American Sweethearts

66

"Yes, bitch! Work it!" Lena calls, cheering me on as I shake my hips to the beat of the music. I swirl around the dancefloor, joining Steph as she sings along to the lyrics.

"Rack city, bitch, rack, rack, city bitch!" She calls. "Ten, ten, ten, twenty on yo titties, bitch!"

"What even is this song?" I laugh.

"It's iconic!" she responds.

"It's disgusting!"

"Shake that ass, bitch!" Lena interferes. She squats down, shaking her ass up in the air.

"Can you believe that's my girlfriend?" Steph laughs. "What a hoe!"

"You guys are insane," I shake my head.

"Alright, party pooper, go back to your boyfriend," she teases.

"Maybe I will," I joke.

I'm not even sure if Tyler is my boyfriend - officially. It feels like he is. But I've never said the word before, and neither has he. It is what I want, though.

I look around the room, searching for him. He's standing by the bar, chatting to a group of guys I haven't met before. Owen and Devon stand near them, busy in their own conversation.

Tyler glances up at me, meeting my eyes. He smiles, shooting me a wink. A blush rises to my cheeks. I wave at him in response. He holds his beer up and raises his eyebrows, silently asking me if I want another drink. I nod eagerly, but then glance back at the girls.

"I'll be back in a minute!" I yell over the music.

"I knew it!" Lena laughs. "You're going back to your man!"

"Can you blame me? He's buying me a drink!" I joke. I worm my way out of the dance floor, shuffling between the aggressively-moving bodies. Once I reach Tyler, I throw my arm around his waist, pulling him close to me.

"Hey, babe," he laughs, kissing my forehead. I dig my face into his chest, cozying up to him. He turns to the bartender, ordering me another strawberry daiquiri.

"You must be Sarah," one of the guys he's with says. He's a short man, but very muscular. I vaguely recognize him from one of the frat parties we went to.

"Hi," I smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Who would've thought Thompson would settle for a good girl?" he chuckles.

"Settle?" Tyler scoffs, handing me my drink. "You can't settle for your greatest achievement."

My stomach flips. He's a sweetheart. An actual sweetheart. I can't believe I used to think he was bad news. He's a cutie. I look up at him, a giant smile on my face. But his friend ruins the mood.

"You fuck yet?" he asks. Tyler instantly tenses up.

"Fuck off, bro," he spits. "That's not your business."

"I'm just saying, man... It's the best way to piss off Christian."

This time, it's my turn to tense up. Tyler must've noticed, because he throws his arm over my shoulder, tugging me closer to him.

"Fuck that asshole," he responds.

"Relax, man," his friend says. "I hate him as much as you do."

"You do?" I ask, my interest suddenly peaked. This could definitely help me in my quest to take him down.

"Yeah, the bitch fucked my sister."

"Do you know anything about his frat and the Virgin Mary thing they have going?"

"He made my sister Virgin Mary, while I was in the frat!" he shakes his head disapprovingly. "It's fucking sick. And it's not just his frat... some of the sororities are even in on it. It's like a fucking cult."

"Could you do me a favour?" I ask. "I'm trying to build a case against him."

"You are? The cops are helping?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to get statements from as many people as possible so they'll investigate."

"I'm in," he nods.

"Perfect," I grin. I quickly type my email address in his phone, telling him to email me with any information he has. While I'm at it, I pull out my own phone. I've been so distracted, I've barely had any time to check if I received any new responses. I open the inbox, only to be flooded with messages. 109 unread emails.

"Shit," Tyler mumbles, reading over my shoulders. "That's a fuck ton of emails."

I click on a few of them, checking what the say. Some are just simple one-liners, asking for more information, or wanting to talk in person. But others are long texts, sharing personal details of their experiences with the frat. I only glance them over. If I read them properly, I'll get sad or angry, and do something stupid.

This response is incredible. It's horrible. But it's just what I expected.

If I compile all these messages, I can convince Detective Monroe to dig deeper into what those boys are up to. Hell, even if I just show him this inbox, he'll have to do something.

"Will you make a statement, too?" I ask Tyler, looking back up at him. He hesitates for a brief moment, and I don't blame him. He doesn't exactly have a good record with the police.

"Yeah," he nods, pursing his lips. "I can do that. That son of a bitch should rot in hell."

I give him a grateful smile. This is actually working. I might be able to achieve this. I could shut the whole fraternity down. 'll have to look the emails over properly, but there's no way the police can ignore something as big as this. They've committed repeated bullying, harassment, and abuse. And they're going down for it.

"Hey, Sarah?" Tyler asks, bending down to whisper in my ear.

"Hmm?" I smile up at him.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Just what you gave me, why?" I scowl. This is only my third drink.

"You're a lot more confident than usual."

"Well..." I laugh. "You're a lot less angry than usual."

"That's because I'm happy," he smiles.

"Me too."

"You are?"

"Very happy."

We inch towards each other. The world around us slowly begins to fade. We're in our own little bubble, our eyes locked together. It feels like forever when our lips finally meet. But I pull away within a second.

"I want to go home," I say.

"Home?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Or do you want to stay?"

"Nope," he shakes his head. "Let's get out of here."

I quickly scull down the rest of my drink, but he just abandoned his bottle on the bars counter. He takes my hand and leads me out of the building. It's raining a little, so he pulls me close to him, sheltering me with his arm. We walk towards his car, and for once, I don't feel anxious getting in.

"I'm so happy," I gush, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

"You know what would make me happier?"

"What?" I pull the passenger side open. Before responding, Tyler picks me up, lifting me into the car. But he doesn't leave just yet. He leans into me.

"If I was your boyfriend," he smirks.