I stretched out on the couch with my hands behind my head, and just as I closed my eyes, something smacked me in the forehead and landed on my chest.
“Mail call,” Brad said, continuing down the hall.
I picked up the Pepto pink envelope with my stepmother’s loopy handwriting on the front. I ripped it open and glitter cascaded out of the envelope, coating my shirt. I brushed it off, but that shit was stuck on. I flipped over the invitation to find more glitter and princesses and unicorns and pink. Lots and lots of pink. Was that what five-year-old girls were into?
If you paid any attention to your sister, you’d know.
I scrubbed my hand over my face. Mackenzie—the little twerp—actually wasn’t half bad as far as kids went. I guess. I didn’t have much experience with them. And it wasn’t her fault that she was the spawn of my dickhead father.
Fuck. I was going to have to go home for that party. A problem for another day. Not going to worry about it now.
I grabbed my guitar and played a few chords, adjusting the knobs until it was tuned perfectly. Then I closed my bedroom door and strapped a capo on the second fret.
I experimented with a few chords, then shook my head. Something was off. I’d had this song in my head for weeks now, and I’d tried countless variations of it already, but none of them were right. It was driving me crazy.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Yeah?” I called.
“It’s Cori.”
“Come in.”
She opened the door but didn’t enter, instead leaning on the doorframe. “Hey,” she said.
“What’s up, beautiful?”
“I’m waiting for Luke, but I haven’t seen much of you lately, so I thought I’d stop in.” She nodded toward the guitar. “What were you playing?”
“Nothing,” I said, setting the guitar aside. “I was just screwing around.”
“I liked it.”
“Thanks.” I paused, staring at her hovering there. “Are you going to come in or just stand in the doorway?”
She grinned and sat on the couch. “I didn’t want to interrupt you if you were studying.” Her tone was joking, and for a split second, it felt like I had been punched in the gut. Her comment bothered me.
But what did I expect? I’d built a reputation of being a slacker. And truth be told, I wasn’t studying, even though I was supposed to be.
“I was actually just taking a break.”
“I almost forgot!” She jumped up and pulled a folded blue paper out of her back pocket. “Look. They’re having open mic nights at Thirsties.”
I shook my head. I knew where this was headed, and the answer was no.
“Soooo…I was thinking. You should do it.”
“Nope.”
She frowned. “Come on, Josh. Why not? You’re really good.”
“Let me see the flier.” She handed it to me, and I scanned it quickly. Yup, just what I thought. “The songs have to be original.”
“So?”
“It’s just like I said. Not gonna happen.”
“But why not?” she pressed. If I didn’t like her so much, I’d be more than just the slightly annoyed that I currently was.
“I don’t have original songs.”
She blinked and cocked her head. “Yes, you do. What was that you were just playing? And I’ve heard other things before.”
“Well, aren’t you a little spy?” I teased.
“These walls are paper thin, Josh. It’s nearly impossible to have a secret in this house.”
I smirked and wriggled my eyebrows at her. “Don’t I know it.”
She blushed but wasn’t deterred. “Will you at least think about it?”
“Sure,” I said, shoving the flier in with the rest of the papers strewn about the table.
Her gaze fell on a syllabus and she picked it up. “Ooh…Civil War and Reconstruction.” Her eyes gleamed. “I heard this class is fabulous. How is it?”
Restful. That man’s voice could cure insomnia. If I could get through the first ten minutes or so, I’d get hooked by the content, but those first ten minutes were killer.
“The professor definitely knows his stuff. But his delivery is a little…dry.”
She laughed. “How did you think it was going to be?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a product of my generation.” Isn’t that what adults were always saying? We Millennials had the attention span of a gnat with ADD.
It was all about the instant gratification. And yeah, I totally got that. I wasn’t gonna lie. But what was so wrong with it? I’d heard the old saying “Good things come to those who wait,” but only an idiot waited for something when he could get it right now.
Work smarter, not harder. That was my motto, anyway. Of course, I hadn’t been doing much work—either smart or hard—recently, which was how I’d ended up on academic probation.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. God, when did I become such a fuck-up? Maybe my dad was right. Maybe I wasn’t worth a damn. He’d surely let me know when I went home for that party.
“Is everything okay, Josh?” Cori placed her hand on my arm. “You seem stressed out.”
“I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. If I were smart, I would ask for her help. Cori had bailed me out last semester when I was about to bomb a huge test in Intro to Women’s Studies—don’t even ask why I took that class—and she was a straight A student. If anyone could help me, it was her.
But then I’d have to admit to her how much I’d screwed up. I didn’t care what most people thought of me, but I respected Cori, and her opinion mattered to me.
And I wasn’t stupid. This situation had gotten to me more than I’d realized. It wasn’t like me to wallow in self-pity. Yeah, I’d fucked up, but I wasn’t a fuck-up. I’d always been able to do anything I put my mind to. There just hadn’t been many things I’d found worth my energy.
But that changed, starting now. I was gonna do whatever it took to pass those damn tests, even if it meant color coding or making flash cards. But I’d light fire to my Epiphone before I’d let Brianna know I’d succumbed to her methods.
Chapter Seven
Bri
I clutched the crookedly printed flier in my hand, scared of what it meant. What made me even more petrified was Josh’s grin.
Then he said the words that shook me to my core.
“I passed the tests.”
“No,” I whispered, placing the flier flat on my desk and running my palms over it, smoothing out the wrinkles.
“B minus¸ B, and A minus. You can check in the grade portal if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” I said. “But, you know, a B minus isn’t a B.”
“Bullshit.” He tapped on the flier. “You’re not getting out of this.”
I was grasping at straws, and I knew it. As his academic counselor, I should be overjoyed that he did so well. He was definitely making progress. But as a twenty-two-year-old grad student who had never attended a frat party, I was shaking in my black leather pumps.
It was time to face the facts. As much as it pained me to admit it, Josh didn’t need my help—not really. He just needed the proper motivation. And it seemed I had given it to him. So I guess I’d played some part in his success.
He stood. “Don’t be late.” He flashed one last grin, then left the cubicle.
“Josh, wait!” I called, and he stuck his head back in my cube. “Do I need to, um, bring anything?”
The edges of his mouth quirked up, like he was trying not to laugh at me. “Your party hat.” Then he left for good this time.
It was difficult staying focused on my meetings the rest of the morning, and impossible to focus in my afternoon class. My phone was at my ear before I was even out of the classroom.
“Casey,” I said when she finally picked up, “I need your help.”
“What’s up?” she asked, the noise of
the grocery store where she worked part-time buzzing in the background. She wasn’t supposed to take calls on the job, but she always did. Turnover was high in a college town like ours, and she reasoned they wouldn’t fire her since she’d been there five years straight. If they did fire her, no big loss. She worked more out of habit than need for money, since she had an assistantship.
I took a deep breath. “I have to go to a fraternity party tomorrow night.”
“Ooh, fun!” At my silence, she questioned, “Not fun?”
“Most decidedly not fun.”
She sighed on the other end. “Paper or plastic?” she said in a muffled tone.
I waited while she started ringing up a customer. “You know,” she said. “This might be good for you. I still can’t believe you’ve never been to a frat party. It’s like a rite of passage or something.”
I leaned against the cinder block wall, not wanting to take this conversation outside into the light snowfall.
“Wait,” Casey said, like it suddenly occurred to her. “Why do you have to go to a frat party? What am I missing here?”
I filled her in on my wager with Josh, and she laughed. Actually laughed at me. “I think I like this guy,” she said.
“Casey, he’s impossible. And an undergrad. And my client.”
A hot client, but a client nonetheless. I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks, and I had to remind myself that Casey couldn’t hear my thoughts.
But so what if I thought Josh was hot? It was hard to ignore with the way his hair draped over his forehead and his eyes danced when he smiled. And his easygoing personality was kind of endearing. That didn’t mean I was going to do anything about these thoughts. It wasn’t even like this was my personal opinion. More like an acknowledgment of facts.
That was all it was.
“So, don’t go,” Casey said.
I bit my lip. The thought of breaking my word honestly hadn’t occurred to me. When I said I would do something, I did it. But how easy would it be to play hooky from the party? The flu was going around like crazy. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that I could get sick in the next thirty-six hours.
But that just felt wrong—even more wrong than making the stupid bet in the first place. No, I’d made this bed of thorns, and I was going to lie in it.
“I can’t not go. I promised.”
“So what do you need from me?”
I ran my finger along the grooves between the cinder blocks along the wall. “Dress me, for starters. I’m old. I don’t want to look out of place.”
She laughed. “You’re not old! There are seniors older than you.”
“Still, though, I won’t fit in.”
“Bri, you’re being ridiculous. Hang on.” She must have put her hand over the mouthpiece because everything became muffled. “I’ve got to go,” she said when she came back on. “The new manager is coming in soon, and he’s a real a-hole. I mean, seriously, I’ve worked here longer than he has. I should just quit this stupid job.”
I agreed with her and hung up, but not before making her promise she’d come over tomorrow night to help me get ready.
…
I had no trouble finding Josh’s fraternity house, even though I’d never been there before. Following the other cars and the noise did the trick.
I was worried I’d be too early—the flier said ten—and I didn’t want to be the loser who showed up before the party really started. I turned down the drive at 10:15, and I was glad I hadn’t come any later. I pulled onto the grass and parked where the poor guy directing traffic motioned for me to go. I immediately felt sorry for him. It was probably fifteen degrees out, and he looked cold, even though he wore a parka, thick gloves, and one of those ski caps that covered his entire face save for his mouth and eyes.
Most people hopped out of their cars and ran into the house, but I sat for a few extra moments to gather my wits.
Casey had worked her magic, and I looked hot. Well, for me, anyway. She’d tamed my hair into submission and helped me with my makeup, giving me a nice smoky eye.
Brett hadn’t liked me wearing a lot of makeup, so over the last few years, I’d gotten used to wearing lip gloss, a touch of mascara, and that’s it. I’d forgotten how fun it could be to get dressed up.
I’d also kind of forgotten about Brett. It may sound harsh, but I really didn’t miss him. It was like I threw away any lingering feelings I had for him along with that empty carton of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.
I’d had everything all planned out—finish my degree, move to Richmond to be with Brett, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. I wasn’t particularly fond of Richmond, but Brett had landed a great job there, and there were several universities I could work for. It just made sense. It was logical, stable.
And now, here I was—freezing my tush off because I was too much of a sissy to go in to the party. What was I even doing here? What business did I have at a frat party with a bunch of undergrads? I hadn’t belonged when I was one, and I sure as hell didn’t belong now.
Suddenly, I did miss Brett, just a little.
No. I took a deep breath. You thought it through. Breaking up with him was the right thing to do. I never did anything rashly. Even my being here tonight was part of a calculated risk. One I’d apparently judged very badly.
Some girls ran past my car, their laughter brightening the darkness. Fun. That’s what I was doing here—I was going to have fun. Even a near-stranger like Josh could see something that Casey had been telling me for months—I needed to loosen up. Judging from what I’d seen so far, I was in the right place.
I opened the car door, taking one last look at the little knit hat I’d thrown in the backseat. Josh had said to bring my party hat, and I was too embarrassed to ask Casey if she thought he’d meant that literally. I mean, fraternities and sororities had themed parties, right? Hat parties could be a thing for all I knew. But no one besides the poor traffic guy was wearing a hat. I should probably just be glad this wasn’t a toga party. I definitely knew those were a thing.
My boots crunched on the frosty grass as I slowly made my way to the house. The parking lot was well lit, but I was back where it was nearly pitch black. I ran my hand along the cars as I walked, preparing to steady myself if I slid on a piece of ice. If I landed on my butt before I’d even officially made it to the party, I was going home, bet or no bet.
People were lined up outside the house, so I stood at the end of the line. It wasn’t until I got to the front that I realized people were paying to get in.
I didn’t have a bit of cash on me. There might be a few loose coins in the bottom of my purse, but even that was doubtful. And somehow I didn’t think they’d take Visa.
Dang it, dang it, dang it!
I’d already screwed up. Why didn’t Josh tell me about the cover charge? Was it mentioned on the flier? Details were normally my thing. How could I have missed such an important one? I prepared to make a quick exit when the person behind me nudged me forward.
“Five dollars,” the guy at the door said. On the table beside him was a spiral notebook open to a page scrawled with names.
The list. That’s right. Josh had told me I would be on the list.
“Um, I’m on the list,” I said.
“Name?”
“Brianna Welch.”
He scanned the list and nodded, crossing off my name. “You’re good. Next!”
I sighed with relief and stepped into the house. The room was huge, the music was loud, the lights were low. There were wall-to-wall bodies. How was I ever going to find Josh in this crowd?
Someone bumped into me, and I felt my blood pressure rise, felt my pulse start to quicken. I hated crowds. I wasn’t particularly claustrophobic, but something about being surrounded by people freaked me out.
So much for my little pep talk in the car.
I checked my watch. I’d already been here five minutes. Well, longer than that if I included the time I wast
ed sitting in my car, but it wasn’t fair to count that. I’d promised two hours, and that two hours started now, whether Josh realized I was here or not.
But still, I needed to find him.
I searched through the crowd until I found someone wearing the fraternity insignia, and asked where I could find Josh. The guy shrugged and told me to look upstairs.
A door in the back of the room led to a narrow staircase, so I fought my way through the crowd. At the top of the steps, though, a guy was posted to keep people out of what I supposed were the private areas of the house. This must be where the brothers’ rooms were.
“I’m Josh’s guest,” I told the guy, hoping he would let me through.
He laughed. “That’s what they all say.”
I crossed my arms. Now what?
A model-gorgeous girl with reddish hair who was walking by stopped. She peered at me. “Did you say you’re with Josh?”
I nodded, but inside I was thinking crap, crap, crap. This could be Josh’s girlfriend or something. I suddenly realized how little I actually knew about him outside of his slacker work habits.
“She’s cool,” the girl said, and I sighed with relief. “Josh has been looking for her.”
My jaw dropped a little, ruining any chance of making a smooth first impression. “He has?”
She motioned for me to follow her down the hall. “He mentioned you were coming,” she said over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m Cori, by the way. And I’m sorry, but I don’t remember what he said your name was.”
“Bri.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bri.”
Her friendly smile immediately put me more at ease, and I followed her into one of the bedrooms.
She pointed to a couple, entwined on the couch. “This is Brad and Amber.” She lightly pushed them so they would slide down on the couch to make room for her, which they did without even coming up for air. “Knock it off, you two.”
Instead, Amber planted a very noisy, wet-sounding kiss on Brad’s mouth.
Wanting More (Love on Campus #2) Page 6