I give Emma a twirl. “Yours, of course.”
She fans herself. “You succeeded. Now it’s my turn to get changed.” She runs to her room and slams the door.
My phone vibrates, and I groan when I see who it’s from.
Mike: Hey, you didn’t answer my last message. Wanna come over tonight?
Me: Sorry. I’ve been super busy. I’m having a girl’s night out so I can’t.
Mike: All good. Just let me know when we can hang out, ok?
Me: I will.
Me: We also need to talk.
I cringe internally at my last message. He isn’t going to respond well, not that I blame him. I mute his messages for now and tuck the phone into my purse. Jesus, I feel like such a bitch sometimes. Mike texted me two nights ago and it completely slipped my mind to answer after seeing the notification. It’s time to end things with him.
Faking my orgasm once is one thing, but twice? Hard pass.
I’ll tell him in person this weekend. For now, I want to enjoy the weekend. Either way, Mike always has another booty call on standby.
Em opens the door and lifts her arm dramatically, revealing her fit for the night. It’s a white v-neck long-sleeved cropped top showing off her midriff with low-rise dark jeans and short-heeled brown boots. Her blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun with her bangs hanging out.
“I look hot?” I snort. Em is too humble to realize how gorgeous she is.
She motions to her clothes. “So, it looks okay?”
“Hell yeah. You look sexy.”
“Yay.” She claps. “Let’s take a shot before we go.”
“I’ll get the vodka.” Unfortunately, neither one of us is twenty-one. Em’s twenty, and I’m still nineteen due to my late birthday. Meaning we have to hide all of our bottles between our personal items. We down two shots in a row and chase it with some orange juice.
“Did you text Luna?”
“She’s meeting us at the bar in fifteen.”
“Oh my God, our first night out since we got on campus, finally.” Em squeals jumping up and down.
“I know, took us long enough. Fake?”
“Got it.”
Our fake IDs, courtesy of Jake’s connections, have gotten us into every club and bar here and in the city. They look a little too real, yet like always with Jake, ignorance is bliss.
“Perfect.”
“Time to go.” She grabs my hand and drags us out of the dorm.
By the timewe get to King’s Wolf, there’s already a short line starting to form outside. This girl Rachel we see from time to time decided to join us when we ran into her on the way here. She tells us about this insane party she went to last weekend while playing with the hem of her denim dress. She’s niceenough, but I’ve always kept my distance from her. She parties every week, four times a week, which is fine, but those are not the kind of people I want around me constantly.
We finally reach the entrance and hand our IDs to the bouncers, who scans them and let us in. “You Need Me Now?” by girl in red and Sabrina Carpenter floods through the speakers when the door opens, and we begin our search for Luna.
King’s Wolf has sports memorabilia along the walls, serving as a restaurant, pub, and club all in one. There are also pictures from when the school first opened. It has a long bar towards the left of the room made from dark wood that’s always cramped up by students trying to get their drinks. There are small and large booths all around, excluding the back of the bar where the dance floor is. It’s where most students over the age of twenty-one come, or others with decent fake IDs.
Luna spots us and waves from the corner round booth by the windows. Her sequined lilac shirt glints, highlighting her brown skin. Luna and I met in a Zumba class sophomore year. She’s a fellow Latina, specifically Colombian. The South American community in Driscoll is disappointingly small, so when I met her and she reminded me of home, I kept her close by. Any time we go out to the bars, she tags along.
There’s a girl that I don’t recognize sitting next to her. She’s gorgeous. Supermodel level gorgeous.
