He turns to me. “I don’t suppose you’d—”
Nope. Following Brooke’s lead, I step inside before he can finish the question.
“What happened to being attracted to the person and not their sexual organs?” Brooke shouts to her roommate, words barely audible over the thumping bass.
The corner of Soraya’s mouth twitches. “I was referring to his brain, not his penis, smutbutt.”
A laugh bursts from my mouth, easing the tension that’s settled between my shoulder blades. Greek Row is so not my scene. The floor vibrates beneath my feet as I trail Brooke down the dimly lit hall, squeezing between sticky bodies to avoid getting separated from my friends.
I step on some guy’s foot and I’m halfway through a shouted apology when Brooke grabs my arm and drags me into the living room. It’s crowded, but thankfully, there’s room to breathe. There’s a beer pong table set up in one corner and, in another, an enormous speaker. Most of the furniture has been pushed up against the wall to create a dancefloor and a couple is going at it on the couch, giving quite the show.
Cup in hand, Maddie heads straight for the punchbowl.
The rest of us follow.
“Is that a good idea?” I ask as a beefy guy in a Sig Chi polo sloshes red liquid into her cup. “You don’t even know what that is.”
“Or what’s been added to it,” Soraya says, eyeing the frat bro.
“It’s all good.” He flashes a boy next door grin that’s probably charmed the panties off more than a few women. “It’s my job to watch the punch bowl tonight. Anyone tries to slip anything in the mix, they answer to me.”
“And that’s supposed to make us feel better?” For all we know, he’ll abandon his duties at the first opportunity to hook up.
“If I fuck this up, the best-case scenario is that I have to answer to the fraternity president. Worst? Let’s just say I’d need to transfer out of criminology.”
He glances at my cup and I grudgingly hand it over.
Once we’ve got our drinks, we carve out a little spot for ourselves on the makeshift dancefloor. We dance and talk and laugh and before I know it, the back of my neck is damp with sweat and my cup is empty.
“I can honestly say I didn’t expect to have this much fun on Greek Row,” Soraya says, extending an arm over her head as she moves her body to the beat of the music.
Brooke bumps her roommate’s hip and winks. “I told you there were better ways to spend a Friday night than studying!”
We dance for another couple of songs and I’m debating the merits of a second drink when Maddie grabs my arm. “This party just moved to the next level.”
A loud cheer goes up from the other side of the room and someone starts a Wildcat chant, leaving no doubt as to the identity of the new arrivals.
“Is it me, or did Cooper DeLaurentis get even hotter over the summer?” Brooke asks, watching the football players over the top of her cup.
They make their way across the room amid raucous cheers and high-fives, their gathered fans eager to get in on the post-game celebration.
And why not? The football team got it done today.
Unlike some people.
Coach Sharpe’s disappointed face flashes before my eyes and shame heats my cheeks. I may not have a choice about filling in as the Wildcat, but I’ve never been mediocre in my life, and I’m not about to start now.
By next week, I’ll be the best damn mascot Waverly’s ever seen.
Or, if not the best, I’ll at least be respectable. Good enough to keep my ass out of a disciplinary hearing, anyway.
Plus, it’s an away game. Surely the expectations are lower?
“I’d trade my first-born to the devil himself for a piece of that man,” Brooke says. “Dating a guy like that would do unspeakable things to my follower count.”
“Sorry, babe. The odds of locking that down are slim to not in this lifetime.” Maddie gives a dramatic sigh as a half-dozen women descend on her crush. “But I doubt it’ll keep them from trying.”
Brooke tips her head back and drains her cup. “You know who doesn’t get enough play? Parker.”
