“Problem, Marcus?” I speak lowly as I nudge his shoulder backwards, stepping between you two and cocking my head to the side while I wait for his half assed response.

Tonight’s party is just like every other frat house party, with rowdy people and loud obnoxious music and alcohol/drugs at every corner. But when I was on my way to the backyard, I noticed Marcus had you cornered in the living room. I don’t typically step into things, partially because it’s not my business and partially because I simply don’t give a fuck, but I’ve never seen you at any of these parties. You also stuck out like a sore thumb in the way that screams new girl. Marcus also tends to be a raging dick sometimes.

“Nah, Harry, no problem,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just wondering who goodie two shoes here was, ‘s all,” he adds. I nod slowly, giving him a forced tight smile. I stare at him until he finally gets the memo, cursing under his breath as he walks away. I roll my eyes, turning around. “You good?” I ask blankly, raising a brow.