Free The Anti Social Network by Sadie Hayes

of the world as he took in the filthy kitchen, strewn with beer cans and red cups. A couple was making out against the wall in the corner. No one seemed to notice, or to care. “I’m Adam,” he said as he took a sip of the beer.
    “Nice to meet you Aidan!” She batted her eyelashes, but the concentration it required caused her to trip on her massive heels. Adam put his arm out to catch her. “Oops!” she giggled. She leaned down and took off her shoes, apparently unconcerned about placing her bare feet on the sticky, beer-drenched floor.
    “Do you want to dance?” she asked, pulling his hand toward the fraternity’s common room, where speakers were blasting a Lady Gaga remix.
    Adam closed his eyes, letting his body sway with the music in careless abandon, as they moved against each other on the dance floor. He felt her open mouth press against his and let it happen, sinking into the sensation.
    Then, as if the signal of what was going on finally reached his brain, he pulled away. “I can’t … ”
    “Sure you can.”
    “No, it’s not … I have a girlfriend.”
    “Oh.” The girl pouted and dipped her chin, her brown curls falling in front of her face. “Wait,” she said, her head abruptly popping back up. She glanced around the dance floor. “Is she here?”
    “No.”
    The girl put her hand back on his shoulder. “Then what’s the problem?” she asked, leaning in to kiss him.
    He pushed her away gently. “Well … I love her.” Her red lips spread into a sideways grin and she cocked her head.
    “Awww … that’s so cute. She’s a very lucky girl.” She turned and walked away, her full hips swinging back and forth in her tight red dress as she headed to the kitchen to find someone else to flirt with.
    Adam stood in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by couples making out or on the verge of it. He felt unbelievably alone. Where was Lisa? He knew she had a dorm meeting and a study group, but that should have been over hours ago.
    Suddenly, he panicked. What if she was hanging out with that water polo player that lived next door, that guy with the perfectly toned body and the shaggy blond hair?
    He should call her, he decided.
    He dialed her number, but there was no answer. Maybe she didn’t hear the phone ring. He tried again. Still no answer. This time he left a message, trying his hardest to sound more sober than he was, “Lisa, it’s me. Just thinking about you and missing you. Call me.” He waited until the next song was over, and then tried again. Then one more time. Still no answer. What was going on? Where was she?
    Maybe she was online. He should go log on to his computer and check.
    He stumbled down the stairs to his room. Like all the rooms in the Phi Delta house, his was a two-room double, meaning two guys shared two rooms, but there was only one door in and out. This meant there was an “inner” room and an “outer” room. The outer room was a little bigger, but you had to deal with your roommate walking in and out to get to his room.
    Adam’s roommate, Henry, didn’t have any qualms about people walking in and out on him when he was hooking up with girls, so he’d requested the bigger outer room, and Adam had happily obliged, opting for privacy.
    Now he pushed open the room and found Henry sitting on his bed with three girls, all giggling and passing a pipe. The room reeked of pot.
    “Adam!” Henry exclaimed, so high he could hardly open his eyes.
    Henry was English and milked his Britishness for all it was worth. He wasn’t bad looking, but he wasn’t model-attractive like T. J. or Chris, the Phi Delta social chair. His thick British accent was a golden ticket for getting women, however. Sometimes Adam wondered whether the words he used, like “chap” and “bloody” and “wicked,” were even words British people used or just things he threw in to get attention.
    “Adam, meet … ” Henry looked around and realized he didn’t know any of the girls’