Blood and Biochemistry

Chapter 12

Evangeline

The party smelled like beer.

Not just beer. Beer, cheap vodka, cigarette smoke drifting in from the backyard, perfume, sweat, pizza that had been sitting out for several hours, and the distinct scent of poor decision-making.

The music was so loud I could feel the bass vibrating in my ribs before we even reached the front door.

Someone opened it before Chloe had a chance to knock.

“Oh!” a girl squealed. “You made it!”

Chloe laughed as she hugged her. “I told you I’d come.”

Before I could reconsider every decision that had led me here, Chloe grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside.

The house was packed. Every room held people. The hallway held people. Even the stairs held people. Someone appeared to be sitting on the kitchen counter while another person mixed drinks in a plastic storage container that definitely hadn’t been intended for beverages.

I blinked.

“...Is that a laundry basket?”

Chloe followed my gaze before nodding thoughtfully.

“Oh. I think it is.”

“They’re making drinks in it.”

“They’re making memories.”

“I’m almost positive they’re making poison.”

She looped her arm through mine.

“You worry too much.”

“I worry the correct amount.”

A guy stumbled past us carrying an entire crockpot. I watched him disappear into the dining room.

“...Why?”

“I’ve learned not to ask.”

The music somehow became louder. Someone screamed—not in fear, but excitement. At least I hoped so. A group near the stairs burst into laughter while someone else climbed onto the coffee table. Across the room, a guy wearing a Viking helmet saluted me with a slice of pizza.

Without thinking, I saluted back.

“This place is chaos.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It feels like a fire code violation.”

“It probably is.”

I glanced toward the front door.

Maybe fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes counted as trying.

I could survive fifteen minutes.

I lasted four.

“CHLOE!”

A chorus of voices erupted somewhere behind us.

My friend barely had time to turn before three different nursing students tackled her into a group hug.

“Oh my God!”

“You disappeared!”

“I had anatomy!”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“It literally is!”

Someone grabbed Chloe’s hand. Someone else shoved a red plastic cup into it while a third pointed toward the kitchen.

“There are people you have to meet.”

Chloe twisted around to look at me.

“You okay?”

I nodded.

“I’m fine.”

“You promise?”

“Mostly.”

“Evie.”

“I’ll survive.”

She frowned. “I’ll be right back.”

“I know.”

“You better still be here.”

“I’ll try.”

She pointed two fingers at her own eyes before pointing them at me.

“I’m watching you.”

“You literally won’t be.”

“Metaphorically.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd.

I stood there for a moment before wandering toward the wall nearest the living room, trying very hard to look like someone who belonged.

It was surprisingly difficult.

People talked in loud clusters, laughing over music that made conversation nearly impossible. Couples danced in spaces far too small for dancing. Two guys argued passionately over fantasy football while someone else attempted to balance six cups on one arm.

I checked my phone.

1:07.

Only twenty-two minutes?

That couldn’t be right.

Surely I’d been here longer.

“There you are.”

I looked up to find Chloe weaving through the crowd with two plastic cups filled with something violently pink.

She held one out to me.

“Drink.”

“I don’t really—”

“You’ve had one stressful week.”

“...Fair.”

I eyed the drink suspiciously.

“What is it?”

She blinked.

“I genuinely don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Someone called it jungle juice.”

“...That sounds illegal.”

“It might be.”

With a sigh, I took a cautious sip.

Instant regret.

It tasted like someone had melted gummy bears into fruit punch.

Half a second later, my throat caught fire.

I coughed into my hand.

“Oh my God.”

Chloe laughed.

“It gets better.”

“It burns.”

“That’s the alcohol.”

“Why would people do this voluntarily?”

“Give it another sip.”

“I don’t think that’s good advice.”

She bumped her cup against mine.

“Welcome to college.”

She disappeared again about fifteen minutes later.

Not intentionally.

Someone challenged her to beer pong. Another person dragged her toward the backyard. She mouthed sorry over someone’s shoulder before vanishing into the crowd again.

I waved to let her know it was okay.

It mostly was.

I stayed where I was, nursing the same cup, taking one small sip every few minutes. Eventually the sweetness stopped tasting like cough syrup, and the warmth spreading through my chest loosened the constant knot between my shoulders.

For the first time since moving to Ravenwood, I wasn’t thinking about assignments. Or tuition. Or grocery budgets. Or my next shift at the café.

I wasn’t exactly having fun.

But I wasn’t counting down the minutes anymore, either.

Maybe Chloe had been right.

Maybe I did need to leave my apartment once in a while.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked up.

The guy smiling at me was taller than I was, with sandy blond hair and a crooked grin that looked practiced. He gestured toward the empty chair beside mine.

“Oh.”

I glanced around.

There weren’t many open seats left.

“...Sure.”

He sat down and offered his hand.

“I’m Jasper.”

“Evie.”

“First year?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You’ve still got the orientation wristband.”

I looked down at my wrist.

“Oh.”

“I almost kept mine too.”

“You didn’t?”

“My roommate made fun of me.”

I smiled despite myself.

“What are you studying?”

“Biochemistry.”

He winced dramatically.

“Ouch.”

“I get that a lot.”

“I was a business major for exactly three weeks before switching.”

“Three weeks?”

“I discovered spreadsheets weren’t my calling.”

“What was?”

“I’m still figuring that out.”

I laughed.

Conversation came surprisingly easily.