First fic ever (first fic posted at least..). Do spare some mercy, though constructive criticism is always welcome.
Post 'A'. First year of college. Emily Fields x Santana Lopez.
"Damn it," she mutters to herself, this is her fifth time she's tried to call Aria. She really wants to leave. Not that she didn't like parties; it just wasn't her kind of party. She didn't know anyone; the music was terrible and way too loud; the house was too warm and too cramped. The girl tries to force her way through warm sweaty bodies vaguely moving to the beat to reach the door. She briefly wonders if she was the only one who's feeling the heat and the claustrophobia, because not a single other person seemed to mind.
"Emily!" a small voice from the befitting petite frame of her fellow swimmer, Lisa, managed to catch her attention despite the obnoxious music.
Ignore it. Ignore it.
Just before she reaches the front door, Lisa managed to make her catch and reel Emily back into the party. "You look… You... should have… a shot!" she slurs, tipping a shot glass between the brunettes lips before she could protest. Emily unwillingly swallowed, the unanticipated burn in her throat making her cough and gag a little. "Come on! Let's have fun!" linking her arm with Emily's, making sure her catch wouldn't make her escape. Any argument made by the taller girl of why she should leave was effectively drowned out by a flood of incoherent rebuttals. She couldn't exactly leave either way as she hitched a ride from Aria and her ride still won't answer her calls.
Lisa led her to join the rest of the swim team, all of whom greeted her cheerily. Somehow, it calmed her tenfold. Emily sort of loved the team, as they loved her. All being college-level swimmers, there was always something she shared with each girl; it could be how competitive they were, their preference of styles, or even just their love for the water. At the same time, Emily being the sweet and modest, yet the hardest working and most talented freshman, the seniors doted on her and her peers looked up to her. In addition, Emily loved the fact that the team was built on respect and dignity. There was no petty competition to prove who's better than who, though there may be a few exceptions here and there. Even so, they would learn eventually.
"Let's get this girl a drink!"
Ok fine. I mean… What can go wrong, right?
Within the next hour, the brunette has taken at least 10 shots, after which she danced with at least 5 different people, and kissed a random guy… or girl. The feeling was almost that of riding a roller coaster. Her heart was racing. She felt every pound from the speakers throughout her body, as if she was made of the beats. The room became blissful dazzle of colour and lights, a blur of laughter and music. What was around her was what she was. The swimmer finally felt like she was enjoying herself.
Till someone called.
Suddenly the whole room was silent, except for the sound of her ringtone. Instinctively, she reached for her phone in her back pocket. She met with skin, her own skin.
What…?
Emily's eyes were closed. She forces her heavy lids as open as she could. Sunlight pierced though the blinds and flooded the room. The walls were yellow, as were the drapes. She's now sure of one thing, the room was definitely not the living room from yesterday's party, neither was it dorm room. Not reassuring at all. She tries to make sense of her situation, racking her brain for some useful information. Instead of anything helpful, her brain pounded back at her, causing her to cringe where she was lying.
I'm on a bed?
Her phone rang again. She reached for the direction of the sound. Her phone was on the floor, thankfully within reach. It was Aria. She oriented her phone to answer-
"Can you please shut that off?" grumbled the groggy voice next to her.
Holy shit. What?!
Realization bitchslapped hard. She could almost feel the sting on her cheek. Emily was in someone else's bed with nothing on. The girl snaps up, turning to the direction of where the voice came from… She was in someone else's bed with nothing on with SOMEONE ELSE WHO ALSO HAS NOTHING ON.
Shit. Uhhh… Shit.
Holding the sheets to her chest, she stands up and stumbles around looking for her clothes. At least, whoever was next to her was facing away and covered her head with a pillow to block out Emily's phone. As soon as she realizes that she didn't have it in her to differentiate her clothes from those strewn all over the floor, she puts on the closest skirt to her, the hoodie hanging on the door, and what she hopes are her flats, and begins her escape: out the door, past a few other bedroom doors, she assumes, down the staircase, past the kitchen…
People. Oh shit.
"S, want some breakfast?" one of whoever they are asks.
She manages to spit out a "no thank you," before she finally makes it to the front door and makes a run for it.
P.S. Interesting note: Santana and Emily are in fact the same age - both born 1994
