Page 55 of Written in Scent

Sophie lets out a happy squeal. “I’m at the Sigma house party. I only got here a little while ago. Come meet me! I will text you the exact address. You are going to have so much fun, I promise.”

I laugh tenderly at her enthusiasm. “OK. I’ll see you soon.”

I end the call and stare at my phone for a second.

I am really doing this.

I feed Noodle quickly, then stand in front of my closet. I have almost nothing that qualifies as party clothes, so I text Sophie asking if I can borrow something. Her reply is instant.

YES. The baby blue slinky dress in my closet would look amazing on you. Take whatever you want!

I pull the dress out and eye it warily. It’s shorter and tighter than anything I would normally wear. I slip it on anyway. No bra works with the cut, so I throw caution to the wind and go without. I add a little makeup, throw on a jacket and boots, crack the window open a little more for Noodle, and head out into the night.

The party is waiting.

And for once, I’m not going to overthink it.

The walk to the party is less busy than I expected. It’s not extremely late, so the campus paths are still mostly empty. Streetlights cast soft pools of yellow on the pavement, and the cool night air brushes against my legs beneath the short hem of the borrowed dress. I keep my jacket pulled close around me, suddenly very aware of how little fabric there is underneath.

I hear the party before I see it.

The low thump of bass and overlapping voices drift through the night long before the house comes into view. The sound grows louder with every step I take. My stomach flutters with nervous energy. I pull out my phone and text Sophie that I’ve arrived.

Her reply is immediate.

Come find me!! I'm near the kitchen.

I take a deep breath and walk up the steps into the house. The front door is wide open, music spilling out along with colored lights and the smell of beer and too many bodies.

As I step inside, a few beta girls near the entrance give me the side eye. Their gazes linger on me a second too long, flicking from my face down to the dress and back up again. I’m confused as to why. Do I look out of place? Is the dress too much? I tug my jacket a little tighter around myself and keep walking, trying to ignore the odd looks.

Sophie finds me almost immediately.

She pushes through a small group near the kitchen and pulls me into a tight hug, her familiar honey lavender scent wrapping around me. Then she pulls back and squeals, loud enough that a few heads turn.

“Oh my god, Elodie,” she says, eyes wide and sparkling. “You smell like Jamie! What happened? Tell me everything right now.”

My face burns instantly. I had completely forgotten that everyone would be able to smell him on me. Jamie’s warm golden amber scent is still clinging to my skin, my hair, the collar of my jacket. I blush so hard I feel it reach my ears.

Sophie laughs and waves a hand. “It’s OK. No one at the party will notice unless they get right up in your space. You’re fine.”

She links her arm through mine and tugs me deeper into the house before I can spiral. I brush the embarrassment off as best I can and let her lead me through the crowded rooms.

The music grows louder. The air is thick with laughter and the smell of spilled beer.

Sophie introduces me to a small group of people from her sociology class who are clustered near the kitchen. They seem friendly enough, smiling and nodding as she tells them my name. I smile back and try to keep up with the conversation, but my mind is still half elsewhere.

One of the girls hands me a cold bottle of beer. I accept it, grateful for something to hold. I hope the drink will help me relax after the past couple of days. The first sip is cold and bitter, but I take another anyway.

When I think about everything that has happened, I tilt the bottle back and chug the rest in several long swallows. The alcohol burns in my stomach.

No one seems to be paying me much attention, so I grab another bottle from the cooler and finish that one fairly quickly too.

Sophie laughs and pulls me onto the dance floor. “Come on, let loose a little!”

The music pulses through the room. At first I feel awkward, but the beer has started to work its way through my system.

A pleasant tipsiness eases in. I’m not drunk, not even close, but the edges of my anxiety soften. I let go of some of the tight control I usually hold onto and begin to move with the music.