The Morning After the Party

CHAPTER 5

Eleanor's POV

Sleep . That was exactly what I needed. The moment I got back to the dorm after the party, I barely remembered taking off my shoes before collapsing onto my bed. My head was spinning. My thoughts were worse. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those brown eyes again. That stupid stranger. That stupid feeling.

That stupid moment when our bodies had collided. I didn't understand why I couldn't get him out of my head. So I did the only thing I could think of. I slept. If I was unconscious, at least I couldn't think about him. My alarm started ringing at exactly 6:30 a.m.

I groaned. "No." I reached blindly across the bed, trying to find my phone. The alarm continued screaming. "Please…" I finally found it and slapped the screen. Silence. I opened my eyes. The first thing I noticed was the pounding inside my head.

"Oh, my God." I pressed my palm against my forehead. What had I been thinking? I slowly sat up, immediately regretting the decision. My head throbbed harder. The room was quiet. Too quiet. I looked toward the other bed.

Empty. I blinked. Then I remembered Amaya. My eyes widened. "Wait." I looked at the clock. 6:32 a.m. I stared at the empty bed. "No way." A smile slowly spread across my face.

"Did Amaya really get hooked up on the first night of college?" I shook my head. "She's so Amaya." I laughed softly before immediately grabbing my head again. "Ow." Even laughing hurt.

I leaned against the headboard. Then the memories from last night came rushing back. The party. The music. The drinks. And him. My smile disappeared. "Oh, no." I closed my eyes.

Frat stranger. That was what I was calling him. Because apparently, I didn't know anything else about him. I didn't know his name. I didn't know his major. I didn't know what year he was in.

I didn't even know whether he actually belonged to the fraternity or just looked like he did. All I knew was that he'd spilled his drink on me, apologized, and walked away like I didn't exist.

And somehow, I had spent most of the night thinking about him. I groaned. "I am so pathetic." I had spent my entire evening drinking just to stop thinking about some random guy.

A guy whose name I didn't even know. That was embarrassing. I looked toward the empty bed again. At least Amaya had managed to have a good night.

I was still trying to understand why one stupid encounter had affected me so much. There was something about him. Something I couldn't explain. The moment we'd bumped into each other, I'd felt this strange rush through my entire body.

My skin had become hot. My heart had started racing. And there had been this bizarre sense that I knew him. But I didn't. I couldn't. He was a complete stranger.

"Eleanor?" I nearly jumped out of bed. The door opened. Amaya walked inside carrying a small bag in one hand and a plate of food in the other. Her hair was slightly messy. She looked exhausted.

But she was smiling. I stared at her. "Where have you been?" She held up the bag. "Saving your life." Then she held up the plate. "And feeding you."

I sat up straighter. "Amaya…" She placed everything on my desk. "Hangover pills and Chinese food." I looked at her like she'd just performed a miracle. "I love you so much."

She laughed. "I knew you'd need it." I reached for the food immediately. "You are officially my favorite person." "I'm your only best friend." "Exactly." She rolled her eyes.

I opened the container and immediately started eating. The food tasted incredible. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. Amaya sat on her bed and watched me. "Slow down."

"I can't." "You look like you haven't eaten in three days." "I feel like I haven't." She laughed. For a few minutes, neither of us said anything. I concentrated entirely on the food.

Then Amaya suddenly smiled. "So…" I looked up. "So what?" "How was your night?" I swallowed. "Interesting." She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting?"

"Yeah." "That's it?" I shrugged. "Something happened." Her eyes immediately widened. "Tell me." I laughed. "You're too nosy."

"And you're too secretive." I sighed. "Fine." I placed my fork down. "There was this guy." Amaya's expression changed instantly. "A guy?"

"Yes." "At the party?" "Obviously." She leaned forward. "What happened?" I told her about bumping into him. The spilled drink. His apology. The way he walked away.

Amaya stared at me. "Wait." "What?" "He spilled his drink on you and just walked away?" "Exactly." "Rude." "Very." She shook her head.

"Did you at least get his name?" I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I slowly closed it. Amaya stared at me. I stared back. Then it hit me. "No."

Her eyebrows rose. "You don't know his name?" "No." "You didn't ask?" "No." She burst out laughing. "You're hopeless." "I know!"

I dropped my head onto my hand. "That's why I'm calling him Frat Stranger." "Frat Stranger?" "Yes." "Creative." "I know." She laughed.

"So what was so special about Frat Stranger?" I hesitated. I didn't know how to explain it. "I don't know." "Was he cute?" "Yes." "Hot?"

I looked at her. "Unfortunately." She laughed. "Okay, so what's the problem?" "I felt weird around him." "Weird how?" I stared at my food. "I can't explain it."

I remembered that strange rush again. "It was like…" I paused. "Like I'd met him before." Amaya's smile faded slightly. "Had you?" "No." "Then maybe you were just attracted to him."

"Maybe." But I didn't believe that. Something about the whole thing had felt different. I just didn't know why. Amaya shrugged. "Maybe you'll see him again."

I shook my head. "Why would I?" "College is huge, but not that huge." I smiled. "Whatever." I finished eating, took the hangover pill, and headed for the shower.

By the time I came out, I felt slightly better. I checked the time. My eyes widened. "Oh, no." Amaya looked up. "What?" "I'm late." "For what?" "Economics!"

I rushed toward my wardrobe. There was no time to think about outfits. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a hoodie. My hair went into a simple ponytail. I shoved my notebook into my bag.

"Bye!" Amaya laughed. "You're forgetting something." "What?" She pointed toward my shoes. I looked down. I was barefoot. "Right." I quickly slipped them on.

"Now bye!" I hurried out. The morning passed in a blur. I made it to Economics just before the professor started. I slipped into a seat, opened my notebook, and tried to focus.

Tried. Because somehow, despite the lecture, the notes, and the professor's voice, my mind kept wandering. Back to the party. Back to those brown eyes. Back to that strange feeling.

I forced myself to concentrate. Forget him. I wrote down the next point. He's nobody. Another point. You don't even know his name.

I nodded to myself. Exactly. So why was I still thinking about him? By lunchtime, I had almost convinced myself that I was being ridiculous. Almost.

Then I walked into the cafeteria. And across the room, I saw a familiar pair of brown eyes. My steps stopped. My heart suddenly jumped.

Frat Stranger. He was here. And this time, I wasn't drunk.