“There is no gang anymore. The Campus Drivers’ party days are behind them now, man—they’re all shacked up.”
“That sucks.”
“Tell me about it. Total disgrace, dude!”
“That mean you’re free?”
“Yup.” I nod. “Got something in mind? Because if so, you can count me in.”
Dwayne nods. “Honestly, it’s perfect for you.”
“Tell me more.”
He grins at me. “What if I told you it involves fast cars and cute asses?”
That’s exactly what I need.
“Where do I sign?”
He laughs. “Amazing. I know you hate riding shotgun, so how about you swing by my place? Pick me up around nine?”
“Sold,” I agree. “Where we going?”
“Not sure of the specifics yet, I’ll let you know. Dress warm, though—apparently it’s gonna snow.”
WHEN I GET HOME, Igrab a bite to eat, pull on jeans and a sweater, and head for Dwayne’s dorm with over half an hour to spare. Yeah, I’m early—but the Wolinskis were play-fighting over their trophy, and I just needed to get the hell out of there. I’m happy for Don, but seeing him waste time with his girlfriend—time he could be spending on his life goals—makes me sad for him.
While I wait for nine to roll around, I catch up on the latest NBA scout news. A handful of them have already come sniffing around SHU, and I know they’ll be back in February, when they’ll swoop in to pluck off their favorites. I’m not complaining or anything. I know I’m up there on their watch list—but there’s no way I’m taking that for granted. I didn’t bust my balls just to get sloppy near the finish line.
I’m fixing my phone to the dash holder when there’s a knock on my window. I jerk my head up. Dwayne.
“You have no idea how psyched I am that we’re hanging out tonight,” I say as I start the engine.
He pushes his seat back, laughing. “Don’t thank me till we get there. But yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love it.”
“So, whose dorm are we hitting up?”
“Nobody’s.” He shakes his head. “Head for Worthington.”
“Now you’ve got me curious.”
“You scared?”
I glance at him. “Should I be?”
“Don’t worry, it’s all legit.”
I smile. This isn’t my first underground party, but it’s been a while, and tonight it’s freezing.
We head out of town, and over the next forty-five minutes, Dwayne talks me through his team’s latest stats and games.
“Turn off here.”
I swing a left, and we speed through miles of deserted countryside, until finally I spot a row of cars parked along the side of the road.
There’s a makeshift barrier blocking my way. Dwayne rolls his window down to flash his phone at the guy manning the checkpoint, who nods us through—and just like that, we’re in. The place is heaving, and as I crawl through the crowds, I can feel their eyes on us.
“Keep going, let’s get close to the entrance. That way we’ll get a better view.”
