. Not like a burlesque dancer.

  “Not exactly…” Jaimie trails off. She walks over to the closet, and I look at what she’s wearing.

  Jaimie is a gorgeous girl. She has olive-colored skin that makes her naturally plump pink lips and chocolate-colored eyes pop. Her makeup accentuates her beauty, and her raven hair runs down her back in wispy curls. She’s wearing a purple dress that hugs her curves and stands high in five-inch heels. I can only imagine the pain her ankles will be in tomorrow.

  “What about…this?” She turns around with a short, striking red dress in her hands. My heart skips a beat at the risqué material. It’s pretty, but it’s incredibly short and too…out there. The dress is not my style, and it most certainly is not going to be worn by me.

  “Not my taste,” I tell her in the politest way possible. She frowns. I stand next to her and skim through my clothes. I tap my chin in contemplation before I find a perfect top. “This is more like it.”

  “This?” Jaimie makes a face: a not-too-pleased face.

  “What?” I look down at the silk blouse with ruffles. “Matched with some khakis and ballet flats, it’ll be a perfect outfit. Simple yet sophisticated.”

  Julia scoffs. “You do know we’re not going to a job interview at Ms. Kiss-ass Incorporated, right?”

  “Julia,” Jaimie hisses, picking up and tossing a pillow at her girlfriend. Julia merely shrugs and goes back to scrolling through her phone like this is boring her to death.

  “It’s not that bad,” I mutter under my breath, holding the blouse to my chest. I walk over to my bed and consciously take off my clothes, but they’re too busy bickering to notice.

  I can’t help but think about what they said, about my blouse. But then I decide I don’t care. I won’t change how I look for people who wear leather and black like they’re a part of a cult.

  After I am dressed and apply a little bit of lip balm, we head out.

  Waiting in the front is the rude boy. He’s smoking a cigarette, appearing rigid and bothered. Standing beside him is someone I don’t know and am very aware of, the closer we get to the black Mustang they’re leaning against.

  “Took you long enough.” The rude boy throws the exhausted cigarette to the ground and stomps it out using his tough biker boots. “Get inside before I change my mind and let your asses walk.”

  “There is no need to be rude, Grey.” Jaimie pouts, and Grey flips her the middle finger before storming around the car and sliding in the front seat. Why does he have to be so…rude?

  A low, deep masculine chortle snags me out of my thoughts, and I look at the boy leaning against the car.

  “That’s Grey for you. Asshole of the year.” His tone is light, but his words definitely aren’t. He looks like a good boy; how does he know these people?

  “But then again, when isn’t he?” Julia mumbles, eyes glued to her phone as she walks to the car. She bumps into the boy before she slides into the front seat without apologizing. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he laughs.

  “Olivia, this is Mateo, Grey’s cousin. Mateo, this is Julia’s roommate, Olivia. I’m sure you two nerds will get acquainted in the backseat, among other things.” I, unfortunately, understand her hidden reference and gulp, shifting my heated gaze toward the boy who in fact does look similar to Grey.

  Dark eyes, similar black hair, with a tattoo peeking under his navy blue collar. Along with the dress shirt, he wears dark dress pants and a pair of Converse. Does he dress like this all the time? Apart from the ink on his neck, I can see him and I engaging in a budding friendship. If not, then what men’s catalog did he step out of?

  As if sensing my confusion toward his attire, he smiles quite charmingly. “I just got back from an interview with the chancellor.”

  The car honks, followed by Grey shouting, “I wasn’t kidding about the walking part!”

  Rolling our eyes, we all slide into the backseat except Jaimie. S
he sits on Julia’s lap, much to my fear of getting pulled over. After receiving Jaimie’s dismissive wave of a hand and Julia’s eye rolling and flip of her finger, I back off and let them be.

  “So, may I ask what the interview was about?” I ask Mateo. What a lovely name, very unique.

  “This place was first on my list of colleges, but I got wait-listed. We were working out when I could transfer here, which turns out to be a year from now. It’s a long time, but I’m willing to wait. You’re lucky you got in; this place is a really good school. I’m majoring in architectural engineering,” he explains, gesturing with his massive hands. Really, I bet they’re about the size of my face. “What about you?” he asks, tugging me out of my brief and peculiar fascination of his hands.

  “Oh, psychology.”

  “How typical,” Grey’s dusky voice pierces the air.

  I cut a glare at the rude boy. “What’s that supposed to mean?” My voice is sweeter than the glare I’m pinning on his back.

  I look into the rearview mirror to find him staring at me with a blank expression, though he has an eyebrow slightly arched, as if daring me to argue, but I won’t let him get what he wants.

  “Know what? I don’t really care. Think what you want. We’re all entitled to our own opinions.”

  “So it’s all right for me to think you’re a stuck-up prude who only agreed to come tonight because I challenged your obvious prudeness?”

  “Grey!” Mateo kicks the driver’s seat, and I swiftly object. One thing has haunted me my entire life—a car accident. I feel my throat closing up, my heart picking up speed.

  “It’s okay,” I mutter, passing Mateo a soft smile as I subtly shift to the window seat to lay my head against the glass.

  “There’s no need to be an asshole all the time, Grey,” Mateo snaps at his cousin.

  “Oh, should I make a schedule?” Grey says sarcastically.

  I find myself pulling out my phone and texting Louise.

  Miss you already.

  My thumb hovers over the send button before I press my finger down.

  I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until I listened to two boys I barely know bicker back and forth as I glance at two girls I barely know flirt and steal kisses. I think it’s because I’m used to a constant, a schedule. But now, two days in university, and I’m in the backseat of a car owned by a rude boy with dark but captivating eyes, headed to a frat party. I’m not like this. This isn’t who I am. I need to remind myself who that is exactly, and Louise will help with that.

  Louise: Miss U 2 hun.

  I laugh. She’s been getting into messaging in abbreviations like “sneaky teenagers nowadays.” She once stayed up all night studying what every abbreviation meant. Although meant to decode how her daughter talks in messages, she likes to practice on me even though I hate it.

  Olivia: What are you up to?

  Louise: Baking 4 LOTTIE. What abt U?

  I type back a response but jerk forward at the time I was going to press send. I look around, and my eyes land on a mansion-like house outside the window and the disaster zone that is red plastic cups on the front lawn and large waves of people entering the house. My heart skips a beat, and I feel myself shrivel up. Already I can sense my nerves clamping up.

  Just going to hang out with my roommate and her friends, was my reply, but as I run my eyes over the mass of people lingering on the lawn and these crazy people in the car, I hesitate. I know if I tell her this and she asks where I’m going exactly and I answer “Epic Frat Party,” she’ll text me about great caution in abbreviations all over the screen, like she smashed her face on it. I don’t want her to worry, because I’ll be fine and I’ll take great caution. I just do that naturally without any reminder.

  Olivia: Nothing much. But I’ll talk to you later.

  “Who’s ready to party?” yells Jaimie as we all exit the car.

  A group of girls stumble up the sidewalk nearby, hell-bound for the booming house party, but not before one of them hunches over and vomits all over the concrete. I watch with sore eyes while regret fills me up.

  Tonight should be interesting.

  Chapter Six

  As I stare up at the large house, I feel every nerve in my body grow cold. There are drunk girls wobbling in their heels on the lawn, cheering on their even drunker friends as they chug from cans. Julia is smiling from ear to ear—which, considering I’ve never seen her smile before, can’t be good.

  Jaimie slides up beside me, linking her elbow with mine. “Are we going to stand here all night, or are we going to par-taay?” The drunken girls holler back, almost falling over like standing dominos. “You’ll have fun, I promise,” she whispers in my ear, tugging me from the car I’ve gravitated toward like it’ll protect me. But I fear nothing can.

  “Yeah, I’m sure they have Sudoku or nuns she could pray with,” Julia scoffs beside her girlfriend, that smile growing wicked and large. “But I know for sure they have what I want. Now let’s go before I lose my mind.” She grabs Jaimie’s hand and tugs her forward, dragging me along with them.

  Mateo and Grey have already left, leaving us girls to enter the grand house. As soon as my feet cross the threshold, I feel my stomach do a complete one-eighty front flip. If I thought there was an unusual number of girls wobbling around in their heels like they were drunk clowns on stilts outside, I was wrong. There are even more inside.

  And suddenly, in this very moment, every teen movie I’ve ever watched rings true, in the aspects of girls in demeaning short skirts grinding against frat guys wearing Polos, practically having intercourse in the open.

  “Don’t get lost, Bambi,” Jaimie screams over the deafening music. I let her take my hand and pull me through the large crowd, bumping into numerous people and exchanging quick apologies.

  I’m almost relieved when we end up in front of the only unoccupied couch, and our group has inhabited it, so I won’t be standing all night. My plan is to settle my bottom on a cushion like a plant and wait until they’re all partied out and ready to leave. Otherwise, I’m finding a book and planting my nose in it. Though I doubt any of these guys read anything that’s not on the back of cereal boxes.

  Sitting on the right hand of the couch is a guy with dirty blond hair wearing a red beanie, smoking a white stick I’m not one hundred percent sure is a cigarette; Grey and a girl tucked under his outstretched arm are on the other side. The girl is petite but looks lethal. She has curly, fiery red hair, thick black eyeliner surrounding a pair of electric blue eyes, and a crude snarl masking her dark red lips. With one hand toying with Grey’s hand that’s wrapped around her, she uses the other to point a finger at me.

  “Who’s this?” she asks, her voice dripping venom.

  “This is Olivia, Julia’s dorm mate. And that under Grey’s arm is Dirty, sorry—” Jaimie coughs and breaks out into a grin. “Diana. I see it didn’t take you long to shag up under him. Literally.” With a wide smile that holds something unknown to me behind it, she takes a seat next to the guy wearing a beanie.

  “And I see it didn’t take your girlfriend long to hit up the drug dealer.” This guy is a drug dealer? One glance at his red-ringed eyes and baggy shirt and I have my confirmation. He’s snickering lightly as he swipes his tongue across a rolled-up white paper.

  “Leave me out of this. This is my night to zen,” Julia says, plopping down next to the apparent dealer. I take the last seat on the couch, and I watch as she rips the stick out of his hand and slips it between her lips. That is so unsanitary.

  I rip my eyes away, wondering how I got here. Oh, yeah, I decided to show up Grey on his idea of me. And now I’m sitting on a ratty couch with people I barely know or like in a fraternity house, two days before classes start. How amazing college is turning out to be…

  Chapter Seven

  “Where’s the kitchen? I want some water,” I say to Jaimie, but I’m not really thirsty. I just need some fresh air. I will tire myself out with my thinking because this is to
o much. I shouldn’t have even cared about Grey’s opinion of me in the first place. But like a foolish gazelle, I fell for his trap.

  “Through there and across the hall,” she tells me, pointing to the crowded doorway. “Just look for a couple making out above ground. These assholes always, and I mean always, make out on the counter.”

  Standing, I ask, “Why?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe the counter under their bare asses makes them even hornier?”

  “If so, we’re so next.” Julia wraps an arm around her girlfriend, and I leave before I’m forced to endure watching them make out. They’re a sweet couple (minus Julia), but it’s uncomfortable having to see that every five minutes.

  I’m almost inside the kitchen, when I accidentally bump into a person. I quickly apologize and smile as I recognize the boy in front of me.

  “Mason,” I say, relieved I know someone friendly.

  “You remember me,” he says, smiling. He runs a hand through his chestnut hair as a smile appears on his face. His smile is contagious, and pretty soon I’m beaming up at him. “What are you doing here? I thought parties weren’t your thing.”

  I let a rude boy I don’t know cloud my judgment.

  “I changed my mind,” I say instead. My other answer makes me sound weak, and I’m not weak. If anything, I’m headstrong, like Louise constantly reminds me.

  “Understandable,” he says. “Who wants to spend their first night at college cooped up in their room?”

  “Not me.” Yes, me, until Grey popped up.

  “Why are we just standing here? Let me get you something to drink,” he offers.

  “Sure,” I say, following him into the kitchen. And like Jaimie predicted, there’s a couple on the counter kissing like the world’s about to end. “Just anything but—” He places a tall bottle filled with clear liquid on the counter with a sly smirk on his face. I sit on one of the kitchen stools. He’s joking. I shake my head and finish what I was saying, “Alcohol. Anything but…that.” I point at the bottle.