Gabby is still here by the kegs, chatting animatedly with the same frat boy that poured our beers earlier. At least I think it's the same guy. They could trade them out, really, and I wouldn't know the difference.
She yells over the music to me when I make my way up. "Aren't they amazing?! You should have come to one of their shows with me last year. I didn't know they were playing here tonight."
I lift my eyebrow and feign disinterest while I shrug one shoulder. "Yeah, they're okay. Generic emo-rock. You know."
She drops her jaw. "Okay? What are you talking about!? These guys are right up your alley. And I definitely wouldn't call them emo-rock. Close, but more alternative-metal sounding, to me."
She's right, of course. I don't know why I feel so protective over my draw to this band. It's almost like when you see a girl wearing the same outfit and she looks better than you? Yes, you love the outfit, and yes, you know she looks amazing in it. But you can't tell someone that. Black Canvas is wearing my favorite outfit better than I do.
"Yeah, maybe. Hey, I'm going to go sit over at the firepit over there. Wanna come?"
She nods, before bidding adieu to Brad, or Chad, or Thad, or whatever his name is. We make our way through the worn lawn toward a large firepit surrounded by a few wooden benches and lawn chairs with a large picnic table beside it.
The picnic table is currently housing a rousing game of flip-cup. Or at least I assume it's rousing. They certainly sound roused.
The firepit would usually be a popular spot, but with the band playing everyone seems to be accumulating around the deck to jam to their favorite boys. I find myself rolling my eyes at the notion as irritation pours through me.
The game of flip-cup game has reached a crescendo, I'm assuming. The cheers increased to a sound deafening enough that it almost drowns out every part of the band with the exception of the thumping bass drum. Almost.
I've never really understood the point of drinking games. I don't think it should be fun to encourage binge drinking. There's nothing fun about breeding an entire generation of alcoholics and addicts, but I know at least part of that is my past talking.
"You wanna play a round?" Gabby asks, noticing the way I'm eyeing the group at the picnic table. She must be confusing my look of disgust with envy. It is not.
"No, I'm good. So what about the frat dude? You gonna hit that?" I say it widening my eyes a fraction and biting my lip.
Gabby laughs in astonishment before hitting my knee with the back of her hand. "I'm not trying to fuck every guy I talk to."
"Oh, so you're going to try something new this year?" I say sarcastically, but with no hint of sarcasm.
She shakes her head, giggling. She's used to my humor and knows I don't mean anything by it. I've been told my sense of humor is "dry.'' Some mistake it as meanness. And then there are those that mistake my meanness as humor, so it's multipurpose. My ability to hold my face during sarcastic quips can be confusing for first-timers, so I always keep a friend around that gets it and doesn't get their feelings hurt when I start roasting.
"What about you? Any thoughts of rekindling that blustering Gone With the Wind style romance you blossomed last year with Kendrik?"
I narrow my eyes at her. She knows I hate Kendrik. He was a trashy asshole that I slept with a few times last year. Hardly a romance. I broke it off with him before summer break, which was perfect. I tried to Stockholm Syndrome myself into liking Kendrik but it just never went that way for him despite his hot AF Donald Glover look he had going for him.
"Yeah, I don't think I'll be dating any more music majors. They're fucking horrible."
"We're music majors, Vale."
"Exactly my point."
It takes me a few minutes to notice that the music has come to a halt and the crowd that was circling the makeshift stage has dispersed, when two guys flop down in the chairs next to the bench I'm lounging across.
I look over, surprised by the brief disturbance of sound and the shift in the air beside me, catching a pair of grey eyes looking back at me.
I let out a scoff of air without even meaning to. Why is this guy so unnerving for me?
"Oh my god, you guys had a great set tonight!" Gabby gushes across me to the lead singer, Kaden, and the man I recognize to be the bassist. He's sporting an 80's hair band mess of light brown curls and I warm to him instantly.
Kaden quirks up the side of his mouth while pulling a backpack between his legs and setting it down. "Hey, thanks. Glad you ladies enjoyed it."
I pull my lips into a tight smile, resenting the fact that he roped me into Gabby's enthusiasm, but I'm careful not to make any additional motions that would indicate I want any other type of conversation.
Two boys come up. Freshman. Looking like they're going to pledge this year. They haven't quite mastered the douche style yet, but they'll get there. I'm sure of it.
Kaden gives their hand a slap before slamming his knuckles against the other boys while they speak in hushed voices. I try not to pay attention to them, but I can't stop myself from noticing when Kaden pulls a small baggie out of his backpack and hands it to the first boy, who in return asks, "One-fifty?"
Kaden nods in response, and the boy digs into his wallet, pushing a stack of bills into Kaden's outstretched palm.
Holy shit. That was a drug deal. A relatively small drug deal for a relatively large amount of cash. I try to focus back on whatever meaningless gossip Gabby is telling me, but I keep catching the sight of new boys, and new baggies, and new piles of cash out of the corner of my eyes. How much money has he made while I'm just sitting here?
Eventually, he catches me looking, but makes no motion to obscure my view of his activities, Instead lifting a brow and giving me a flirtatious smile. "You want some molly?"
I return his smile. "Oh me? No thanks. I had drugs for dinner."
His low chuckle ignites a spark in my chest. God, that's hot.
"I like to think of ecstasy as more of a dessert drug, myself. I'll give you ladies a freebie."
I see the opportunity to ask what he charges, and my curiosity is brimming just beneath the surface. I don't want to entertain the idea any further.
"That's what all the drug dealers say. The first hit's free, right? I learned about it during red ribbon week in elementary school."
I see the laughter in his eyes. He finds me funny, and not mean. I'm being mean, I think. Not flirting. Definitely not flirting.
"I'm Kaden," he says reaching his hand out toward me.
I open my mouth to quip back something with a slow burn, but Gabby reaches across me, intercepting his waiting hand. "I'm Gabby, and this is Vale."
"Val?" he asks me, with his eyebrows raised. He heard damn well what she said.
"Yep." I deadpan.
He tilts his head to the side, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Is your name whatever I want it to be?"
I feel a breath of air leave me in a rush as my jaw drops at his audacity. I feel the saliva gathering beneath my tongue. I can't resist a good verbal sparring match, and I seem to be well-matched with Mr. Kaden West.
"My name is Don't Bother."
His smirk turns into a full-blown smile, apparently enjoying our banter as much as I am when a guy pulls up a chair to the other side of Gabby. When Kaden catches sight of him, his smile disappears and is replaced with a hardness, his grey eyes turning cold.
"What are you doing here, Jer?"
"The guy named "Jer" shrugs. "It's a free country, Kade. You don't own the campus."
Kaden sits back in his chair, propping his arms on the armrests as though he were a king surveying his kingdom. "Oh, but I do. You selling here?"
Jer frowns before taking a pull off his beer. "And if I am?"
"I'd hate a repeat of last time, but I'm not above it. This time the couple of black eyes you got last time will seem like a gift."
I swallow hard. This is not friendly banter. This is how fights start. Not high school fights. There's no flag pole, no teachers to break it up. No bouncers at a bar. These things go sideways and I want no part of it.
Gabby, on the other hand, is glued to every word. She might as well pop some popcorn. She has always been a huge fan of reality TV, so I guess this is a familiar scene to her. For me, however, I'm uninterested.
Standing, I grab Gabby's hand, pulling her up with me, as I move to squeeze past Kaden's chair, but he surprises me by grabbing my wrist, stopping me. "Where are you going?"
For the second time tonight, I feel a rush of breath escape me at his audacity. "This?" I say, motioning between him and the other guy that just joined our circle, "It's a no from me, Kade."
I pull my wrist free, heading back toward the kegs. No sooner had the beer hit my solo cup did I hear the scuffle break out in the area we had just vacated. I can smell a fight like a sixth sense, and I knew that was coming a mile away. Others seem surprised or appalled, but neither Gabby nor I react.
When the fight doesn't seem to let up on its own, I see several frat guys heading that way along with Kaden's remaining bandmates. I chug the beer in my cup before leaning over to Gabby, "Time to go. The cops are going to get called."
She nodded to me, an irritated look on her face. I know she was looking forward to the first college banger of the year, but neither of us are technically of legal drinking age, despite what our fake IDs say. It's time for us to split.
I toss my cup in a stray garbage bag and make my way toward the gate.