My first week of classes has left me physically sore and mentally exhausted, yet with each passing day my plan to get sent home has become little more than wisps in the back corner of my mind, only remembered when I text with Piper. But yesterday, when she mentioned Wes’ hook up with Stacey, it only solidified my resolution to stay here at least a bit longer. Not to mention my parents are over the moon about me being here.

Friday night I’m sitting on the center of MJ’s bed while she swirls miniature brushes into well-used compacts. She brushes my whole face with a thick foundation.

“What do I need this for?” I’m not used to wearing anything that covers my whole face.

“It evens your skin tone out,” MJ says. I study her more closely and see that her makeup is flawless, but still manages to look natural. I loosen my shoulders, and begin to relax a little.

“So, what will tonight be like?” I ask.

MJ concentrates on sharpening a black eye pencil into a tissue lying on the bed.

Sara tucks her dark hair behind her ears. “It’ll be most of our class, plus a few second years hanging out, playing games, reveling in their geekiness. A few people will drink too much. Some of the girls will get annoying and turn up the music to grind on each other, you know, pretty typical stuff.”

I smile while MJ swipes bronzer across my cheeks and forehead. “Sounds like fun.”

She shrugs and finished by lining my eyes with the black pencil and adding a few swipes of mascara. When I look in the mirror I’m pleasantly surprised. My complexion is clear, I’m a bit tan and my blue eyes stand out against the dark makeup.

MJ gathers everything from the bed, stuffing it into the pink makeup bag and then we set off for the basement.

“You go ahead.” I shoo her out the door. “I’ll meet you down there in minute.” MJ eyes me curiously. “I’m gonna make a quick phone call.”

She nods once and turns to leave. The phone call home’s not a bad idea, but really I need a minute alone. I don’t have the energy to fake sounding happy and well-adjusted right now. I just want a second to myself. I open the trunk at the end of my bed and refold all the clothes I shoved inside when I was too overwhelmed to unpack earlier this week. At home, I had two dressers plus a walk in closet that were never this organized, but with less space to work with, I have a strange desire to keep it tidy.

I’m not sure why I’m hesitating joining them at the party. Maybe because if I make friends here, it’ll be like admitting I’m staying. I haven’t decided yet, but I certainly haven’t been doing anything that would get me kicked out like I’d originally planned. Piper’s recent texts to me have gone unanswered. I didn’t know how to tell her that it doesn’t look like I’ll be thrown out anytime soon and that I’m enjoying this reprieve from seeing Wes.

When I’ve refolded the last tank top and placed it on the top of the stack, I let the lid drop closed. I steal one last glance at the mirror and head into the hall. Just as I’m turning the corner, I meet Colt at top of the staircase. He stops his descent from the third floor and waits. His eyes linger on me and suddenly I’m self-conscious under his scrutiny. I can’t help but wonder if he’s remembering me in all my glory: hip cocked out and gyrating like a drunken lunatic.

My patience is shot. All week I’ve answered endless questions, I’m adjusting fine – thank you – with plastered on fake smiles and polite nods, and I don’t have it in me to be polite right now, especially to the guy who stood by watching me attempt to dance at Bria’s command. Mostly I’m mad at myself for allowing her to make me into a fool.

I intend to step around him, but as I take a step down, in my flustered state I’ve misjudged the distance and end up tripping. Colt’s steady hands around my waist stop me from tumbling to my death.

“Thanks,” I mumble without meeting his eyes.

His hands are still at my waist. We both look down and notice, and he slowly removes his hands, and stuffs them into his pockets. “Are you going to the party?”

I nod and try another step. I’m steady this time, but I reach out and trail my hand along the banister just to be safe.

He jogs down next to me until we’re side by side. I wouldn’t have thought instructors would be going to the party, but somehow I know that’s where he’s headed. I try to ignore him and not let him get under my skin, but with his faint trace of cologne invading my senses and his snug fit T-shirt, he’s incredibly distracting.

We reach the basement in silence and he slides open a heavy door set on a rolling track. He keeps his hand on the door, holding it open for me and I slide in around him, brushing past his chest in the process.

Inside is a large open room with a concrete floor and walls. The wall on the far side of the room is painted in multi-colored graffiti. There are signatures, a rough sketch of a dragon, a long math equation and lots of drippy handprints. I step closer and read some of the writing. Tabitha + David.  Adrianna ’07. McAllister sucks donkey ballz. Bria is written in large flowy writing with a heart dotting the i. Gag me.

Dance music is thumping from the speakers plugged into a laptop. MJ and a few others sway to the music in the center of the room and pass a flask back and forth.

There’s a group sitting around a table, a few guys along with Bria and a girl I don’t recognize who must be a second year. They seem to be in the middle of an over-eager game of strip poker. Bria is shirtless with a hot pink bra pushing her cleavage up to her throat. One of the guys is also shirtless, but the rest have opted for lesser articles. Watches, belts and socks litter the floor at their feet. Colt is still at my side and my eyes flick up to his. He seems amused by the innocence and surprise in my reaction.

MJ spots us at the door and jogs over. “Hey!” She passes me a flask. I take it and look from her to Colt. Our instructor. I assume since he’s here and no one seems concerned, I shouldn’t be either, but this is beyond strange. I make a move to pass the flask back to her, but Colt’s sly smile makes me want to show him I’m not a stuck up stiff. I don’t know why his mere presence infuriates me, but I suddenly want to be more reckless. I tip back the flask, taking a long swig, then break into a coughing fit. “What is that?”

“Tequila.”

“Tastes like gasoline.” I take another quick sip which goes down a little easier than the first, and pass it back to her. Colt’s smile has faded. I can’t read him.

Colt tips his head, motioning to the wall as a tug of a smile pulls on his mouth. “Nicely done.”

I turn to see a big poster on the wall displays the results of this week’s geek tests, and I’m surprised to find my name listed second from the top, only behind a guy named Pete who is galloping around the room in a cape.

Strange. I shake the feeling of panic away. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get back to the dorm safe and sound,” he says, his voice dropping an octave lower so only I can hear him.

“So are you chaperoning this shin dig?” I whisper back.

              He chuckles under his breath. “Um, no.”

I watch him scan the room and when his eyes stop on Bria, I weave around him. I head to the far end of the room where I spot Logan sitting against the wall.

I slide down and collapse onto the floor next to him. He glances over once before pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his black hoodie. He shakes one out and lights it, then offers me the pack.

“No thanks.”

Logan and I play tic tac toe with chalk on the floor, the most innocent of pastimes by far compared to what’s going on around us. Couples have paired off and found not-so-private corners of the room to make out in, others are getting sloppy drunk, including Bria’s friend who’s still in the poker game. Though she tries to cover herself, I swear I just caught a glimpse of a nipple.