23
Shaun
It had been Krystal’s suggestion to find someplace my head would stop swirling with bullshit—and float in who-gives-a-s**t-land. Not even noon and I had a good buzz going, well on my way to forgetting the mass of muscle and tattoos I couldn’t get out of my mind.
A friend of a friend of a friend, or some such bullshit, was banging a frat boy president, and they had an all-day party going on. It seemed more an all-weekend long party that dragged on into the middle of the week, the stench of spilled, stale beer and empty bottles and red plastic cups littered the entire downstairs.
Music blasted, a handful of guys played beer pong, others shooting pool at two of the tables in the huge living space of the fraternity’s old mansion. A handful of people had passed out during the night
