Page 37 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares (The Society #1)

Georgia

T his wasn’t the first time I found myself standing in front of this house. At least this time, I had someone with me. Not that Rachel’s presence helped stem my anxiety any. If anything, this entire plot of land felt more sinister, as if the house and yard were plotting against me.

Even the Greek letters hanging above the door stared back at me as if they were daring me to cross the threshold and step into the bowels of hell.

“This is where the party is?”

The question was redundant. Anyone with eyes or ears could clearly see that a party was happening here. Music blared at an obnoxious volume, and there was this smell in the air similar to what one might find in a bar—a combination of cigarette smoke, sweetness, beer, and sweat.

It was not pleasant. And then there were the people. They were everywhere. Outside in the yard, on the deck, in the house, on the roof, there was even a girl hanging out an open window on the second floor.

This house was obviously the right place. Yet, I still held onto hope. There were other fraternities on campus. Surely, they did similar things on the weekends, right? According to Mom, that was what college was all about—studying hard and playing harder.

“Are you sure we’re at the right house?”

“Oh, honey…” Rachel patted the arm I had looped in hers, “When Alpha Lambda throws a party, this is the only house.”

I didn’t know what that meant. “You do know who lives here?”

Maybe she didn’t know? There was no way she would bring me to Issac’s place of residence, right?

“You’re not worried about Issac, are you?”

Or maybe she would.

“Look at all these people.” She waved her hand around at the crowd in the yard. “Issac’s not going to do anything.”

“There were a lot of people in the cafeteria too.” And that didn’t stop him. “Why is this any different?”

“This is a party. Everyone’s here to have fun. Besides… Issac never comes to these things.”

That was a horrible argument. “But he lives here.”

Issac may not go to other parties, but he literally slept in this house.

“Don’t worry.” Rachel tightened her hold on my arm. “You have me.”

Right, ‘cause she was so much help all the other times Issac showed up. “You could’ve told me where we were going beforehand.”

“Then you wouldn’t have come.”

No, I wouldn’t have. “So, you tricked me?”

“I didn’t trick you.”

Pulling my arm out of hers, I took a step back. “Yes, you did.”

I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her so-called friendship. What kind of set-up was she walking me into? People like her didn’t talk to people like me unless they had ulterior motives.

I learned that freshman year of high school, when Jamie Malloy invited me to her house for a sleepover. There was a sleepover, but I was not a guest. I was the entertainment for Jamie and her friends.

“I’m not falling for your tricks.” I would never be the butt of someone's joke again.

“I’m not trying to trick you, but maybe I did omit some information,” she admitted. “All you do is study and stress out. I just wanted you to have some fun, that’s all.”

And she thought bringing me to a house full of rowdy, inebriated people would be fun.

When I continued to eye her skeptically, Rachel huffed out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go back to your house and watch a movie.”

That was unexpected. I thought she would argue to get me inside. Maybe she didn’t have ulterior motives after all. Rachel was a social butterfly. Was she really willing to give up her night for me?

“Come on,” she muttered, defeated.

Now I felt bad. Rachel bringing me here was no different than what I’d been doing to her all week.

I wanted her to know that she had more than beauty to offer the world, which was why I encouraged her to study so much.

She was simply trying to help me in her own way.

While her methods weren’t the best, her intentions were good.

“No,” I sighed. “We can stay.”

She looked at me with hope glittering in her eyes. “Really?”

I nodded. Only an asshole could deny that look on her face.

“Yay!” She jumped up and threw her arms around me. “We are going to have so much fun.”

If she thought panic attacks and sweaty palms were fun, then sure.

We weren’t even inside yet, and my breathing was already labored.

This whole thing would’ve been easier to handle if I didn’t feel like I was on display.

We were getting looks from the people here, especially the men.

I didn’t like it. I wanted my cardigan and glasses.

No one looked at me when I had those on.

“People are staring at us,” I whispered as Rachel led me up the steps to the door.

“That’s because we look hot.”

I didn’t want to look hot or desirable in any way. That was inviting unwanted attention. However, once we were inside, I did try to loosen up and have fun for Rachel’s sake. Or at least I tried to fake having fun.

Every time Rachel introduced me to someone, I would smile and greet them back.

I even worked up the courage to shake one guy’s hand.

But my efforts were in vain. Almost everyone we talked to cut the conversation short, or they asked if I was okay.

I wasn’t sure if it was my smile or greeting that threw them off, but since it was pretty hard to say the word hello wrong, I was going to assume it was the smile.

Needless to say, I was not the hit of the party, which was perfectly fine with me.

Rachel, on the other hand, fit in flawlessly.

What caused me so much anxiety was effortless for her.

She could converse and laugh with complete strangers like they were best friends.

It was fascinating watching her float from one group to another.

But it also made me wonder how sincere her friendship with me was.

Did Rachel genuinely like me? Did I truly like her?

Trust didn’t come easily for me. Everyone who paid attention to me had a motive.

Whether it was for a prank, help with schoolwork, or some other way I could entertain or benefit them.

No one talked to me just because. It made it hard to take people at face value.

Sometimes I couldn’t even trust my own mother.

Seeing Rachel so easily switch personalities didn’t make me feel any better about her.

Which version of her was the real one? Was it the Rachel I knew?

The one who shot a dirty look at that girl across the room?

Or was it the one who batted her eyes at men?

Maybe it was a combination of the three?

Maybe it was none of them? Maybe I didn’t know Rachel at all.

“This is Georgia,” Rachel waved her hand at me before smiling at some guy in a red shirt.

“Hello, Georgia,” he sang while raking his gaze down me.

I reared back from his way too sensual stare. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

After my various meetings with Kash, it was imperative to clarify that right away. I thought it was a sensible choice given how he was looking at me.

Rachel did not.

“Don’t mind Georgia,” She giggled awkwardly. “She’s shy and can be a little awkward.”

I wasn’t shy. I was uncomfortable. If Rachel were truly my friend, she would know that. Not that she would care if she did, Rachel was too busy pawing at red shirt’s arm to notice anything.

“I like awkward.” He shot me a wink and slung his arm over Rachel’s shoulders. “What do you say we take this party to a more private location?”

Rachel batted her lashes up at him. “That sounds great. Doesn’t it, Georgia?”

“No.” Did she seriously just ask me that?

“Oh, come on,” Rachel argued. “It’ll be fun.”

No, it wouldn’t. Suddenly, being around Rachel felt like a bad idea. If she thought she could talk me into a private party with red shirt, what else was she going to try to convince me to do?

I stepped back and bumped into someone, which caused me to bump into someone else, and then someone else. The crowd around me suddenly became extremely suffocating. Everywhere I looked, there were more eyes, staring and judging me.

The walls closed in on me as the lights brightened, making it difficult to see. Or maybe they had dimmed, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I needed to get away from Rachel and everyone else in this room.

“Georgia…” Rachel leaned over to speak in my ear. “Evan and I are going to go and get a drink. Are you okay here?”

Music pulsed through the floor and into my spine, making it difficult to hear what she said.

“What?” Had it always been this loud in here, or was my panicked pulse drowning out everything else?

“Evan and I are going to go get a drink.” She repeated louder.

I stepped back and nodded. If Rachel wanted to go off with that guy, that was more than fine. She should go and get away from me. Everyone should get away from me.

Rachel and Red Shirt walked away as sharp, echoing laughter broke out in another room.

No one laughed directly at me, but it still made my shoulders lock.

I shifted closer to the wall, trying to disappear in the shadows, where no one could see me, and I would be safe.

But the room seemed somehow smaller and more crowded than it was five minutes ago.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to push away the overwhelming, heavy sensation and told myself that there was nothing to worry about. I was fine. This was simply a party. It was no different than being in a full classroom.

But it was a lot different. I could feel everyone’s breath and smell the sweat in the air as my pulse pounded in my fingertips.

My chest squeezed so tight that I couldn’t tell if I was short of breath or not breathing at all, while the bass of the music thrummed in sync with the panic coursing through my body.

A panic attack was coming. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I needed to find the bathroom.