Luckily, by the time I make it back to my room, my new roommate isn't there. The room smells of incense and sex though, not that I'd know much about the later. Regardless, it had me cracking open a window to rid the room of it.

I make quick work of changing into my pajamas and doing a few stretches before I grab a book. The moment I go to flop myself in bed my roommate busts open the door. At least I sure hope it's her since she's towel-clad and fresh out of the shower.

"Oh hey! You must be Monica?"

"The one and only." I place my book down to the side. "And you must be, Marcella?" She gives me a wide smile and a nod of the head.

"I thought I'd seen you leaving the room earlier." She towels her long curly hair out, scrunching it every now and again as she does. "it looked like you were meeting up with some guy or something?"

"Yeah, that was my boyfriend. We went and got some pizza at that place up the street."

"Cool." She begins changing in front of me, completely unabashed. "Does he go here too?"

"Yeah, he's a freshman too." I debate saying the next part. Since she is clearly fine with getting naked and changing in front of me I decide to. "I stopped by earlier but you, uhm, you seemed a bit busy with your own boyfriend."

"Oh, yikes. You heard that?" She makes a cringe face. "I thought I'd be able to let out a little sexual frustration with Mr. Vibe." I nod, but am a little concerned she's sleeping with a professor already. "That's what I call my vibrator. I think it's kind of funny, you know?"

"Right. Funny." I try to let out a chuckle but sexual topics always make me uncomfortable. "So..."

"I'm just saying it's going to be one long-ass semester without my partner." She lets out a sigh as she slips into a cami and panties before plopping down her bed, facing me. "I hope you don't mind but I need to get off like... regularly."

Yikes. She certainly likes to overshare...

"Uh, yeah, it's whatever. You do whatever you gotta do but maybe let's have a rule that that's not going to be something that happens often? At least while we're in the room together or whatever? I mean I get the need to do it but I'm not really like—"

"You're cute, rambling like you're a little unexperienced sweetheart." I don't know how to respond to that because she said it like it was a joke. But it's actually the truth. "How about we have a mutual rule, then? When you and your boyfriend want a little horny time to do the deed, you just put a hair tie or two on the door and I won't come in. I'll do the same when I need to let off some steam." She grabs some purple hair ties and tosses them at me. "Here."

"Yeah, okay. That, uhm, sounds like a plan." I place the ties on the shelf next to me. Not wanting to continue the conversation I say, "well, I'm feeling pretty tired. It's been a really long day of unpacking and stuff. So I, uhm, I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Alright, yeah, I hear you." Before she turns her light off she turns to me. "It was nice to meet you, Monica."

"It was nice to meet you too, Marcella."

When the lights go out I close my eyes. I see nothing at first and then a a park bench. One with a dark-haired stranger sitting on it, tattoos adorning his arms, right before sleep pulls me under.

✩✩✩

Frat parties are something I thought my future would never hold. Yet, here I am, attending one after not even being here for a weekend. I never saw myself as this type of girl. Dating a frat guy. Going to parties. Drinking underage. None of the previous were my cup of tea. It's never been my type of scene and it appears it still isn't.

"Babe!" Carter looks full of enthusiasm when he spots me walking up to the house. "Babe, come here and meet the guuuuys!" He sounds like he's already been drinking, voice slurred just a tad. He often sounded much of the same way after a football game back at home. After a win, or even a loss, the boys would all drink some beers together. Carter was always rather boisterous once he'd down several Sam Adams.

"Oh okay, Carter. I'm starting to get it now." One of the guys is looking me over from head to toe with appreciation. The look on his face making me feel extremely uncomfortable. "I can see why you'd still be holding a flame after all this time."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"Shut up, Eric." He gives him a solid thwack to the chest with one of his forearms. "This is Monica, my girlfriend." A group of them all say their hellos after his introduction.

"Hey. It's, uhm, nice to meet you all." I give them all a timid wave and a nod before Carter pulls me into him possessively.

It's something he always did in front of his teammates back home, letting them all know we were together. At one point in my life, I thought it was a sweet gesture, protective even. Now, it just comes off as a bit overbearing but I haven't quite had the heart to tell him. It is a habitual, subconscious thing, after all.

"Alright, tour time!" 

He grabs ahold of my hand and pulls me toward the house. It's hard to make it inside due to the sea of bodies in front of the home. They're all congregating on the front porch, making the entrance hard to get to.

Once we finally make it through, Carter shows me around the main floor. There's a foosball table next to a dining room table, one currently adorned with a bunch of booze. The space would also be a lot larger in appearance if there  weren't a bunch of bodies taking up every other square inch.

Carter pours a couple of things together and then hands me the cup. "Here, drink up, beautiful. Nothing like a Long Island iced tea to get you relaxed."

"Carter, you know I'm not really into drinking." He rolls his eyes at me. "Fine. One drink but you know it takes next to nothing for me to get hammered. I'm not really into getting wasted with a bunch of strangers. Wasted or sick." Because if I get wasted then sick is inevitable.

One time after a football game I had tried my hand at beer pong and lost horribly. Then I lost my lunch all over the place. I mean, it was no surprise considering I have zero hand-eye coordination. Regardless, it was embarrassing. If it hadn't been for my brother's helping and hiding my drunken ass, my father would've probably never let me see Carter again.

"I know how you are, Mon, alright. I won't let you drink like crazy.

"I'm perfectly capable of controlling the amount I drink. I would just appreciate if you didn't pressure me to do so."

"I promise I won't. I'm just saying if you happen to drink too much..." He plants a kiss on top of my head while giving my shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'll make sure to take care of you." I let out a sigh because he always does take care of me in these situations. It's just I would never be in them if it wasn't for him in the first place, which was kind of irritating. Plus, the fact he usually dares me to drink more than I can handle.

He grabs ahold of my hand again and pulls me through a group of dancing people. Once we find a staircase, I hesitate and ask, "where are we going?"

"I want to show you my room." He wriggles his eyebrows at me but I stand firm. "I just want to show you it, Mon. Nothing more, I swear. I was just messing around. You know I'd never pressure you into anything you weren't comfortable with." It was something I used to think but here lately, I don't know, especially over this past summer.

"Fine," I let out in a resigned sigh.

I follow him up two flights of stairs until we reach the room. He opens a large, solid-wood door to a bedroom. There's a bed on either side of the room, both adorned with sports posters and memorabilia. Then there's an air mattress on the ground near the window.

"What's up with the air mattress?" My curiosity getting the better of me before telling him how nice the room is.

"That's Eric's friend's. He's staying with us for the weekend and then heading back to the west coast." I nod my head at him in understanding. My mind thinks back to the stranger on the bench, wondering if maybe he's the friend. Yeah right. The likelihood of that is pretty slim.

"It's a really nice house. The room is a decent size too. It's bigger than my dorm." I inspect the area a bit more before walking over to the window and looking out it. "Nice view of the backyard too. I'm sure you guys will have a lot of parties and cookouts out there."

"You know it." Carter comes up behind me and wraps his arm around my waist. "And you'll be at all of them, right alongside me." He places a kiss on my neck which has me taking a long pull from my drink. "It's just you and me now, Mon." He places another tender, wet kiss.

"You know how uneasy crowds like that get me." I gesture out to the scene in front of us. The backyard swarmed with people. "I feel much better up here, away from everyone else. More relaxed." I take another pull from the red solo cup, starting to feel a warmth for the alcohol spread over my cheeks.

"Then we should stay up here for the rest of the party." His hand slips to the hem of my shirt, teasing the skin underneath it. "We could just relax and hang." His fingers slowly start to crawl upward, toward my left breast.

"Carter..."

He palms me through my bra, giving me a good, hard squeeze, as his tongue runs up to lobe of my ear. The hardness in his pants pushes up against me before he turns me in his arms. His eyes search mine briefly before he mashes his lips on mine. With every push of his tongue there's more and more urgency.

"Oh god, Monica." He murmurs into me as he begins pushing me toward one side of the room. I quickly realize he's moving me toward his bed.

"Carter," I put a firm hand on his chest but his hands are still all over me, body still moving mine back. "Carter..."

"I know baby. I know." He groans into my neck. "We've been waiting to do this for so long."

What?

I shove him a bit harder this time but he doesn't even budge. When he goes to push us back onto the bed I say, "no, no. You know this is not what I want. Carter please." His hands are still all over me. "I said stop!" I get my knee in-between his legs and thrust upward with everything in me.

"Fuck!" Carter hollers out before making a choking sound as he crashes to the ground. "Jesus fucking Christ, Monica! Are you serious!?"

I set my drink down on his nightstand and go to lean down to help him. Instead of taking my hand he waves his up at me in rejection. "I'm sorry but you..."  

"You were throwing me all the signals, Mon. I finally thought you were ready."

I shake my head and say, "I think it's best if I go and you sober up. You know me, Carter. We just had this conversation last night." I blow out a frustrated breath and step around him.

When I look up at the door I see a figure leaning against the door frame, watching me intently. It's the guy from the park bench.

A/N:
Happy Tuesday!