I lie in bed the next morning, laughing as I read an email from Jacey, keeping me up to date with everything I’m missing back home. The last of the exams have just finished, which means the entire campus is in party mode, and Jacey can party like the best of them.
Last year, she dragged me to a huge kegger, where half the graduating class was partying like it was the last day they’d ever get to have fun before entering the real world. Knowing how competitive I am, she bet the entire Kappa house that we—me, Jacey and Kelsie—would drink them all under the table. The terms of the bet: if I won, they’d have to jog through the quad in our underwear. If they won, we’d have to enjoy the rest of the party in only our underwear. I tried so hard to get out of it, but as soon as the guys got the idea of girls partying in their undies, they were sold.
As soon as the first red cup was set in front of me, I quickly downed it, as did Kelsie, but Jacey took her sweet time. I wasn’t sure if she had some kind of secret drinking superpower, but I went with it. After round three, I was feeling the buzz heavily and Kelsie’s eyes were already glazed over. Jacey, though, was sipping like a champ. I walked over to her side of the table and whispered, “What are you doing? Pacing yourself?”
“Nope, on the next round, follow my lead,” she answered, and I nodded.
The next round came around quicker than I imagined, and I carefully clued Kelsie in to follow whatever Jacey did. That’s when Jacey literally crawled under the table, drink in hand, followed closely by Kelsie and me. Technically, we won, as we drank them under the table, and the next hour was spent by the three of us riding around in Kelsie’s car as the boys jogged in thongs around the quad.
Tears prick my eyes as I realise how much I really miss that girl. After I finish the email, I tap out a quick text.
Me: I miss you, buttercup. Under the table.
Jacey: UNDER THE FUCKING TABLE!!! Best. Night. Ever.
Me: Come see me … please?
Jacey: Two weeks? My parents owe me a graduation gift. No better present than a ticket to Oz with my best bitch.
Me: For real? You’ll come? Swear it!
Jacey: I’ll let you know, but yeah, I’m in.
Me: I love you. I hope they say yes. I need you.
Jacey: Everything good? Should I bring body bags?
Me: Nah, nothing like that, just homesick.
Jacey: Isn’t there your home?
Me: Technically, yes, but best friends are home. Max has his best friends; I want mine.
Jacey: Order up! Best friend on her way!
As it clicks over to afternoon, I finally throw back the covers and reluctantly make my way down to the kitchen, not able to properly start the day until I’ve had at least three coffees. I catch sight of myself in the hallway mirror and cringe. Thank God the only person who sees me in the morning is Max.
By the time I hear the voices, it’s too late. I’ve already rounded the corner into the kitchen, and I’m in full view of my brother and all of the guys. Nash spots me first and lets out a loud chuckle. I consider hiding my braless chest, but I don’t have anything they haven’t seen before. Max will probably be pissed about me walking around in a pair of yoga shorts and singlet, but I’m in no mood to care. He’s got cancer; he needs to worry about that, not my attire.
“Big night, huh?” he asks.
Four other sets of eyes turn to stare at me, but the only ones I’m concerned about are Drew’s. His gaze locks on mine, and I force a tight smile.
“Something like that. I didn’t realise you were all coming over.”
“Thought we should get everything sorted as quickly as possible. Makes sense to get all the planning out of the way now so we have enough time to practice.” Drew’s eyes trail down over my loose singlet which hangs just below my arse. I tug at the hem, wishing it was a few inches longer.
“Sure, uh, well, I might go and get dressed,” I say, feeling on the outer. I’m as much a part of this as anyone.
“Yeah, unless you plan to walk around all day in that,” Drew comments. My face heats as the guys chuckle. Why wouldn’t Drew at least text me to warn me he and all the guys were going to be in my living room? I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it. I need to blame him for something, and this is the perfect excuse.
After a quick shower, I choose a pair of leggings from my suitcase and a long-sleeved tee shirt that hugs my curves. I glance around at all my clothes strewn everywhere. Maybe I should get around to unpacking one day. Chances are I’m going to be here a while.
I run a brush through my thick hair, wishing I’d taken the time to wash it yesterday so it wasn?
?t so unmanageable. When I finally tuck it up into a bun, I throw on some mascara and run some gloss over my lips.
Why am I feeling so shit this morning? I feel like I shouldn’t have even bothered getting out of bed. I reach for my phone and text Emma. She should be here if only to give me someone to talk to. I have no idea how, but I’ve turned back into the cute kid who follows her brother and his mates around. I left that girl here a long time ago and had no plans of picking her back up … guess my heart had other ideas.