TW: Sexual harassment mention

I'm instantly startled by the varying bright lights that greet me when we walk through that doorway. Madison instantly starts squealing when she finds a few of her friends in the corner of the room, and she runs toward them, leaving me behind. The off-campus house is decent in terms of size, but it's easily crowded with the abundance of careless young adults. They seem to take up every square foot of the place, and I find it difficult to even get past the small mat in front of the door.

I don't recognize anyone, but that's expected. It's only been a week since I've been here. Or maybe that's just a "me" thing, because two strangers that were in my math class that have never spoken in class are already making out in the corner of the room.

It's crazy what some alcohol can do to a person. It's even crazier what a lot of alcohol can do to a bunch of people in desperate need to let go.

The midnight appearance of the outdoors provides comfort for people, as it creates an illusion of safety where nothing can go wrong. No one thinks much about it, and even if they wanted to, the influence of a drink would likely prevent them from doing so.

This is not my crowd.

At all.

It never has been.

Even in high school, I was the girl who preferred to stay out of drama and events like these. I imagine that Delilah would have been different, but I can't say anything with complete certainty.

I make my way through the room, and I gather the courage to grab a small cup of liquid from the kitchen countertops. It looks like water, but when I taste it, I get a strong sense of bitterness from the drink which, is definitely not water. I'm not used to the feeling, and I don't even know what to think about it.

I almost bump into this random guy, shirtless and with a face of pure idiocy. He's stupidly drunk, and when he looks at me, he takes the moment to pause.

With such a confusing sense of confidence, he asks, "want to go up to one of the rooms?"

I know what he's requesting, and it takes everything in me to not throw the rest of my drink at him.

"No," I firmly tell him.

"Let's go! Now," he yells, and a few people around us turn to look at what's happening.

"No," I tell him again.

His icy blue eyes are confused, and he says, "don't be such a prude."

When he starts laughing and looking around the room, I take the moment to get away from him as far as possible. I end up in a tiny bathroom, and the horrible stench almost causes me to throw up. I check my phone, and I stay there for 5 minutes before coming out again.

When I look around, I find the same guy that was just bothering me is gone. I walk past the crowd, and I feel better. The amount of confidence that basic white guys have is crazy.

Drunk or not, guys are assholes. It's rare to find a kind one, but even when you do, they can turn into assholes too. That guy probably won't remember what he said, but I will. That's just how it goes. They move on, and I live with the strange burden.

Wouldn't it be nice to forget about all of the men who have driven me insane with their claims about some kind of wonderland? Even in high school, they were around.

One memory of a man who I once had kind opinions of from back then comes back to me at that single moment. Oh, if only you would accept my offer, he chanted.

The persistent words from green-eyed souls practically haunted me, but shouldn't I have expected it? The long conversations and midnight tales were all part of their plans to plunge me into the darkness and take me by surprise. I should have suspected that the people who I considered innocent friends were secretly monsters lingering under the trees. They never wanted a friendship, they just wanted sex. Some guys can't handle just being friends, it's like they're incapable of it. And then they get mad when you don't want anything more than a friendship.

I don't know if it's worse if the requests come from a friend or from a complete stranger. Whether it's from the random guy from high school or the stranger that's currently disappeared, it still hurts. And is extremely uncomfortable.

I wonder what Delilah would have done. In either situation. She was always brave and direct, and she would have shut that down right away. These men would have been ignored and exposed for the lying bastards that they are.

I never could do it myself though. And I couldn't do it with that stranger. Fear is fear, and it can take over.

Besides, it might have been pointless. Men will be boys, and boys will never be blamed. Especially when it takes place at a party. Everyone treats it like it's a part of a routine. It's such bullshit.

When I realize that something similar is happening right next to me with a brown-haired boy and a beautiful girl with brown eyes that looks completely uninterested, I take the chance to link my arm with hers, and yell, "hey girl! I haven't seen you in a while! Let's go get a drink!"

She practically runs away with me, and when we make it to the kitchen, she whispers, "thanks."

I simply nod, and I walk away.

"Don't go!" She yells.

I'm quite surprised, but I turn around instantly and go back to her. She smiles, and says, "hey, you really saved me over there. I'm Nina, you?"

"I'm Priscilla."

"Pretty name," she tells me.

"Thanks," I respond this time.

She's stunning, with short curly black hair and brown eyes that are spilling comfort. Her dark brown skin is complimented by the yellow crop top she's wearing and a shining smile that translates into gratitude for what I did a few moments ago. She's wearing denim shorts that are familiar only because of the small designer name on them, which is present on the shorts I have on, and has opted for beige sandals for relief rather than any heels like two or three people around us have on.

A bracelet rests around her wrist, in a variety of glittering gold and silver shades with charms that spell out her name. I can tell that it's something sentimental, based on the way that she starts picking at the letters, which is a nervous habit that I also commonly participate in.

"Do you want to ditch this place?" She asks. "I know this cute cafe that's like ten minutes away by walking. It's still open right now."

She's probably the only person, other than me, that's still mostly sober, which convinces me that she's a good person to be around right now. I feel like my own personal angel from heaven has come down to save me from this terrible event, and I'm not going to reject the help.

"Yes!"

And that's how we end up leaving a silly party and at a small shop where only an employee accompanies us.

I'm not sure about this chapter, but I hope you all liked it!