Behind her, a hand shoots up in the air from beneath a pile of blankets, one choice finger in the air.
“Hi, Briar.”
“It’s too early,” Briar snaps back.
“Ignore her. She was up late making grilled cheese,” Daisy says conspiratorially. “She doesn’t bite.”
Briar sits up in bed. Her long red hair is in a nest on the top of her head that is held together by a scrunchie and sheer will. “Just come in before Larissa gets any ideas.”
Daisy pulls me in by the wrist and shuts the door behind me. “Larissa down at the end of the hall is obsessed with birth charts. After she did Briar’s, she decided that they’re cosmically linked or something.”
Briar pulls a pillow over her head with a groan. “The only thing I want to link is my fist with her face.”
“You’re violent in the mornings,” I tell her.
Daisy smiles and pats a papasan chair with a fur cushion for me to sit in. “Oh, that’s an all-day thing.” She opens a baby-blue mini fridge. “Can I offer you a cold-pressed juice? A jade roller?”
“Uh…”
“Say yes,” Briar says as she emerges from the pillow. “I don’t know what they put in that juice, but it’s the nectar of heaven.”
I nod, and Daisy presses a glass bottle into my open hand and a jade roller into my other.
“I was invited to a party,” I tell them and then take a sip of the dark red juice, rolling the cool jade under my eyes. “Oh shit, that is great.”
“Told you,” Briar says as she holds her hand out for a juice of her own. “Turns out having a rich roommate is great.”
“I’m not rich,” Daisy clarifies. “Just comfortable.”
Briar snorts. “Well, it takes a lot of money to be this comfortable.”
Daisy smiles as she sits on her bed with her legs crossed. She wears matching silk pajamas with little chocolate-covered strawberries all over them. “You were saying something about a party?”
“Right. Yes!” I set my drink down on the dresser between their beds and pull the square card Tate gave me from the pocket of my sleep shorts. One side simply reads “1919 Hemphill” and the other has a QR code.
Daisy gasps. “You were invited to a party at 1919 Hemphill?”
Briar snatches the card out of my hand and immediately scans the code. “You have been invited to an exclusive party hosted by the residents of 1919 Hemphill,” she reads. “If you’ve received this card, your cover charge has been waived. Party dress codes are strictly adhered to and this Saturday is an ABC party. Guests are required to wearanything but clothes.”
Daisy turns to me with wide, pleading eyes. “We have to go!”
Okay, this is easier than I thought it would be. One girl down.
“This sounds like a breeding ground for date rape,” Briar says.
“Point taken. Which is why I was hoping you would both come with me,” I say. “Safety in numbers, right?”
“I thought it would at least be the spring semester before I got invited to a party at 1919 Hemphill,” Daisy says.
“Dreams really do come true,” I tell her. “I guess this is a big deal, then?”
Daisy nods like a possessed bobblehead. “A super rich family owns the place and guys live there by invitation only. And when I say rich, I mean, like, enough money to buy elections and own private planes.”
Bennett definitely falls into that category of rich. God, I hope he’s not going Saturday. Things between us have been too easy lately, and I need just one night to remind myself that there is life after this silly little marriage is dissolved. I need to remember that I will be okay.
Briar is unimpressed. “No can do. It’s a Saturday night. I can’t just close up shop.”
Over the last few weeks, Briar’s grilled cheese pop-up has become the thing of legends. She even has add-ons now like pickles, pesto, and jalapeños. The other night when I got home, I heard some girls walking down the hall, discussing a supposed secret menu. With the dining halls closing at ten and nonexistent food delivery options after midnight, Briar’s business is booming, and Bennett has become one of her most loyal customers. (Which I have greatly benefited from.)
