“Screw him.”
“It's just a beating to my ego is all.”
“You know what you need?”
I'm not sure I like that glint in her eye. “No,” I answer warily. “What do I need?”
“To drink,” she announces. “Go put on sexy clothes.”
“It's Sunday night,” I wrinkle my nose. “And you're in pajamas already.”
“So I'll change,” Nina shrugs. “There's always some idiotic fraternity having a party on a Sunday to go to class hungover on Monday. It's like some Greek hazing thing, I think.”
“They're not allowed to haze. It's against school rules.”
Nina gives me a withering look. “They make them drink beer through a funnel tube and make bets on who can score the hottest girl. Typical douchebag frat guy things.”
“And why are we going to a frat party to drink instead of staying here and opening a bottle of wine?” I ask and gesture to our kitchen. “We have wine here, Nina. And we don't even have to wear pants if we want to.”
“Not going to work. Go, put on cute clothes that'll make guys drool. You'll dance, maybe kiss a guy and drink. Then we’ll come home and regret everything tomorrow morning and call it a wrap on Brad the Douche.” She points her finger at me. “No more interpretive dance guys.”
“He was in choir.”
She raises her eyebrows as if to say, So what? He's still a douche.
Maybe she's right. “Fine,” I concede. “I'll go dress like a harlot and party.”
“Nobody says harlot!” she calls after me as I make my way to my room down the hall.
I tug on a pair of shorts and a tank top with a glitter design on the front and my sandals. I swipe pink lipstick across my lips. Something I had bought long ago and didn't wear at all.
Taking a look in the mirror, my hair and makeup were still done from dinner so I looked nice. Not overly sexy like some of the girls who went to frat parties on Greek Row. But I looked sexier than what I normally felt like.
So there's a plus.
I come back out into the living room to find Nina in shorts as well, but she's got on a large t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. It takes me a moment to realize she's wearing her boyfriends practice jersey with his name scrawled on the back.
“Really?” I arch an eyebrow at her, but she's been typing away on her phone.
“Really what?” she asks without looking up.
“You're wearing Jackson’s jersey?”
“I'm not going to let some idiot hit on me. Tonight is all for you.” Her eyes flicker up to meet mine and widen as she looks at me. “Holy hot mama.”
Well, now I just feel self-conscious as I tug on the tank top that's a little too small now that I inspect it closer. A strip of my belly is showing.
“You're going to definitely be noticed tonight.”
I look longingly to our kitchen. “And you're absolutely certain you don't want to stay here and just drink wine and eat ice cream?”
“You look hot,” she rolls her eyes and shoves her phone in her pocket. “Tonight you're going to flirt and forget about guys that are idiots.”
“I don't think I want to do one night stands anymore,” I flinch. “Killian made a good point about that not being me.”
“So you won't go that far. Making out with a hot guy who thinks you're hot isn't going to make you into the equivalent of how Killian goes through girls.”
“You mean a whore?” I deadpan.
“You're definitely not a whore,” Nina points her finger at me. “You just need a boyfriend hiatus. Just be flirty and fun for awhile and see if you like it.”
“What if I don't?”
“Then no harm, no foul,” Nina shrugs. “It's just a little flirting and maybe some kissing. Frat parties never lead to anything serious anyways. It's time to let a guy boost your ego.”
“You're right,” I paste on my best confident smile. “Let's do this.”
“Right on!”
Chapter Eight
Killian
“Dude,” I hear Ian slur in my ear. “We've been drinking for like, all day.” He wrinkles his blunt nose. “Did that make sense?”
I shake my head from side to side.
“Whatever.” He squints at me. “I am more drunker than you, aren't I?”
Considering I haven't even finished one beer, I'd say yes he's more drunker than me. “Yeah.” I take the cup from his hand and give him a water bottle. “Drink that instead.”
“Party pooper.”
“Damn straight. I don't need Coach riding my ass about how shitty we played yesterday.”
“Your mind wasn't in the game,” Ian shrugs. “You could just call her, you know.”
And say what though? Because I had no idea past wanting to scream my head off or hug her.
“You need a distraction,” Ian points at me. He starts to turn to look around the crowded room of the basement of the fraternity house we’re partying at. “There! Two hot girls are dancing together all sexy.”
I turn my head to look, even though I'm not really interested in anyone tonight. But he's right.
There are two girls on the other side of the room dancing with each other and laughing. Neither of their faces are showing but guys keep turning their heads to look at the redhead swaying her hips to the beat of “Get Low” before the whole dance floor drops to the ground on the chorus.
The redhead does a slow rise, her ass rising in the air and several whistles let out, but she doesn't turn around to acknowledge anyone. And now I'm turned on.
“Let's go say hi,” Ian grins, obviously catching me watching the girl. “She's just your type.”
I sigh. Ever since I sort’ve admitted to possibly being a little jealous of Brad and his date with Lila, Ian’s been throwing out how I have a thing for redheads. In the case that I usually don't go anywhere near redheads because, according to Ian, there's too much resemblance to Lila.
But tonight I'm making an exception. Maybe it'll get her out of my head for a little bit. I definitely need a break from the funk I've been in since our fight. And little Miss Daisy Dukes is going to be that distraction.
I don't even glance at her friend, just slide my arm around the girl's slim waist and pull her back into my chest and start to sway my hips with hers.
She tightens up for a second before relaxing into me. That's it pretty girl, just go with it.
I actually have no idea what her face looks like. She's got her head angled down and the smell of vanilla wafts up my nose. She could be ugly but I wouldn't have a clue.
I spread my hand out, catching the feeling of soft skin from where her tank top has ridden up her stomach. She's a little sweaty from being over here dancing, but it's turning me even more on.
Tilting my chin down, I press my lips right below her ear and feel a small shudder make it's way through her body.
Is it wrong I'm a little smug about that fact I'm going to get Lila out of my system once and for all? Nah.
Sliding my hands from her hips to bring her arms around my neck, something I learned last year made for an easy night with a girl, I lean down and kiss a hot trail from below her ear to her shoulder.
My eyes lift, and they slam right into Lila’s roommate, Nina’s, wide gaze. Her mouth is hanging open and she's just openly gaping at me.
What the fuck?
She's seen me like this with plenty of girls so why the bell is she staring at me like I've shocked her silly? I pull away from the hot redhead and frown at Nina.
“What?” I say rather angrily since she's interrupting my good time.
The redhead in my arms suddenly jerks out of my reach and barrels straight into Nina. All of the warmth I was feeling a minute ago is now replaced with an almost icy feeling in the air.
Hot Redhead Girl still isn't looking at me, just looking like she's visibly shaking and gripping a hold of Nina’s shoulders tightly. They must have come together.
“Killian?” I hear my name asked in a low whis
per and suddenly I know why the icy feeling is surrounding me.
The shock must register on my face as she turns around, not only moments ago was she in my arms, and now she looks like she's ready to go into a panic state.
“Fuck,” I wipe my hand over my mouth and look around. Several people are staring at us in curiosity, probably wondering what the hell is happening between me and this girl that they don't recognize.
That I didn't recognize.
“Lila,” I shift on my feet and shake my head. “You look...different.” Very far from her usual self. Her hair’s in curls, she has shiny pink lips that seem fuller and poutier than normal. And her outfit is a lot tighter than what she normally wears.
Christ, I had my hands on her. I was grinding on her. And then the motherload of it all hits me: I kissed her.
Maybe not on the mouth, but I definitely had my lips on her skin. In the not-so-best-friendly way, either.
“Shit,” I swallow hard and step towards her. Thankfully, she doesn't step back. “I'm so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Clearly,” Nina deadpans from behind where Lila’s just staring at me.
“I thought you were someone else,” I wince.
“Like who?” I strain to hear Lila’s softly spoken question.
That causes me to wince again. “I don't know. Anybody but you.”
“So what, I'm not hot enough?” Lila’s voice comes out shrill.
She's kidding me, right? There's no way that she's not aware that she's hot. Even without all the glamour. But why would she think I wouldn't quit dancing with her, kissing on her, if I knew who she was? She wasn't into me.
And I have no idea how I'm feeling about her lately.
“First off,” I scowl, “you are hot. Second of all, what the hell are you doing here, pretending to act like me and letting some guy, who only saw the back of you, touch you like that?”
Her mouth falls open in shock again, but then she squares her shoulders and I know Nina's observation of us has fled her mind. “You touch girls like that all the time!”
“Yeah, because I'm looking to get laid.”
“Maybe I just wanted to dance,” her eyes turn stormy. “And then you came over here and started doing what you normally do.”
“So it's my fault you're shaking your ass for everyone to look at?” I scoff. “No way. That's all you, baby doll.” I fold my arms across my chest. “And like I said, I didn't know it was you.”
“Obviously not since you were treating me like one of those millions of other girls.”
I grit my teeth together. “It's not like you weren't enjoying it.”
My mind starts to immediately scream at me, Retreat! Run! Wrong fucking thing to say right now, moron!
I go to open my mouth to apologize, but Lila reels back and slaps me, hard, across my face. The slap itself doesn't sting as much as the hurt look flashing across Lila’s face and I can tell she's trying not to cry.
Dammit, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“Lila,” I sigh and reach for her, but she backs away from me. Lila darts behind Nina who looks like she's ready to start clawing at me if I come any closer. “I'm sorry.”
Lila whispers something into Nina’s ear and Nina quickly turns on her heel and storms off with Lila right behind her.
And I'm stuck with the crowd staring at me and feeling like a hole just cracked a mile wide inside my chest.
Ian lumbers over, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “What happened to the redhead?”
“It was Lila,” I say, feeling completely defeated.
Ian's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “You're kidding me? When I meant find someone like her, I didn't mean literally her, dude.”
“I know.”
“So she left?”
“She left,” I echo.
“And things just got shittier, didn't they?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you need another beer.”
This time, I think he's right.
It's Wednesday afternoon. I'm sitting on the bench in the locker room feeling like hell. My game is off. My mind’s not in it.
Coach lumbers into the room, mostly everyone is gone, but I'm still sitting in my practice pants, my pads laying off to the side of me. I don't have the will to pretend that I'm okay.
Coach Stephen is a good man, but he's a no-nonsense kind of coach. You either come to play ball or you don't come at all.
“Alright, Blane,” Coach sighs and sits down next to me. “What's wrong.”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Is this about the non-girlfriend from last week?”
I shrug my shoulders.
“What's going on, kid? I can't help you if you don't tell me what needs to be helped with.”
I give him a strange look. “I thought we were supposed to keep our personal life out of football?”
“You are,” he answers bluntly. “But apparently that's not working for you. So get to it, I don't want to be here all night.”
I stare down at my hands. “I think I made her hate me.”
“The redhead?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you do?”
“Everything wrong apparently.”
Coach gives me a funny look so I decide to hell with it, and start from the beginning. How long I've known Lila, how overprotective I am, how she thinks our friendship is ruining her life somehow, and then how I tried to get her out of my head on Sunday and what a clusterfuck that night became.
“So she probably hates me,” I finish.
Coach doesn't answer right away. In fact, we sit in uncomfortable silence for five minutes before he opens his mouth. “That's rough, Blane.”
His statement makes me bristle. “That's all you've got to say about it?”
“Sounds like you both messed up. You both need to apologize and move on from it.”
“I did apologize!”
Coach gives me one of his famous menacing glares. “Just saying ‘I'm sorry’ doesn't actually count as an apology sometimes. You actually have to do something about it.”
“Like what?”
“I don't know, kid. Something that'll make her change her mind about you. Life isn't easy.”
“That's for damn sure,” I sigh.
“We all make mistakes sometimes to the people we care about. It's inevitable, it's going to happen eventually, but you have to learn to accept that and roll with it when it comes. Learn from it and don't make the mistake again. Do you understand?”
Not really. “Yeah.”
I think Coach knows I'm lying to him, but he just nods his head, claps me on the shoulder, then leaves the locker room.
It takes me longer than it usually does to shower and change into my normal clothes before leaving the locker room. I'm starving now and check my phone for what feels like the millionth time today.
I guess tonight is going to be the first night in a few years that Lila and I don't have Wednesday best friend night together. Maybe she got stuck on a project, but even I'm not convincing enough to lie to myself.
So instead, I head to the Union and swipe my card to go into the all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of food.
Almost like having Lila-radar, I swivel my head when the hairs in the back of my neck stand up. Sure enough, she's standing by the exit. And she's talking to fucking Bradley, of course.
I turn away and flop down at the football table. After a few moments of silence, I look up to see that everyone has pretty much stopped talking and is staring at me.
“What?” I grunt. I'm not in the mood for anybody's shit today.
“It's Wednesday,” Alex supplies.
“I know what day it is. I passed kindergarten.”
“But you're here,” he continues.
“So what?”
“Why aren't you with Lila?” Gage, who's one of our running backs, says.
“They're in a fight,” comes Ian's smooth reply as he drops into the seat next to me. “I wouldn't ask him a
bout it either. He's liable to deck someone.”
“Oh, everyone already knows,” Alex answers smugly. “Apparently that's the talk of campus.”
“What's the talk of campus?” I frown.
“Nope!” Ian says loudly. “We're not discussing it. I already fucking told you, he's liable to hit any one of you idiots.”
“What's going on?” I demand.
The smug smile slips off Alex’s face. He looks more sad now before he answers with, “You and Lila. You're the talk of campus.”
“So what? People are always talking about me.”
“You're not getting it,” Alex sighs. “You and Lila.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand angrily.
“This is why I said don't say anything,” Ian grumbles next to me.
Alex ignores him and turns to face me head-on. “There's some gossip that Lila and you got into some lovers quarrel over the weekend. Something about her wanting to be with you and you not wanting to settle into a relationship. I guess a lot of people saw you fighting at Delta Phi.”
Of course they did.
“But Lila and I were never together,” I point out.
Alex pulls out his phone and Ian grumbles some more before Alex hands me the device.
Shock is the first thing to spread through me. I can't believe what I'm looking at on the screen. Sure, I've seen pictures floating around of me smiling with some girl, but these are of me with Lila.
It's of us dancing, but it's from her side so you can see her face. Her arms are around my neck and my mouth is pressing against the column of her throat.
She looks happy and hot.
Except she didn't know it was me.
I swallow audibly and set the phone on the table like it might bite me. It's been reshared one hundred and seven times.
“People know who she is now,” Alex says softly before sliding his hand to another picture. “There's one more after.”
Now she's standing across from me. We're clearly arguing and both of us look hurt and angry. I swipe my shaking hand for the final picture to appear.
Her hand is away from my face by mere inches and it's hard to tell if it's before or after that slap happened. That moment when I felt everything inside of me crumble to dust.
The Wrong Way: Hanson University: One Page 6