You're the Reason - J. Nathan Page 0,3

and some in a group together.

Chantel had her arms wrapped tightly around a tall guy who had his face buried in her neck. I couldn’t see his face, but my guess was he was either the president of the frat or the best-looking guy in that dark basement. Chantel didn’t seem the type to settle for anything less. His massive arms were wrapped around her waist, and he must’ve been doing or saying something to elicit the laughter tumbling out of her.

I spotted some of the other girls dancing together. Valerie, though just as pretty as the others, looked out of place in the group. Maybe it was her dark hair. Or, maybe it was the strange way her eyes looked devoid of light around the other girls. One on one, she seemed fine. But in the middle of the group, she looked…uncomfortable.

“Drink up,” the guy with the shaved head said, leaning against the wall beside me again. “It’s a party. Have fun.”

He was right. I did need some fun in my life. I tipped back my cup and downed my beer.

“And just like that, she’s here to party,” my new friend announced as I wiped the foam off my top lip with the back of my hand. “I’m Ryan.”

“Sophia.” I said as a wave of warmth spread through my body thanks to the beer coursing through it. “I just transferred.”

He nodded, like he understood. “Well, let’s go get you another beer.”

A few beers later, I found myself in the middle of the dance floor dancing with Valerie and some of the other girls. I was laughing and actually having fun, and I knew, besides being totally buzzed, I was happier here than I’d ever been in Maine.

A hand grasped hold of my wrist, catching me off guard. I twisted around to find Ryan tugging on my arm and leading me off the dance floor. “What are you doing?”

“Let’s go play pool.”

I laughed to myself as I let him lead me upstairs to the main floor where a group of guys and girls stood around a pool table, using it as a seat or a place to set down their drinks.

“All right people, move it!” he called.

They hopped off the table, clearing the way for us to play. “I need to show Maine how we do things in Texas.”

My head whipped back. “Maine?”

“Word travels fast at a school this size.”

“I’m actually from Texas,” I assured him, a little unsettled that people I didn’t know already knew about me.

He racked up the balls on the table. “Ladies first—unless you need me to show you how it’s done.”

I slipped a pool stick off the rack on the wall. “I think I can manage.” I lined up my shot on the table then glanced to Ryan who seemed to be staring at my ass. “Do I do it like this?” I asked, feigning oblivion.

His eyes jumped from my ass to my eyes. “Uh huh.”

I tapped my pool stick into the cue ball. The triangle of colorful balls split apart, landing in all directions on the table. Two of the striped balls buried themselves in the corner pockets at the far side of the table.

“Nice break,” Ryan said, his eyes scanning the pool table. “Looks like you’re stripes.”

“Are those the ones with the stripes on them?” I asked facetiously.

He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re a ringer, aren’t you?”

I smiled, then proceeded to sink every one of the striped balls. I’d grown up with a pool table in my basement. So, I knew my way around a table, but Ryan took it like a champ, slapping my hand and getting me another drink after my victory.

Somewhere around midnight, I found myself puking alone in the front yard. Thankfully, no one else had ventured out to witness the grace that was my drunken self.

I stumbled my way over to the curb and sat down. My head throbbed and my stomach roiled, though I couldn’t imagine anything was left inside me. I pulled a pack of wintergreen gum from my pocket and stuffed three pieces into my mouth, contemplating my next move.

I could go back in and let Chantel know I was leaving, if she even noticed I disappeared. I could try to walk back to the dorm without face-planting somewhere along the way—if I could remember the way back. Or, I could call an Uber in hopes that they knew where my dorm was.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice called, cutting