When Olivia said that we were going to a party, I did not expect it to be a frat party. I had seen a lot of those in the movies and read about them in almost all the teen fic novels that I had read. And the frat house seemed quite close to the ones depicted in those movies, minus the bitchy mean girls of course. It looked old, very old from the outside. So old that I feared that all the vibrations from the music and the drunk, horny students dancing were enough to bring it down.

Much to my relief the unknown couple making out at the corner of the hall, bordering dangerously close to the kitchen island, where I currently sat with a glass of beer in my hand, had decided to change the course of their direction and went in the direction where I assumed the bedrooms to be.

I had also not expected Liv to ditch me within half an hour of us being here. But I couldn't exactly blame her for that. Within ten minutes of us being here, I had seen more known people than I wanted too. But instead of it bringing comfort to me, a different kind of fear had been instilled in my mind.

It was my first time around so many people together after my transition. I myself had difficulty when I tried to spot the similarities between the new Rachel and the old one, but they were still there, hidden beneath the layers. I feared someone would see right through me. This fear had always been there since when I first started going out to stores and malls after the surgery with Aunt Heath and Mom. The first time had been hell. I was positive that everyone would see right through me and was sweating profusely by the time Aunt Heath had parked the car and was waiting for me to get out of it.

"You are a girl, inside and out, don't ever let anyone tell you anything else," Mom had whispered these words in my ear to calm me down.

Turned out I was only being paranoid, and not one person out of so many gave me the weird glance I was expecting. Not when I had gone into the women's section during the security check at the entrance. Not when I had visited the girl's restroom with Aunt Heath. And not when I went into the changing room of the small boutique with ten different dresses to try on.

But this was different. Mom was not here to hold my hand anymore. I had to deal with this on my own.

Liv and I had decided to meet in the kitchen at midnight, whether it was to go back to the dorm together or not, we will meet here, discuss further plans and then go wherever we had to. And since I had no plans of going anywhere except crawling into my comfy bed, I stayed in the kitchen.

I kept the now empty glass of beer beside me and picked up another one from the tray kept on the counter and started sipping on it.

Maybe I should just go and dance?

I heard a sound behind me and saw a guy bent down looking inside the fridge for something.

Nice ass that one.

He straightened up, and now had a bottle of chilled water in his hands and then turned around to catch my eyes.

My stomach started with the mini summersaults again as my eyes raked through his body. He was wearing a black fitted t-shirt, it's sleeve rolled up to reveal the bulge of his muscles and blue wash jeans. His copper curls were tousled and his eyes glazed a little revealing he was a little tipsy just like I was. And me being a little tipsy could be the only reason why I was shamelessly checking him out.

I turned my head back discreetly, pretending that the drunk people jumping and making out in front of me were the most fascinating beings on earth. But who was I kidding?

Foster Wilson had obviously seen me checking him out.

I felt (a very specific) someone shift beside me, and now he was leaning against the island that I was sitting on.

"You did not dress like that to just sit in the corner on the kitchen island," he mused looking straight towards the crowd I was looking at.

Not understanding what he exactly meant, I assumed the same tone I had during our conversation in The Steam Room.

"Whatever I dressed for, is none of your business Wilson,"

He tilted his head to look at me before speaking, making the summersaults in my stomach go wild, "You wound me, Rachel Smith, this entire week I have been thinking what I even did to expect such hostile behavior from you," he said and laughed sarcastically.

Exactly, Wilson, you did not do anything, I thought but stayed quiet and sipped on my beer, my head spinning a little now. How many of those had I had?

"Would you like to dance? It isn't fair for you to look so pretty and sit in the corner alone,"

Before I could cut him off with another one of my snarky remarks, what he said hit me, and then I jumped down from the island, giving him a look that conveyed the message without me having to say it out loud.

I don't know if I agreed because I was just tipsy and my head swayed, or because he called me pretty, or because I was tired of trying to hate him for the past week, or simply because I wanted to dance. But here I was, dancing with Foster on an upbeat tune that played. My head swayed from side to side liking the feel of it, and my hands found there way to Foster's shoulders every now and then.

The expression he had on his face was somewhere between relief and confusion. I am sure he thinks I am a loon, a girl who overreacts for absolutely no reason, a girl who did not even want to see his face just fifteen minutes ago and now was losing herself to the music with him.

The only thing which was sobering me up a little were his warm hands on my bareback. The minute he had put them up there to keep me from falling down, goosebumps had crawled up my skin from his touch and were making me feel things that I should absolutely not be feeling.

Suddenly the music changed to a slow one and my swaying also stopped. My hands were around Foster's neck, I was almost clinging to him and his were around my exposed waist.

Never in a thousand years, I had imagined this, but life has ways of putting you in situations you least expect.

"You dance well," he said slowly, his lips very close to my ears.

"You aren't bad yourself," my head was near the crook of his neck, not wanting to look into his eyes.

He stayed quiet and suddenly I was reminded of all the times when he had stayed quiet when Christian and Hannah had tormented me. My mind was bombarded with flashes of images from middle school. Maybe I would have had a better childhood if he had decided to correct his friends.

I stepped back a little, looking at the floor as I realized that my eyes were filled with tears.

"I think I need some air," I turned around not looking at him assuming he will not follow me and made my way towards the gigantic doors of the house.

As soon as I was out, I was hit by the cool night air and I shivered a little. Even though it was still hot, my hands and back were completely exposed and goosebumps crawled up my skin.

I folded my hands across my chest and spotted a bench underneath a huge tree and decided to go sit on it for a while.

There were a few people outside, snapping pictures, just doing silly stuff with there friends, I smiled a little and went and sat down on the bench. The cool of the night calmed me down a little and I was no longer panicking.

Just then I heard ruffling of grass and Foster came and sat beside me.

"I feel like we had something in the past," he mused.

My breath hitched in my throat and I asked without looking at him, "Wh...What does that mean?"

"You always seem to be running away from me," I looked at him and he was still looking ahead with a small smile on his face.

My shoulders relaxed and I let out a small laugh, which made him look at me.

"I just needed some air, this isn't exactly my scene," I said pointing my thumb backward from where the sound of music was coming.

"I am just glad you aren't running away again," He laughed and I did too.

"How do you know my full name?" I asked since it had been bothering me since he had called me Rachel Smith in the kitchen.

"Just like you know my last name," he raised an eyebrow at me.

That is because we went to the same middle school smartass.

"We are in the same class Smith, I would know that much at least."

I nodded wordlessly at what he said and looked at my phone to see that it read 23:55.

"I think it's time for me to leave now," I said getting up.

"Already?" He got up with me too and I looked at him.

The wind blew at that very instant, messing up his already tousled hair. If it was not Foster Wilson and I was not tipsy from the insane amount of beer I had had, I would have considered this moment a little intimate.

But this was Foster and I was drunk. That was the only logical explanation for me having all these thoughts.

"I promised my friend to meet her in the kitchen at midnight," I said and flashed my phone at him, informing him about the time.

"But the night's still young you know," he said sheepishly, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

"I...I have to also go out tomorrow, I have some job hunting to do," I said trying to get out of the situation by telling him about my plans.

"Oh, How do you plan on going?" He asked and we started moving towards the house.

"I will take the bus, I did check out the schedule earlier," I said taking deep breaths, attempting to calm my heart that was going wild inside my chest.

"I could take you," He said hopefully.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at him.

"Why are you doing this Foster?" I asked with an unsure smile on my face, trying to understand why he was making all possible attempts at staying near me.

He seemed a little taken aback by my question.

"I just wanted to help you, that bus ride takes double the time. I have a car and I am not really doing anything tomorrow."

I nodded my head and resumed walking towards the house.

Don't say yes Rachel.

"So...,"

No, ignore him, pretend you did not hear him.

"Are you up for tomorrow?"

Don't, just don't.

"Okay, fine."

Fuck.

Soooo....Thoughts??

Tell me how you guys are liking it so far (cue puppy-dog-eyes)

See you guys next Sunday!

(Oh, and do vote and comment, I love reading your comments!!)

Stay Safe<3