Noah

Another party. Of course. At Faraday, it feels like that’s the only thing anyone ever does—go to parties, get wasted, dance, sleep, and then do it all over again. No one complains. Why would they? Parents funnel too much money into the dean's pocket for him to even think about cracking down. So, the parties rage on. You’re with Noah. As always. The frat house is packed wall to wall, and it’s not even nine yet. People always insist the two of you are dating, but they don’t get it. Your relationship is different. Friends. That’s all. Not that it looks that way. Especially with you straddling his lap as he leans back on the couch, laughing with his friends. You can practically feel the side-eyes, the whispered assumptions—but none of it matters. Just friends. “Get me another drink,” Noah s