Page 31 of Tell Me I'm Enough

Yet inside, I feel nothing.

9

Mason

It’s a new semester, but I plan on getting into the same amount of shit as I did last semester.

It took a little while for me to fully open myself up here and enjoy the perks of college, but I’m finally starting to. I’m having fun. I’m not thinking about home or all the things I’m missing out on. I’m not worrying about my future and the one I’ll be forced into. I’m just…living for me right now. Day by day, fucking shit up and having a grand old time getting into trouble.

I won’t say the guys I’ve gotten close to in the fraternity haven’t helped a little with the chaos, but I’m enjoying it, as well as Bash, who’s always into some shit and dragging me along with him. I’ve gotten pretty close to him since we met. We party together a lot, and try to have real conversations when we’re both sober enough.

We have a core class together this semester, which gives us a little more of that sober time to bond over. He’s in the gradeabove me and hasn’t declared his major yet, so he’s kind of just winging it so far. He’s cool, the kind of friend you want having your back when shit goes down.

We’re on our way to class this morning, walking through campus, when I pull out a cigarette from my jeans. I take a puff and blow it in Bash’s direction.

He’s got his hood up and sunglasses on even though the sun is barely in the sky, which means he must have had a fun night.

He waves it away and shoves me. “Don’t get me in trouble because you don’t know how to follow the rules.”

“Lighten up,” I tell him. “I wish it was a blunt. I just need something to take the edge off before class.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have daddy’s money to get me out of trouble if security gets on your ass.”

I take another drag. “Well,” I say on the inhale. “Good thing my piece of shit dad has enough money to get us both out of trouble.”

He laughs and tucks his hands back into his hoodie.

We cut through the quad and through the students who are all still trying to wake up this morning to get to class.

“Kappa is throwing a big rager this weekend,” I tell him, “if you’re down to be around a bunch of frat guys.”

“I gotta stop partying with you Sig boys. Y’all make me question my life choices too much.”

I put the end of the cigarette out on a wall we pass by before throwing it in the grass. “Yeah, last one got a little wild, huh?”

“A little,” he says with a gaping expression. “You had like three girls on your lap at one point.”

I grimace at that memory. “Yeah, you know, sometimes I feel a little taken advantage of at those things.”

“Seemed like you were pretty resilient,” he teases, nudging my arm. “Is the harem still rotating them like players on the bench?”

I tip my head back and laugh. “I think you’re confusing me with yourself. I see the way girls beg to be taken home by Sebastian Perez.” I pretend to turn on my best desperate girl voice. “Ohh, Bash. Please, take me home and have your way with me, and then forget to ever call or remember my name.”

He tries to hold in a laugh and fails. “If there’s enough drinks in me, I can’t be held responsible for what…orwhoI do.”

“Enough alcohol…and coke,” I tease.

He shoots me a look. “Hey, low blow.”

I raise my hands and a brow. “Youloveblow.”

He shoves me, and I almost lose my balance laughing.

“Just save some girls for the rest of us,” he teases. “I only take home one at a time. You hoard them like collectibles.”

It’s so funny to hear the perception people have of me. Don’t get me wrong, I like to party and have a good time with the girls around here, but that’s it. That’s as far as it goes. I have football, school, and the frat house to focus on. Distractions outside of a night of partying don’t interest me.

We head into our statistics class, and a guy calls out to Bash as soon as he sees him—tall, fair skin, dark hair, dark features, tattoos littering his arms, and way too excited for this time of the morning.