Breaking Rule Number Two

They'd just gotten back from summer break two weeks ago and people were still refreshed and tan. There was a buzz in the air, especially as the drinks got passed around as fast as the summer tales were.

Someone almost lost their arm to a shark, another went to Paris and fell in love with a french guy, someone else found out they had a step-sister they didn't know about. However, with each passing hour, words got slower and everyone forgot the tiny details of their summer vacation.

No matter how much Lorelei drank she couldn't forget her summer. She didn't think she ever could, no matter how hard she tried–and she'd been trying every day since school started.

"Are you good?" A guy in front of her asks. He'd been rambling about how he'd gotten stung by a bee and found out he was allergic and almost died in the hospital, yet just like everything else lately, Lorelei couldn't find it in her to care.

"Yeah, actually, I think my roommate is waving me over," she says over the terrible trap music someone just turned up. "I'll see–" she didn't even finish her sentence. She was already out of earshot, making her way through the crowd of people, away from the third guy of the night who tried to have a conversation with her.

And that's why Lorelei Martin was painfully single.

She was tired of giving all these nasty frogs kisses only for them to turn out to be monsters. So she stopped giving any of them a chance and decided being alone was better than being hurt because she was really tired of hurting.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, a face she still saw in her nightmares found her from across the room.

For a breath-catching minute, she thought her mind was playing tricks. She'd done such a good job at avoiding him... that couldn't really be him, right? She was intoxicated, her mind was playing games.

He steps forward and panic makes her breath hitch. He's not a flash of a memory or a blur of a face. He's real. And he's here.

The alcohol she consumed threatens to reemerge and she nearly trips over her own two feet as she spins in the opposite direction. She quickly pulls out her phone to type, "I'm heading home," to the top contact on her list.

It only takes two seconds for a response.

"U good?"

Tears sting Lorelei's eyes and she swallows down the lump in her throat. She knew she'd eventually run into him. They were in two different social circles and the school was large enough that it wasn't terribly hard not to come in contact, but she thought she was prepared for it. She thought she could handle it.

In truth, she didn't think any amount of time could prepare her to see his face, to see him in person, not after what he did.

She glances back to see if he's following when she runs into something hard. Her drink goes flying, her head snapping back, and she was flailing–unable to catch herself. While bracing for impact sturdy hands reach out and ground her, pulling her back from her terrible fate with the frat house's sticky flooring.

"I'm so sorry–" a male voice says before cutting off.

Lorelei regains focus, her eyes falling directly on Charlie Harrison.

Charlie fucking Harrison. Forward center for the college's hockey team. A god to half the people on campus. Attending school with a full academic scholarship. The very last person she wanted to see at that moment.

Please, this is not the time.

Lorelei straightens, shrugging off his hands and stepping back. "I'm sorry I didn't see you." She glances down at her now empty solo cup and then at her clothes. Beer soaked her shirt, the smell of yeast already making its way to her nose.