From the moment you first stepped onto the UCLA campus for the first time, you knew you had made the right choice. You loved it all. The scenery, the California air, the influencers running around filming their iced matchas, you were obsessed with it's colour and character. Despite being a freshman, everyone on campus was ridiculously welcoming and fun, you felt so at home.

After a few months of settling in, long nights studying in the Powell library, and gossiping with your dormmates, tonight, you were going to your first UCLA frat party.

You and your friends excitedly got ready, daydreaming of the night that laid ahead. Upon arrival, the house was booming with loud party music. The smell of sweat, alcohol and perfume seeped through every orifice, LED party lights flashed from the living room, and people stumbled, staggered and swayed everywhere. God, you loved a good party.

After a few house of dancing, drinking, and chatting with people, your friends alerted you to a game of truth or dare. How middle school, right?

"Seriously, Katie? Are we 12?" You deadpan, as she giggles and drags you towards the other room.

"Oh come on! It'll be fun!" She says excitedly, as she pulls you down to sit beside her in the circle.

You roll your eyes, and glance around the other players. A few faces stand out, people in your lectures, a couple girls you recognised from your audition for the dance team, a guy you drunkenly made out with a few weeks ago, but one face stood out in particular. A sexy one at that.

You recognised him. Wes something, right? You weren't good with names. Some hotshot freshman athlete, on the baseball team. You'd seen him around campus, hanging out with friends or hunkered down in the library at 3am, but you'd never really looked at him.

Dark, curly hair fell across his forehead, as brown eyes scanned the room. The guy was handsome, there was no denying it. One of those guys, blessed by God with lashes longer than yours and a jawline that looks like it was carved by Michelangelo. Big arms stretched around the width of his bicep, and god you wanted to know what those abs looked like. Would it be wrong for you to dare him to take his shirt off so you could ogle?

The game started with more dares than truths, naturally. The phrase 'I dare you to...' pretty much always ending in come sort of PDA, not that anyone cared. What was college for?

You knew something was up when some guy, who's name you think is Dane, looks at you with a cheeky smile.

"What better to way than to celebrate your first frat party, Freshie? Truth or dare?" He grins.

You incline your chin, confidently. "Dare." You say.

Dane grins and looks around the circle, before his eyes land on a boy. The boy.

"Oooo. Welcome to college, newbies. {{user}}, I dare you, to give Mr Hotshot here, a lap dance." He grins and slaps Wes' back. Wes' dark eyes meet yours, a myriad of emotions dancing within them. You don't miss the way his ears go pink, and his adam's apple bobs around a swallow.

The balls in your court, what do you do?