Lost to You Read Online Free PDF Page B

my apartment. Dropping my backpack to the floor, I shed my button-up for a fitted black tee. In the bathroom, I wet my hands under warm water, splashed some on my face, and ran two hands through my hair to tame it. I straightened and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. A grin clung to my face, something I doubted I could dispel if I tried. I realized I felt good. Really good.
    Grabbing my keys, I headed out the door and jogged the two blocks to Sam’s place. I could hear the music pulsing as soon as I landed on his floor.
    With a single knock against the door, I let myself in. Bodies were cramped nearly wall to wall. It definitely wasn’t the smallest apartment I’d been in since I’d gotten to New York, there were just a lot of people. Some huddled in groups where they conversed along the walls. Others pressed and throbbed against each other as they moved in rhythm to the music on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room. More were piled on the two couches or sat on the floor.
    “You made it!” Tom yelled, a red cup lifted above his head as he shouldered through the crowd and cut a path to meet me. He reached out to welcome me with a fist bump.
    I met him when I first got into town. He was from here, had some connections and knew the area. He was cool, a decent guy, my passport to Friday night. He was the one who always knew where it was happening and where I wanted to be. Sam’s was often it.
    “Glad to be here.”
    Tom placed a hand on my shoulder and began to lead me back through the crowd.
    “Christian, good to see you finally showed up.” Jon gestured with his chin, clapped me on the back as I passed. “Where’ve you been all night?”
    I lifted both hands with a shrug, could feel the smirk splitting my face. “Studying.”
    “Ah...sure you were.” He laughed and went back to his beer and the girl hanging on his arm.
    There were quite a few people I recognized, these Friday nights becoming my regular, the same faces, the same welcome. I shook hands with a couple guys and hugged a few girls as Tom continued to shout in my ear about who was here and what had been happening.
    “Christian, my man.” Sam smiled as I approached. He slung his arm around my shoulders and maneuvered us around a group of people I’d never seen before. At the kitchen entrance, he stopped and waved inside. “There’s a keg and lots of ladies. Make yourself at home.”
    “Sure thing.” I always did.
    I grabbed a red cup, filled it until foam overflowed at the sides, and downed it in one breath. The beer was a little too warm as it glided down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from refilling my cup.
    I chatted with a couple people in the kitchen, drank a couple more beers, and refilled my cup again before I wove back out into the main room.
    Music pumped through the room, amplified the slight buzz I felt coming on as I sat down on the floor with my back propped up on the couch, my knees drawn up with my feet flat on the ground. This was the way I spent my Friday nights. One night a week, I allowed myself to forget it all, all the pressures my parents piled on me, the push to be the best, the drive to always work harder. For these few hours, I didn’t allow the words my father had drilled into me my entire life affect me. I just...forgot. Joked around with a few of the guys I’d kind of gotten to know. If I hooked up with some girl, that was always cool, too.
    I snorted at myself. Really, that was the goal. Hang out with the guys, go home with someone with the intention of just feeling good for a few hours.
    Sam and Tom stood on the other side of the coffee table, provoking each other, little jabs and shoves, the two so blitzed out neither could stand up straight. I knew what was coming. The two couldn’t seem to keep from making fools of themselves. I was always glad I remained on this side of the show, there to make fun of them for the stupid things they did. I wondered how many brain cells I lost