Verge

Chapter 5: Conceit

"Um...I think it's time to leave."

"We've been here for literally five seconds."

"Yeah, and we should go. Like, now."

Brian snorted in reply. Bradley sighed at that and tried not to grimace as he looked around. He had no real expectations regarding what the party would be like, but this was in no way similar to the varied-niche cultural melting pot Brian had suggested. Everyone seemed to be either drunk or high or a combination of both, the ground was littered with plastic cups, puddles of spilled liquids, slobbering couples playing tongue hockey and screaming teenage boys apparently trying their hardest to flush beer into their lungs.

And those were just the people around the front porch.

"Relax," Brian said, rolling his shoulders and loosening a crick in his neck. "It's really not that bad."

"How is this even happening? I thought alcohol was banned on school grounds."

Brian made a tutting sound and shook his head while giving Bradley a patronizing leer. "You have no idea how these things work, do you? Come with me, young padawan. I shall explain everything."

He started off towards the frat house. Bradley remained on the sidewalk for a few seconds, before he realized how awkward he looked and followed Brian up the porch steps, headed towards what he was sure was a cesspit of debauchery and disease. Besides the inebriated youth, the house was impressive, as large as a mansion and constructed in a classic style that vaguely reminded him of the White House, given the row of stone columns in front. He couldn't remember when it was built - it was mentioned during the tour and he was fairly certain it was one of the recent additions - but he knew it was where the most affluent students lived, at least the ones who wanted the "college experience" or whose parents had refused to let them live outside the campus grounds.

"Why would they host the party here anyway?" he muttered as he reached the top of the stairs, looking up at the electronic banner that ticked out a welcome message over the front door.

"Because spoiled rich kids like their space," Brian replied. He was waiting by the door, and Bradley wasn't sure whether to be grateful. He was half hoping Brian would go in alone so he could make a U-turn and head back to the boring safety of their dorm, but he also had a feeling that Brian would have noticed his absence. Also, the idea of leaving Brian here alone made him oddly uncomfortable.

"That doesn't make any sense." Bradley replied. "Throwing a party is, like, the exact opposite of what they should be doing."

Brian smirked knowingly and pulled the door open. Bradley expected a swarm of bodies to spill out and was already prepared to step away, but the scene he met was quite the opposite. The lobby was all but empty, with a table holding the bowl of punch placed beside the door that led into the inner rooms of house. On the other side of the doorway was a hefty looking guard, and manning the punch table was a girl who was reclining on a chair and text-chatting. She raised her head as soon as they approached and put on the least enthusiastic smile Bradley had ever seen.

"Hiya," she said, gesturing towards the inner door with her free hand. "Grab some punch. Or don't, if it's not your thing. Food and drinks inside, party's at the back. Enjoy."

"Thanks," Brian said with a polite nod. "We'll try," he added, looking back at Bradley. Bradley responded with a flat stare and looked at the guard warily, but the man pretended not to notice their presence. He still wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but the calm atmosphere of the room seemed bizarre given the happenings outside. He followed Brian through the door and stopped to stare around the living room. Like the lobby, it was a bed of inactivity, with teenagers sitting in clusters and looking at their phones, a few engaged in conversation as mellow music played through speakers in the corner.