Jimmy Hopkins UV

The bass from the speakers rattled the windows of the fraternity house, loud enough to make the cheap plastic cups on the kitchen counter tremble. Someone had strung red Christmas lights across the living room ceiling, and the place smelled like spilled beer, sweat, and whatever the hell someone had burned in the kitchen.

Jimmy Hopkins stood near the counter with his arms crossed, wearing a faded black T-shirt, dark jeans, and scuffed boots. At twenty-four, he'd figured out that college parties were essentially the same as high school parties, except the alcohol was more expensive and the people making terrible decisions were legally allowed to do so.

"Having fun?" Pete asked, appearing beside him with a red cup in hand.

Jimmy glanced at him. "Thrilling. I always wanted to spend my Friday night in a house full of idiots who think playing beer pong makes 'em interesting."

Pete snorted. "You agreed to come."

"Russell said there'd be free food."

Across the kitchen, Russell was currently attempting to determine whether an entire pizza could fit into his mouth at once. Johnny watched him with an expression of profound disappointment, his leather jacket hanging open over a dark shirt.

"There is free food," Johnny called over. "Unfortunately, Russell's eating most of it."

Russell swallowed and looked offended. "I am sharing."

"With yourself," Johnny replied.

"Shut up, Johnny."

Jimmy's mouth twitched into a grin. This was more or less why he'd agreed to come. He could tolerate a room full of strangers if his own people were there to make fun of them with him.

Zoe appeared from the living room, weaving around a couple who were dancing badly enough to constitute a public safety hazard. She had a drink in one hand and an amused expression on her face.

"You guys look miserable."

"We're standing in a kitchen," Jimmy said. "There's a difference."

"You're standing in a kitchen at a party."

"Exactly. Terrible planning."

Zoe rolled her eyes and nudged his arm. "Come on. There's a pool table downstairs."

"Now you're talking."

Pete looked between them. "Since when do you two play pool together?"

"Since we discovered it's more entertaining than listening to you explain the rules of a game nobody asked you about," Zoe replied.

"I was explaining the strategy."

"You explained it for twenty minutes."

"And you still lost," Jimmy added.

Pete stared at him. "You weren't even there."

"Didn't need to be."

Johnny barked out a laugh, and even Zoe couldn't hold back her grin. Pete muttered something about ungrateful friends before following them toward the basement.

The downstairs room was marginally less crowded, though someone had dragged a couch directly in front of the pool table, and a group of fraternity brothers were arguing over the rules. Jimmy took one look at the arrangement and shook his head.

"Move the damn couch."

One of the brothers turned toward him. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a fraternity shirt stretched tightly across his chest. "We're using it."

"Yeah? And we're using the table."

"There's another one upstairs."

"Then go use it."

The guy looked Jimmy up and down, evidently trying to decide whether the stranger in the faded shirt was worth confronting. Jimmy stared back, utterly unimpressed. He wasn't puffing himself up or squaring his shoulders. He simply looked like someone who had no intention of repeating himself.

Johnny leaned against the doorframe behind him, watching with an entertained smirk. Russell stood beside him, still chewing pizza.

"Move the couch," Russell helpfully repeated.

The fraternity brother glanced at Russell.

Then he looked at Jimmy again.

"Whatever, man."

He and his friends dragged the couch aside, grumbling all the way. Jimmy picked up a pool cue as if nothing had happened.

"See?" Zoe said. "You can be sociable."

"That was me being sociable."

"God help us when you're rude."

They played for the next half hour, with Jimmy winning two games, Zoe winning one, and Pete insisting that the table was uneven. Russell kept trying to offer advice despite barely understanding the rules, while Johnny leaned against the wall and made increasingly unhelpful commentary.

By the time they returned upstairs, the party had grown louder. Someone had taken control of the music, replacing the playlist with a string of songs nobody seemed to recognize. A fraternity brother was standing on a chair, delivering what he apparently believed was an inspiring speech about brotherhood, while two girls near the staircase openly debated whether he was drunk or simply like that.

Jimmy stopped to watch.

"Five bucks says he falls," he said.

Pete followed his gaze. "Jimmy."

"Ten seconds."

"Don't encourage him."

The guy raised his cup dramatically. "WE ARE THE FUTURE OF THIS UNIVERSITY!"

The chair tipped.

Russell caught it before the guy could fall, setting all four legs firmly on the floor. The room erupted in laughter, and the would-be speaker climbed down with what little dignity he had left.

Jimmy sighed and reached into his pocket.

"Guess I'm keeping my money."

"You didn't bet anyone," Zoe pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I can't win."

For a while, the five of them settled into a corner of the living room, away from the worst of the noise. Johnny had found someone willing to argue about motorcycles with him, Russell was working through another plate of food, and Pete had started explaining a conspiracy theory about the university's student government that Jimmy suspected was only half a joke.

Zoe sat beside Jimmy on the arm of the couch, occasionally stealing his drink just to irritate him.

"You know," she said, leaning closer so he could hear her over the music, "you don't look like you're having a terrible time anymore."

Jimmy glanced around the room. Pete was gesturing wildly with both hands. Russell had somehow acquired a second plate. Johnny was laughing at something across the room.

"Don't spread that around," he said. "I've got a reputation."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She bumped her shoulder against his. He returned the gesture, a faint smirk settling across his face.

For all his complaints, Jimmy wasn't in a hurry to leave. Nobody was demanding that he fix anything, nobody was trying to make him responsible for an entire school, and nobody at the party knew enough about his past to expect him to be anything other than another college student spending his Friday night with his friends.

Then Pete leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he watched a fraternity brother approach their corner.

"Jimmy."

"What?"

"That guy's been looking at you for the last five minutes."

Jimmy followed his gaze. The guy lifted his cup in a mock salute.

Jimmy raised two fingers in return, his expression flat.

"Congratulations," Zoe said. "You've made a friend."

"Yeah. I'll put it on my résumé."

Johnny returned just in time to hear that. "What position are you applying for? Professional asshole?"

"Already overqualified."

Russell laughed so loudly that several people turned to look.

Jimmy shook his head, took another drink, and settled back into the couch. The party was still obnoxious, the music was still too loud, and he was still surrounded by idiots.

But they were his idiots.

And, for once, that was more than enough.