“No drugs?” I ask, and Wilson Masters flashes me a grin.
“Nope,” he says, popping the P. “But I know where to get some.”
I wink before taking the ladle and pouring some punch into my cup. “I’m good. Have a great night.” His eyes move across my body, and I roll my eyes. “Not gonna happen.”
“You gotta give me another chance,” he practically begs, and I shake my head.
“You couldn’t find my clit, Willy, then came in your pants when you did.”
He grins sheepishly. “I’ve learned things.”
Okay, yes, I hooked up with him. I was sixteen, and he was my first kiss. I know I shouldn’t hold it against him, but if I’m going to take off my pants, I want to be guaranteed an orgasm.
Willy doesn’t give off guaranteed-orgasm energy.
“I’m good,” I say with a wave and a wide grin. “See you around.”
“I’m gonna convince you,” he calls out, and I shake my head.
“Not after you told everyone I sucked your dick, when I didn’t,” I say before flicking him the bird.
“I was a stupid guy.”
“Don’t you mean, am?” I call back with a wink.
His laughter follows me out of the kitchen. I move through the house, taking in the crowd of my peers who are dancing and rubbing against each other in the primal dance of youth. It’s foggy in here from all the vapes and weed, almost choking me out. Add in the mixture of sweaty bodies, sex, and all kinds of beer, and I want to gag.
Welcome to college.
This is the experience adults want for us.
So awesome.
I can’t help but take in the wall of fame. Some of the greats, including Dawson Sinclair’s dad, Jayden, and his uncles, Jace and Jude. They are royalty around here, so it only makes sense why Dawson Sinclair is idolized.
The Bullies’ house is a cool place. Multiple floors, lots of rooms for the guys, and super modern. While it’s all sleek with white marble and slate gray walls, it also has a sense of home. Maybe it’s the cushions on the couches or all the photos of the team from year to year, but you can tell that the guys are taken care of. That they love where they live.
I head out to the courtyard behind the house as I pull out my phone. I see a few couples talking close, getting to know each other before they go find somewhere to get naked. They don’t pay me any attention as I sit down on a large beanbag with the Bellevue Bullies logo on it that is next to a huge fire pit.
I lean back, looking up at the stars as a smile moves across my face. The only reason I agreed to come tonight was because my interview to broadcast for the Bellevue Bullies’ girls’ hockey team was a success. I will call all the games next season, and I’m super stoked about it.
I should have gone to Cold Stone to celebrate instead, yet here I am. I tried not to be the boring person that the Graces claim I am, and I listened to my dad, who told me to come celebrate.
I open my text thread with him and hit the microphone.
“You told me to come, and I’m sitting alone because people my age suck.”
He messages right back. I hit play, and his deep voice makes me grin. “All people suck. You gotta find your people.”
“I don’t think they exist. Only you, Mom, andTía.”
“They’re out there. Don’t worry. Try to have some fun. There are hockey players there. Find one and talk shop.”
“They’ll try to make out with me.”
“Thank you for ruining my night with that image.”
“You suggested it.”
