Page 62 of Breakaway Hearts

I make a mental note to check on Ben once Hargraves reclaims Madison. He’s the biggest lightweight I’ve seen. He invited Danica to our last party, took a single shot for liquid courage, then spent the next hour or so slurring his words and telling us all how much he loves us.

“What’s wrong?” Maddie asks me with concern.

“Nothing. Just have to make sure no one’s too drunk to say no.” I throw her words back at her and she rolls her eyes. “Why do you think we have rookies on door duty?”

“To make sure only members of the team’s inner circle and hot girls can get in.”

I laugh at that, and how she says it with zero hesitation.

“Hotness is subjective, so we’d never trust one kid to judge that.” She scoffs. “Your cup is red because you must have seemed sober enough to whoever gave it to you, and they assumed you were at least eighteen. Ben’s cup is blue because we know from experience that he can’t hold his liquor. Tab’s is also blue, which I hope she thinks is because it’s her favorite color, but it’s because⁠—”

“You don’t trust her to make her own decisions?”

I don’t think she’s joking, but I also don’t think she’s as offended as she’s pretending to be.

“So everyone will keep an eye on her.”

“Such a good Samaritan.” Madison either doesn’t believe me or is hardcore judging us for it.

“We’re still a bunch of immature co-eds taking advantage of the lack of parental supervision and flowing alcohol, but it’s a lot more fun when everyone is having fun. Hence the games and the colored cups.”

“And the wall?”

I shouldn’t be surprised that Hargraves told her; they don’t seem like the kind of friends with a lot of secrets. But I’ve never been confronted about it by anyone other than Tab.

“My sister is beautiful, and she came here as a seventeen-year-old who didn’t want the special treatment of⁠—”

“Being your sister.”

“I couldn’t follow her everywhere without coming off as a creepy stalker, and I wanted her to have fun and want to come here, so I asked the guys to treat her like she was their sister too.”

“As in not date her?”

“Not while she was still in high school, but honestly, I’d rather she fall for most of the guys on the team than any of the frat guys I’ve met.”

“And you thought writing her name on a wall in your basement was the best way to make that happen?”

“You think so little of me,” I call her on it.

“You make it easy.” She shoots me the hint of a smile.

“I asked everyone after practice, before they met her. Then I introduced her by saying, ‘This is Tab, your new sister’.”

“And that worked?”

“No one adopted her, but she had a great weekend and chose to study here, so I’d say it did. But, it turns out a lot of the guys have sisters or girlfriends they don’t want to be overprotective assholes with, and can’t always keep an eye on. We had a lot of drunk guys trying to keep track of a long list of names before someone took out a sharpie and the wall was born.”

“What are the columns?” Madison asks, and I look at her curiously.

“You’ve been to the basement?”

“We’ve established that I’m not a fan of athletes,” she reminds me.

I hesitate, because this probably won’t help my case, but we’ve come this far. “Girlfriends vs. Siblings would be the easiest way to put it.” I shrug. “Why did you come tonight?”

“Jay—”

“Plays great every game,” I stop her from that excuse.