The team house was not close to the stadium. It was situated in the dead center of the college, right between the sorority houses and other frat houses, on top of the only hill in the area, looking at the other student residences from its lofty position.

A location that was far too poetic to be accidental.

It was a large building, though wider than tall, constructed in the finest tradition of late nineteenth-century American architecture despite dating to the mid-sixties --- a poor attempt to copy the aura of the older, more established universities.

But like everything in Sunset college, that only highlighted its gauche fakeness. The team house was the perfect example. What was imagined as a quiet, proud place to reflect dignity through its location on the hill was marred with an endless number of flags, ugly, poorly-drawn graffiti, and other blinding features. Disgustingly bright colors, and pointless words filled the walls hardly helped.

Though, ultimately, the poor decoration didn’t matter, not when the courtyard filled with a horde of people going in and out, competing for attention in colors, style, or the amount of flesh that could be revealed without being actively qualified to be pornographic.

Naturally, I didn’t have a problem with the state of the people, especially the way it pertained to the female half. Or two-thirds, if I were to be accurate, as it was clearly a female-majority event.

Considering the reputation of their parties, it would be overly optimistic to claim feminism as the driving factor for the gender imbalance.

From the uncaring glance of Megan, it was clear that she didn’t care about the mess as well, though she dressed much more high-class manner, easily separating herself from the other girls chasing the cheap thrills of bagging of a football player for a night.

What an interesting girl.

Unfortunately, our lack of care wasn’t shared by the other passenger of our journey. “W-what is going on here?” my guide stammered in shock as she looked at the crowd, where some girls were already in their underwear, diving into the large pool --- which must be a heated one, because it was too cold to do so otherwise. The garden was also decorated with an impressive number of open-air heaters, keeping the garden warm at the cost of an explosive electricity bill.

Luckily, Megan was carefully examining the crowd, her expression getting tighter with every player from the offense, but still searching for a particular one, while the music was loud enough to suppress my whisper, so I answered her under my breath, hoping she would be able to hear it despite the music.

“That’s the tradition, I’m afraid,” I whispered to my guide, who was watching the event with shock. “But it shouldn’t be the first time you’re seeing a naughty party, not if even the half of the things I had read about Dionysus was true,” I said.

“Why would you say that guy's name!” she shouted, her power radiating once more. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the annoyance she had displayed when I mentioned Zeus, or the confusion when she tried to remember her own name.

It was pure, adulterated, terror.

“Sorry,” I muttered, surprised by her reaction. Why the hell a god of alcohol and parties would evoke such a raw terror in her where the reference to Zeus only created annoyance.

“I won’t come inside, call me when your party finishes,” she said, and disappeared.

It was nice to learn that she could actually disappear rather than always hanging in the background, though I wished that didn’t leave another big question behind. Not to mention, I had no idea how to call her back.

Unfortunately, the other person I had been sharing the car with spoke. “Did you say something?” Megan asked, her gaze still exploring the building.

I was about to give her an excuse, when I noticed a figure trying to bury himself into the pool, three girls around him. “Check the pool, you might see something interesting,” I said even as my eyes met with Kevin, whose eyes widened in shock at being caught. Though, the shock wasn’t alone, as my presence in her girlfriend’s car clearly brought out quite a bit of anger as well. Too bad he had no chance of actually using that anger.

Not when Megan caught his gaze to give him a wave, though her expression was enough to freeze the heated pool he was in.

Damn, I thought. Being caught was bad, but being caught between three girls in their underwear, swimming in a pool after losing her car on a bet...

Before I could enjoy his misfortune, Megan’s gaze turned to me, still icy. If I hadn’t already realized she wasn’t one of the boring sorority girls, that moment would have been all the evidence I needed.

She didn’t scare me, but it would be a lie if I said I didn’t have goosebumps for a moment. And considering the way I grew up, that was a serious achievement. “You’re going to be my boyfriend for the night, or else...”

“It would be an honor, Your Highness,” I said mockingly, but I still left the car to open her car door. The situation was far too amusing to watch from a distance, not to mention, walking inside with the girlfriend of the quarterback was just the kind of thing that would create a spectacle.

Exactly the amusement I needed, with the stress of the unknown looming over me.

As we stepped out of the car, almost no one --- with the great exception of Kevin, flailing in water as he tried to cut through the other people to get out --- paid any attention to us, which didn’t change much when I walked toward the other side of the car.

For the people at the party, I was nothing more than one of the hangers-on arrived here to get some attention. The car I arrived at was beautiful, of course, but hardly the flashiest one between the veritable gallery that filled the field.

However, the silence rippled through the crowd once I opened the driver-side door, and Megan stepped out with all her glory. It wasn’t instant, like a movie. It was a couple nearest to us at first, desperately poking their friend to make her a witness as well. Two turned to three, which turned to five, then ten.

And I used the moment to finally give a good look at her body as she stood next to me. After all, I was going to play her boyfriend for the night.

She was a spectacular beauty. On that, there was no doubt. Her lithe body was a touch thinner than my general preference when it came to fun times, but luckily, her hips were wide enough to compensate for her natural deficiency --- no doubt cured through endless hours in the gym.

If there was one thing social media was good for, it was to repopularize the value of a nice booty.

Her breasts weren’t big enough to be classified as large, but still big enough to keep one’s hands full once grabbed --- too bad I wasn’t her real boyfriend, making it unfeasible to assess their softness.

Her body was beautiful, definitely top-notch, but the real impact came from the clothes she had picked. Killer, thigh-high boots to display her stunning legs, a short, stylish skirt --- but not too short to be classified as whorish --- and a nice blouse with a tasteful cleavage, maximizing the impact of her modest bosom.

Combined with her flowing blonde hair, beautiful face, and haughty expression, there was no doubt she was one of the most striking beauties at the school.

I could certainly do worse for a fake girlfriend, even without what her position represented.

Like any exponential growth, the silence grew wildly, taking less than thirty seconds to cover the whole courtyard. Even the music was suddenly lowered, proving that the DJ had the perfect instincts.

But that was nothing compared to Megan’s sense of timing. Only when everyone turned to us, she spoke. “I’m having a bit of trouble with these heels, sweetie,” she gasped. “Do you mind helping me walk?” she said in a cute voice that wouldn’t be amiss to a stupid blonde character in a sitcom.

“Not at all, honey,” I said as I presented my arm, unable to prevent a chuckle from escaping, amused by the coldness she had in the car compared to the fake silly cheerfulness. Maybe that was why Kevin thought he could just use her car without an issue.

And I didn’t need to receive her icy-cold glare to remember that she was not a pack of sweets. I winked at her before presenting my arm. She hooked, and I received her painful pinch in good humor.

She was the one that took the first step, and I just followed her pacing, trusting her ability to measure the senses of the crowd successfully. She fulfilled my expectations perfectly as she led us directly to the most crowded part, people splitting around us, their enthusiastic expression telling that they were ready for the drama.

As I watched Kevin stumble forward, hastily trying to put on a bathrobe, I could see that fun was about to begin.