Finn: You do realize Boden wants to stay home because Lexi is home, right?
Boden: Bingo bongo, buddy. And the same could be said for you.
Finn: Ha. I won’t deny that.
Me: You two can makeout with your girlfriends any night of the week. Come out, you fuckers.
Finn: Again, I’d like to reiterate that it’s 5 p.m.
Boden: Yeah, Acer. We’ve got time, man.
Fuck me. Not being able to tell these bastards that I’m Double C’s new prez is proving to be a real pain in my ass.
Me: Fine, but I’m taking this as your official confirmation that you will be in attendance at Double C tonight. If you’re not there, I will personally hire Gunnar to come find you.
Boden: You’re really scary, you know that? But not in the way you think.
Me: I’m fully aware of all the ways I’m scary and I don’t care. I’ll see you tonight. PS: You’ve got six hours to emotionally prepare. I expect vibes. Excitement. Big ass fucking smiles. We’re not dragging our way into sophomore year like a bunch of losers
Boden: HA. Big ass fucking smiles? I don’t think Finn’s face is capable of that.
That actually makes me laugh, despite the otherwise raw nature of my mood.
Me: That’s where Scottie comes in. Finn can’t not smile when she’s around and I’ve also texted her to assure her attendance
Finn: My girl definitely makes me smile, but the idea of you texting her behind my back does NOT.
Me: Finn please. Behind your back? Be realistic and let’s move on to more important things…Do either of you need help in your attire selection tonight?
Finn: You’re a fucking clown.
Boden: I second this.
I head into my bedroom, but as I toss my phone onto the bed, it pings again. I half expect it to be Blake sending me a photo of him in socks and fucking sandals to screw with me, but I shouldn’t be surprised when I see who it is.
After all, she’s one of three people I can think of off the top of my head that are nuttier than I am.
Mama Cass: If you mess this up, I’m changing my emergency contact to Gunnar. And I think we both know I might as well make myself a DNR.
Me: Pretty sure Dad should be your emergency contact…
Mama Cass: Excuse me? Do you even hear yourself right now?
Me: Valid point.
Mama Cass: You’re my favorite kid today. I love you. Have the best fucking time. PS: Don’t ruin our legacy, or I’ll kill you.
Me: Love you too.
I set the phone down, still grinning, and grab the mini speaker from my desk to blast my “Hype and Dangerous” playlist on Spotify. But I only get half a song deep before I hear a faint knock at the door.
“It’s open!”
A moment later, Julia walks into my bedroom.
She’s standing in the doorway in that off-the-shoulder gray sweatshirt she always wears when she’s not trying, which makes it even more unfair that she still looks gorgeous. She blinks at me. Her eyes drop to my outfit. My shoes. My perfectly done hair.
“You’re already dressed?” she asks, surprised, and I feel like an asshole that I’ve been too busy making phone calls and running over to campus to pay off two campus security guards to try more seriously to check in with her. I texted a couple times, but I should have hunted her down in person. I know we weren’t in a fight per se, but she was—probably still is—upset with me. And our fifteen-minute rule should’ve been of the utmost priority.
