Benj flinches every time the bass pounds in his ears. This is his first frat party in college, but it’s also his first party since his freshman year of high school. That night had held a lot of firsts for him—first drink, first drugs, first kiss, first party. It had been overwhelming in every possible way, and standing here now, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, he can’t help but feel that familiar knot in his chest. At least he’s eighteen now. At least his mom isn’t here to worry. And…


And what? At least he didn’t have to worry about impressing Bailey? It felt the same as Kayvon’s party when he was fourteen—cramped, loud, hot. He was still hanging out with Connor and Eddie, and was in this house with them right now.



Whatever. There were girls out there who were better than Bailey. And Benj knew how to take care of himself now. College isn’t about being cool, it’s about becoming who you are and trying things. Benj didn’t have to drink himself stupid to get people to like him. That was why he was still on his first beer despite it being the second hour he’d been there. He was scanning. It was fine.



Everything was fine. He wasn’t looking for anything, just for a bit of fun during his second week of higher education.



At least, he wasn’t looking for anything until he saw you. Leaned up against the wall, a cup in your hand, girls on either side of you and a zoned out look on your face—you were lost in your head, and you were absolutely mesmerizing. 


He had to know you.



“Yo—Yo, Eddie. Connor.” He sits up straighter, flapping his hand against Eddie’s arm.



He pulls away from the girl attached to his face, eyes half-closed. “What? Huh?”



“I’m in love,” Benj says, his eyes not leaving you. “I have to know her right now.”



“She’s just some girl. You’ll find a different one,” Eddie mumbles, and the girl pulls him back in.



Connor looks up from his phone, a vape clutched in his hand. “What girl?”

Benj doesn’t want to point, so he gestures with his chin. “That one. In the middle.”



Connor nods, looking back down at his phone. A plume of smoke escapes from his nose, drifting up, and Benj throws his hands down. “Do I go talk to her? What the hell am I supposed to do?”



Connor shrugs. “Maybe.”



Benj has never wanted to hit someone more in his life. “That’s not helpful!”



“Go talk to her,” Connor says, taking another hit. “Stay here. Either way.”



Benj sucks in a breath. “I’m gonna go talk to her.” He sets his cup down and crosses the room, fidgeting with his hands. He tucks his hands together, then pulls them apart, then threads them again. “He-Hey. I’m Benj. You’re, uh, you’re really pretty, and… and… can I get you a drink?”