“I scored the winning touchdown against our rivals, Ridgeview State.”
I blink at him. “Oh.”
He makes a show of looking mock offended. “Oh? That’s all I get?”
“I think your ego’s been stroked enough for one night.”
His grin widens at my bold comeback. “Touché, Poison Ivy. Tou-fucking-ché.”
After that, Wes leads me into the house, telling me to stay close to him in the crowd. As we shuffle from room to room, I scan the female faces around me for signs of Ava or Kinsley.
Wes bends down to be heard over the music. “Do you see her?” he asks. When I shake my head, he points to a door off the kitchen. “Let’s try downstairs.”
I don’t want to try downstairs. Downstairs is thelastplace on earth I want to go, but Wes takes off before I can protest, and I have to hurry after him, so we don’t lose each other. It’s hard to admit, but I feel safer next to him than away from him, which isn’t saying much at a party like this. But still.
If I thought the sound system was loud in the kitchen, it’s earsplitting in the basement. Lights pulse, bodies gyrate, and the floor reeks of stale beer. The air is damp and humid, and I start to sweat beneath my parka, suddenly understanding how most girls get away with wearing so little clothing.
I have no idea how I’ll find my roommates in this dank, dark mess, but Wes doesn’t seem concerned. Instead of entering the mass of students, he shimmies his way around the edge of the room toward the student DJ in the back. Before I can overthink, I latch onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt, so we don’t get separated.
When we make it to the back of the room, he turns to me. I quickly drop his shirt as his head bends to my ear, and he shouts to be heard over the music. “What’s Ava’s last name?”
“Matthews,” I call back. He nods once, and then I watch in absolute horror as he climbs onto the makeshift stage and says something I can’t make out to the fraternity-appointed DJ, who looks thrilled to be talking to Stratus’s apparent football star.
He passes Wes the mic, and the electronic beats cut. Before anyone can complain, Wes booms into the microphone, “What’s up, everyone?”
“What’s up, Doc?” calls some guy in the back.
“Doc! Doc! Doc!”
“Get it, Tuckerrrrr!”
He grins before motioning for the chanting to stop. “Sorry to interrupt the party, but I’m looking for Ava. Ava Matthews!”
“Lucky bitch,” a girl behind me says to her friend.
“Tell me about it.”
“Ava Matthews?” Wes calls. “Do we have an Ava Matthews in here? Anyone seen her? You? You? No?”
“She left a while ago!” calls a girl in the middle of the room.
Wes squints into the crowd. “Any idea where she went?”
“No, but I’m available!”
The room erupts inwhoops, but Wes shakes his head. “Appreciate it, but I’m a man on a mission tonight. Happy drinking, everyone!” he calls, then turns the mic back over.
“Give it up one more time for the man, the myth, the legend who scored the winning touchdown against Ridgeview fucking State! The fucking doctor, Wes Tucker!”
The room cheers again, but the sound is drowned out by blaring electronic beats. Somehow, I’m pushed farther away from the stage, forcing Wes to shimmy through the mass of people to reach me. He doesn’t make it far before a couple sorority girls block his path, and I watch in disgust as they touch him, running their hands up his arms and chest and back.
Sweating in my winter gear, I decide I need out of this basement asap. So, I leave Wes with his groupies, duck my head, and ascend the creaky staircase back up to the main floor of the house.
“Hey, babe. Can I help you out of that jacket?” asks a guy lingering in the hallway. I ignore him, walking straight past, and wince at the muttered, “bitch,” he throws at my back. Goosebumps raise across my skin because that’s the kind of unchecked, male aggression that scares me the most.
Outside the house, I suck in air. The cold feels incredible now, and I unzip my coat, trying not to suffocate beneath the dense fur and fabric. Then, I head in the direction we came from, not expecting Wes to extract himself from those girls anytime soon. I check my phone again, distraught to find the screen blank, and begin the trek back to the dorm. What else can I do at this point but wait outside the door?
“Ivy! Wait up!” My footsteps slow to a stop, and I turn, brow scrunching as I spot Wes jogging toward me down the sidewalk. His face is flushed, dark curls sticking to his forehead from the humidity. “Sorry about that. Couldn’t shake them off.”
