"Which one do you like from those two?"

Honor wasted no time in looking for a frat guy I'd have to date for the stupid task.

I didn't even get the point of any of this. When I asked her about it on the way here at the party, she just shrugged and told me that each task had a purpose. I even asked if anybody thought it was a way of hazing us. That statement got rid of Honor's indifference real quick.

"Those tasks were chosen as services to the sorority," explained Honor earlier. It was clear that I pissed her off. "It's cool that you're curious about this sort of shit but sometimes, it's better not to question authority."

She left it at that.

I was brought back to the present when Honor pointed to a couple of tall guys by the pool table. One was some cute dark-haired guy and the other was a redhead. Surprise, surprise – it was Scout Crimson. If I pointed to the other guy, Honor would definitely choose Scout for me.

I wasn't an idiot. I've watched enough high school mean girl movies to know how these kinds of girls played.

"I liked the ginger," I told Honor.

She nodded. "Ginger, it is."

"Wait, wait," I protested in shock. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what?' I asked you, and you chose him." She paused and eyed Scout again, before telling me, "He's cute, too. Nice pick. Good luck!" Without waiting for me to reply, she quickly left and went to meet our other sister, Rae.

Great, I just fucking played myself.

"So?" asked Madeline, coming up beside me. "Who's it gonna be?"

"Red," I grumbled.

Her eyes widened in astonishment, then an amused smile slowly spread across her face. "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better."

"What, why?" piped up Jamaica, stepping up in front of us and blocking my view of Scout.

Lilian looked over her shoulder to where Golden Boy was. "Do you know that person?"

"We went to high school together," was all I said.

Jamaica raised an eyebrow. "How is that bad? At least now he's not some random stranger."

"Yeah, he's worse."

"Why, is he a jerk?"

Lilian shrugged. "He seems rather nice to me."

"That's the problem," I sighed.

Jamaica frowned in confusion. "I don't get you."

"Most people don't."

She smiled playfully. "Good thing we're gonna be sisters so I have the next four years to figure you out." She then winked at me, which I was now realizing was a habit of hers.

I grinned despite myself. "Uh-huh."

"So are we gonna do this or what?" asked Madeline, flashing us all an excited look.

Jamaica raised her hands and whooped. "Let's get the party starteeed!"

"First things first," started Madeline, raising a finger, "we need beer."

No kidding.

Ten tequila shots and seven jägerbombs later, we were split up and two of us were missing. We had a buddy system going on, but we all agreed to go home at the same time together. When Madeline and I tried calling the other two a couple of hours later, they were nowhere to be found.

"What the fuck happened to those two?"

"They're probably just around here somewhere. They couldn't have gotten far in their state."

"Try their phones again."

"Still not answering."

"Fuck," I cursed, raising my head and closing my eyes. "If I knew they were lightweights, we could've changed up the buddy system."

"I don't think it's about them being lightweights," replied Madeline. "Bitch, we drank a lot."

I opened my eyes and looked at her curiously. "Why are you not drunk?"

She snorted. "Do you know the amount of soirées there are during the summer? People my age would usually steal some blue labels and double blacks, then we'll sneak off to the nearby pool house to drink." She shook her head in amusement. "I'm not even including the weekend parties during the school year."

"Okay, badass," I said, laughing. "Now where should we start looking for those two?"

"We already looked for them outside in the backyard and the living room," stated Madeline thoughtfully. "How about the kitchen?"

I considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

We hurried to the kitchen, practically shoving people out of the way, which earned us a few glares but I didn't give a shit. I somehow felt responsible for those two and finding them was all that mattered right now.

Right as we entered the kitchen, we heard a deep male voice speak.

"You seriously don't have to clean that shit up, you know."

He sounded half-concerned and half-amused. But what caught my attention was the uncertainty in his voice, like he didn't know what to do.

When he came into view, we saw that he was casually leaning at the island counter with a red cup in one hand, watching a girl clean the sink. She was cleaning the fucking sink. In the middle of a party. At a fucking frat house.

That 'she' was our friend.

"Mind your own business," slurred Jamaica, determined on scrubbing the sink.

The dude chuckled. I couldn't see his face because his back was turned to us, but he was tall and lean. He had a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked preppy as hell, and all I saw was his back.

"Funny you should say that, because I'm pretty sure the brothers will make the pledges – like myself – clean the house in the morning. So it is actually my business." He stood up straight and raised his hands, adding, "But hey, who am I to stop you from making our job a little easier?"

Madeline and I exchanged looks.

"In fact, if you clean the whole kitchen... I'll pay you."

That does it.

I was already glaring when I stepped forward, ready to get in his face. But then, Madeline smacked him upside the back of his head. He yelped and turned around to face us.

"What the hell?"

"She's not a maid, loser," said Madeline, with gritted teeth.

He looked at her dubiously. "Would you rather if she cleaned for free? Look, she's halfway done already." He pointed to Jamaica's side of the kitchen, which was really spot clean.

"Doesn't matter," replied Madeline stubbornly, crossing her arms. "That was a douchey thing to say."

I left them at it and walked over to Jamaica. "Hey, it's time to go." I gently grabbed her arms to pull her away but she wouldn't budge.

"Not yet done," she whined.

"How was that douchey?" asked the preppy prick indignantly. "I offered her money."

"The fact that you don't know what's wrong with that blows my mind."

Well, wasn't this a sight? Both of them were obviously trust fund babies, but at least Madeline had her feet on the ground. The preppy prick wouldn't reach earth even if a lightning struck him in the sky.

I faced Jamaica again. "Don't worry," I assured her, snatching the dirty rag from her hands. "This Brad-Pitt-wannabe over here will finish up on all the cleaning."

I threw him the rag, aiming for the face, but he easily caught it. Damn.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking confused as fuck. "I really have no idea why you girls are upset. I felt bad for her cleaning our mess. I just didn't want your friend not to get anything out of it."

I caught Madeline visibly soften, as though she understood where he was coming from.

"If you really felt bad for her, you could've made her stop," I told him tonelessly. "Or at least offered to help. But you just watched her and let her do all your dirty work. On top of that, you were willing to pay her to do a job that you are well aware you're supposed to do tomorrow. In fucking short, you were using her to get out of it." I stared at him blankly. "Did I miss anything?"

He blinked, opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something but was afraid it would fire back. He was obviously thinking of something to say to defend himself.

Fortunately for him, we didn't have time for this. We still had to find Lilian. As if a savior on cue, I spotted Scout passing by outside the kitchen.

"Crimson!"

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned his head to my direction. When he saw me, he nodded and entered the room. The black shirt he was wearing looked out of place with his style because it made him look like a far cry from the goody-two-shoes I knew him to be. In fact, he looked... kind of... inviting.

"Anderson," he greeted, with a small smile like he knew a secret that I didn't. "I didn't know you'd be here."

Bullshit, I caught his eye earlier. It was totally unintentional. It wasn't that I was staring at him, my eyes just happened to land on him when Madeline and I were doing shots with some random guys.

But if he wanted to pretend he didn't see me, whatever.

"Is this dick your friend?" I asked Scout, nodding to the preppy prick.

"Not a dick," he mumbled, before drinking from his cup.

Scout eyed him for a second and nodded to me. "Yeah, why?"

"Great!" I exclaimed, with a sarcastic grin and false cheerfulness. "Since you're the epitome of good will and self-righteousness, why don't you explain to him why it's a shitty thing to offer someone he barely knows money like it's nothing just so he could get out of stuff?"

Scout frowned. "What happened?"

"He'll tell you. We have to go."

I looked at Madeline, who nodded in understanding. She rushed to the other side of Jamaica and we walked out of there together.

"Do you need help?" Scout called out.

"Nope!" I yelled back.

"Brody, what the heck?" I heard Scout say.

"I honestly have no clue, man."

I rolled my eyes at that.

As the three of us walked out of the house and across the lawn, I was contemplating how we were going to find Lilian. But then, Jamaica saved me the trouble.

"Car..."

Oh, right. She brought a car!

I dug around her purse, looking for her car keys until my fingers clasped the cold metal.

"Got it!"

"You drive," said Madeline.

I knew how to drive a car even though I never owned one, thanks to my best friend Oz. He taught me how to drive, in case of emergencies – like escaping from a store we just stole beer from back in high school.

We found Jamaica's silver jeep a couple of houses down. After getting her settled in the backseat, I climbed in on the driver's side while Madeline was on the passenger's.

"Paper bag," I reminded Madeline.

She nodded and tried to look for one in the compartment, to no luck. She found an empty manila envelope, though. She looked at me questioningly. I let out a laugh and shrugged.

"This'll have to do."

She opened the envelope wide and handed it to Jamaica.

"Thanks..."

"Now we find our hippie weirdo," I declared, starting the engine.

After fifteen minutes of driving around, we spotted a girl hugging a lamp post near the library. Her face was covered with her hair, but we'd know that unkempt brown hair anywhere.

"Is that...?" Madeline started to ask, but trailed off as she leaned forward to get a closer look.

"I think so," I answered slowly.

As soon as I parked in front of the girl, Madeline shot out of the car and ran to the girl.

"It's her!"

I jumped off the car to help Madeline get Lilian up in the backseat. We struggled for a bit, but we eventually managed to pull it off. When I closed the door, I looked at Madeline and found her staring at me.

"Now what?" she asked.

"We can't carry them to our dorms. We're not physically capable of that."

She bit her lip. "We can't just leave them in the car either, and I don't wanna stay cooped up in there for the rest of the night."

I glanced around, thinking. Then, I looked at my watch. It was only after two in the morning. There was only one safe place to go to at this time of night that I knew in my heart served the best food I've ever had.

"You wanna go for a drive?"

"To where?"

I shrugged. "My hometown is only a couple of hours away, remember? We can grab some midnight breakfast there and wait for these two to wake up, then drive back here and just sleep for the whole day."

"Why can't we just have breakfast in one of the restaurants here?"

"Because I'm craving for a certain kind of food that only a certain kind of diner has. Besides, we can kill some time by driving." I was so full of shit. I couldn't bring myself to admit the simple truth – I was homesick.

Madeline was watching me. I wasn't sure if she could see right through me, which I seriously doubted. But I also wouldn't it put it past her. She could be really unpredictable at times.

"Is the food good?"

"The best."

She nodded. "I'm sold. Let's go."

And so, we drove to my beloved Mount Valley, with Jamaica and Lilian passed out at the back while Madeline played some girly pop music on the stereo. When I complained, she reminded me that this trip was my idea so the least I could do was to accept the music she chose to play.

In the end, without realizing I was doing it, I was singing along to Party In The USA.

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Next Update: Thursday