The Night’s On Fire
Warnings: Underage drinking, drunken sex.
You feel the bass pounding beneath your feet the moment you step out of the car. The massive house is overflowing with college kids (and brave locals), stumbling around with red cups in hand. You can see strobe lights flashing and smoke from the smoke machines drifting out of the open door and you know that this is not the place you want to spend your night.
“Smile, sweetheart,” one of the brothers slurs as you wait by the door for your roommate, “you’re at a party!”
Before you can retort, one of the more sober brothers working the door shoves him inside. “Sorry about him. He’s a new brother. They’re finally allowed to drink and he’s gotten a little out of control,” he explains. “I was going to ask over or under but because there’s vodka in your cup, I’m assuming over. Don’t tell me if I’m wrong.” He holds his hand out for yours and scribbles a circle on the back with a grin. “Enjoy the party.”