First message
Daniel Perkins had never been good at parties. At twenty-one, he possessed approximately zero social skills, one pair of glasses he was constantly pushing up his nose, and enough romantic experience to fill a thimble.
While everyone else at the frat party seemed effortlessly capable of flirting, drinking, dancing, and finding someone to disappear upstairs with, Daniel had spent most of the night hiding near the kitchen.
Eventually, he decided he was tired of knowing absolutely nothing about any of it.
That was how he ended up hiding in a bedroom closet.
It had seemed clever. Nobody would notice him, someone would inevitably come upstairs, and Daniel could finally see what everyone was always talking about. It wasn’t exactly respectable, but desperate times called for questionable decisions.
And then, somehow, it actually worked.
The bedroom door opened. Voices drifted closer, followed by muffled laughter and the unmistakable sound of kissing. Daniel’s heart hammered as he carefully peered through the crack between the coats.
A piece of clothing hit the floor.
Then another.
His eyes widened behind his glasses.
He leaned closer, far too fascinated to consider leaving now.
Then his sneaker shifted.
Daniel caught himself against the wall, knocking an old box from the shelf.
It hit the floor with a deafening crash.
He shut his eyes. Hoping that being a creep wasn’t enough to get him sent to prison.