A SMILE CREEPS on my face. This is just what I need.

Cory Bush's athleticism extends much farther than the football field, where his quick feet and amazing throws lead the team to constant victory. At least that's what I hear. I'm not much of a sports fan myself and haven't sat down to actually watch any of his games, but Cory has made himself somewhat of a campus legend, who's plays are a constant topic of conversation.

I don't see him through that rose colored lens. To me, he's the same cocky guy I met in middle school, just now with more to brag about. Nonetheless, he's familiar...safe, and he spends so time encompassing you in his world, filling you with his energy, that there isn't much time to dwell on anything else.

Me: I'm up.

Cory Bush: You tryna stop by my room? This party is ass and I'd rather be on yours instead.

Okay, he's not very poetic. Quite corny, actually, but I'm not looking to be wooed. Our arrangement works as much for me as it does for him.

Me: Ya, give me half an hour and I'll be there.

I take another sip of the tequila, enjoying the warm feeling spreading across my body. I really need to thank Aleena for this gift.

I inch my feet towards the floor, confusion overtaking me at the ground looking more swirly than usual. Did our floor always move in circular motion like this?

Despite the inconvenience of our newly installed feature, I attempt to conquer it by strategically jumping down, feet first. Unfortunately I'm not athletic enough to defeat gravity, and my body forcefully hits the ground with a thump.

"Damn slippery air," I curse, laughter escaping my mouth. I hold onto my aching side, finding enough amusement in my own pain to not cease my fit of giggles.

"Okay, it's time to get serious. You have some grade A dick waiting for you, Summer," I crack up even more at the deep voice I put on. I'm really good at this. If this nursing thing doesn't work out, I could become a professional impersonator.

But that can wait another time. Right now, I need to get myself ready.

I take a small sip of the bottle and begin rummaging through my drawer of clothes.

The idea hits me instantly. Yes! this is going to be so hot. I'm going to be so hot.

I pick out the lavender laced push-up bra with floral embroidery and the matching thong I impulsively bought a few weeks ago. It's not the most jaw dropping piece of lingerie, but for a broke college student, this is about as fancy as it gets.

Best of all, Cory has never seen it. When I show up to his room in nothing but this, he'll go crazy.

The set slips on perfectly, giving my moderately sized chest a good enhancement and less than spectacular ass an illusion of existing. I pull my hair out of the scrunchy that holds it, causing the coils of my curls to spring out wildly. A pinch of water and leave in conditioner tames it down to a silky texture past my shoulders.

I almost reach for the door, before it dawns on me that I would be flashing my entire dorm. Another laugh escapes me as I dig into my closet and pull out the longest coat I have. It's a black button down coat that reaches my ankles, allowing me full coverage, and the ability to wear next to nothing underneath.

The next few seconds are spent debating if I should bring my tequila bottle. Going back and forth with myself, I settle on grabbing it, just in case.

With the bottle tucked into my coat, my phone in my hand, and my knee high boots zipped up, I begin my twenty minute journey across campus to Mitchell hall.

Mitchell hall is a big upgrade from my dorm, with spacy singles that go for double the price of my crammed double-bedded room.

I don't know if I've been speed walking, or completely lost track of time, but I surprise myself with how quickly I reach the building.

Part of the privilege of seeing a lauded athlete is getting the perks of said athlete's privilege. Even if it's just an extra ID that gives me access to his building for impromptu booty calls as a result of him being too lazy to get up and allow me in. Now I know this could potentially be a security hazard, but thank god I'm not an axe murderer or something.

The halls are empty and quiet, most students still enjoying their last day of vacation at home, or at one of the many parties thrown tonight.

Another sip of the bottle keeps me warm and cheery. Too bad it doesn't keep my balance. My legs wobble ever so slightly and my brain stays in a perpetual state of dizziness, as if I've just spun in a circle a thousand times.

It's okay though, because I know my way. I've been to Cory's room a bunch of times. I could find my way there blindfolded.

The stairs to the second floor are short, and despite banging myself against the wall twice, I get there without a hitch.

Room 221 stands before me. The door is slightly ajar, providing an invitation for me to step inside.

"Cory?" I look around the dark empty room.

He's not back yet. I inch towards the bed, noticing slight changes to the room. The bed is now pushed towards the window on the left, instead of the closet on the right. It's perfectly made, sporting black and white sheets, instead of the typical navy color Cory loved.

In fact, everything is neat and perfectly made. I don't trip over any dirty clothes on the floor, the overwhelming smell of cologne doesn't fill my nostrils, and Cory's collection of jewelry isn't spread across the top of his drawer like usual.

A small part of my brain wants to think further into it, but the overwhelming tequila filled majority that screams for me to move on ends up winning.

He's going to walk in any second, who cares about anything else? I'll question it later.

I unbutton my coat, letting it slide down in an off the shoulder look, before deciding to completely discard it onto the floor.

"One more sip," I bring the glass to my mouth, almost gagging as I reach to place it on the drawer.

That definitely needs to be my last drop of alcohol tonight before my motor skills take the same exit as my self respect.

Just as I situate myself on the edge of the bed, chest lifted up and head pushed back, the door rattles open.

I giggle to myself at the tension, when the light flicks on and my face immediately drops.

"What the hell?" I hear myself and the mysterious guy who stands before me say simultaneously.

I squint my eyes at him, hoping Cory's change of appearance is due to my faulty sight and not because he's not actually in front of me right now.

Unless he's bleached his skin and grown a few inches taller, this is definitely not him.

"What are you doing in my room?" The guy's voice is full accusation and a sharp hint of annoyance. He holds a laundry basket in his hand, and looks beyond casual in his dark sweats, T-shirt, and slides.

I sound more juvenile than usual and my speech begins to slur no matter how hard I attempt to form a proper word. "Your room? Who are you?"

The audacity of this stranger to barge into Cory's room and get an attitude with me. God, this room is spinning too. Why can't these people install proper walls that don't move so much?

"I'm Carter Reyes." His chest rises up like his name should hold importance to me.

"Who is that suppose to be? You're not like Justin Bieber or something, you can't just announce your name and expect me to know who the hell you are, sir."

"This is my room. You know, the one you've just trespassed into. I should call security." He threatens.

God, is he tall. And his curly hair is just effortlessly messy, like uncooked ramen.

"That's where you're wrong, mister. This is room 221." I fire back.

"221 is at the end of the hall, this is room 212, the one in the middle." His face scrunches as his eyes move to the tequila bottle on the drawer. "Of course, you're drunk out of your mind." The disgust reeling off his tongue pulls me back.

"Hey, that is not- this is not. Wait, what was I going to say?" I'm at loss for words. I made it to the end of the hall and I looked at the room number before walking in, 221. Or was it? I thought it said 221, I was so certain of my ability to navigate this hall that I only glanced briefly.

I'm in the wrong room. I stand up, the mistaking settling on me with rapid embarrassment.

Carter's mouth stays in a hard line, but his eyebrows rise and his eyes linger on me with wildness. I check myself out, wondering why his stare is so intense when I remember I'm standing in nothing but underwear.

I've spent the whole time sitting on a stranger's bed, almost nude.

My breathing intensifies and my stomach feels like it's doing backflips.

I'm losing my balance again. I feel my body giving out and tumbling over, when a pair of hands hold me up.

"Jesus, you're a complete mess." His hands are hooked around my torso like he's trying to avoid as much contact as possible while still saving me from face planting onto his ground.

He places me back onto his bed, walking over to pick up the jacket I threw moments before. "This, yours?"

I nod and sit still as he places it over my shoulders and buttons it up for me. There's nothing left for me to do but to hunch in defeat. Another tally I can add to the list of crappy occurrences in my life.

"What were you looking for in 221?" He asks.

"My friend." I decide to stay vague. The less he knows, the better.

"Your friend?" His eyebrow rises. "Look, no offense, but it's best that you get to your friend. I really don't need to be dealing with this right now."

I don't know what to say so I simply nod again and bring myself back up. The second I stand straight, my vision goes black and I'm back on his bed like a dead log.

"For the love of god." I hear him mumble. "Just stay here, I'll go and get your friend for you."

"No, I'm fine. I'll just leave. I'm going to go far away from here, so you'll never have to see me again," I say, despite not having the ability to lift myself back up.

"That's not happening. You're belligerently drunk and half naked," he says.

"So what?" I fire back. I'll do whatever I want, he's not the boss of me.

"So if I let you out this door alone, knowing this fact and something happened to you, then that would be on me." He sounds more burdened then protective. "That would be eating at my conscious. I'm not going to let you take me down your path." He shuts the door, fervently leaving before I can respond.

Minutes pass as the effects of my alcohol consumption aggressively kicks in, and I continue to ponder his last words. Take him down my path? What is he talking about? I don't even know the guy and he most definitely doesn't know me, yet he thinks I will somehow drag him down to my pathetic level. Like I'm oozing off some self destructive energy that'll rub off on him if I stay in his presence for too long.

I've decided I don't like this Carter Reyes. If I never lay eyes on him again, it will be too soon.

"Your friend isn't in their room, I knocked for a while. Just tell me where you want to go, I'll get you there." He sounds exasperated as he seats himself on the swivel chair next to his desk.

"I just want to go back to my dorm, I live in Brandywine."

"What?" Confusion is written all over his face.

"Brandywine, I live in Brandywine hall."

The name still doesn't seem to register and he continues looking at me like I'm speaking Chinese.

"Brandywine, across campus." I repeat myself to no avail. Has he really never heard of it or is he being purposely obtuse?

He sighs, " I have no idea what you're saying."

My head is killing me and I'm gonna be sick.

Shit! I'm gonna be sick.

Before I know it, vomit hurls out of my mouth straight onto his bed. The more I try to hold it in and stop myself, the more my stomach contracts, pulling forth every last drop of food and liquid I've consumed in the last few hours.

I don't know what's more traumatic, the sight of it all or the violent sound of my retching. It vibrates through my throat, loud and pungent, until there's nothing left to come out except air.

When my dry heaving subsides, I look back up to a deep scowl on Carter's face. He looks completely still, like someone pressed pause on a remote.

I think I feel tears streaming down my eyes, but I can't tell for sure.

"I'm gonna just take myself home." The darkness betrays me, slowly taking over my sight. Before it wins the battle, all I see is that scowl that never seems to leave his beautiful face.