The Beautiful Game

Chapter Three - Lou

     My drunkenness made it hard to keep track of how long I'd been outside. Lingering in the kitchen, alone, just got creepier the more people that came in and saw me stood there like some kind of kitchen troll waiting for a gold coin.

I wasn't brave enough or even willing enough to go on the search for Ella; hopefully by now, she'd found Marcus and my job as wing-woman was simple as just staying the hell out of the way. The decision to finish listening to My Favourite Murder podcast came when I'd been outside for over a half hour and all calls to Ella went to voicemail.

'On October 5th, police dogs aided in the haunting discovery of the girl's tortured remains on the premises of Dr Heston-'

"I fucking knew it!" Obviously, it was him, the psychopath was signing off for the poor girl's unnecessary, addictive, and tranquilizing medications for months. Grooming her and making her dependent on him, all before luring her into his home, sexually assaulting her and torturing her to death. "Of course, it was Dr Pervert! I knew there was something wrong with that fucker-"

     An abrupt cough makes me jump and the speed of which I flick my head up almost gives me whiplash. I ignore the sharp pain in my neck as I look up toward the tall male figure stood watching me from just outside the kitchen side door.

    Oh god, like it's not mortifying enough to be caught sat outside drinking alone at a party, I'm doing it whilst listening to a murder podcast. I clamber up to my feet whilst desperately trying to pause the talk of gruesome morbid details playing from my phone. I decide the best thing to do is just walk back into the party and act as if this never happened. I can't help but peak another look at him as I head toward the door, the warm glow from the kitchen lighting up his profile.

     It's Carter Hughes.

     Michigan's up and coming quarterback. You couldn't walk through Campus without seeing or hearing something about this guy and his impeccable gameplay. Not only that, but it's also hard to be a female at Michigan and not hear about the other games he plays, particularly the fuckboy kind.

     He's so tall. I wasn't capable of gaging just how tall he is from the pictures. His strong jawline is like something from an old Hollywood movie, his head of messy brown curls falling onto his furrowed brow.

     It's only then that I realise he's frowning as he watches me scurry. I feel ridiculous, the happy buzzed feeling I had from the alcohol has left me and the gold dress and strappy heels just have me feeling like an imposter. His scowl is like a smack to the face. He must realise just how little I belong here as I do myself. I'm practically running as I head into the foyer.

      The house feels stifling, the air thick as people have made the transition from happy drunk to horny, messy drunk. There are multiple students slouched against the walls, some having deep looking conversations, others are entangled with one another, tongues duelling and hands wandering. I find myself heading towards the back of the house, the beer pong tournament has been abandoned and replaced by two cheerleaders dancing on the table. There are even some dudes throwing dollar bills at them. Wolverine, our mascot, is passed out in the corner of the room.

     I see a flash of red hair behind the dancing cheerleaders and move closer. Sara, the girl who dragged Ella away from me is laughing with another girl, who is not Ella. I approach her out of sheer desperation, and judging by the orgy in the foyer, I'm not about to go opening occupied rooms upstairs at this time of night.

"Sara, hi." I crouch in front of her, she raises an eyebrow at me, and I know she's already forgotten who I am. "I'm Ella's roommate, Lou. Remember I met you in the kitchen?"