The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game 1)

ONE

“Cassie, are you almost ready?” my roommate, Melissa, yelled down the hall.

“Just give me one sec! I’m almost done,” I shouted.

I ran my fingers one last time through my stick-straight blonde hair, trying in vain to give it the appearance of volume or thickness. One final coat of mascara on my eyelashes and I’d be all set. The purple strappy top I was wearing really brought out the green in my eyes.

“Perfect,” I muttered to my reflection, admiring the way my low-cut jeans hugged the curves of my butt.

“If you’re so perfect, then let’s go!”

“Good God, woman. It’s not like we’re heading to the prom. ” I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall toward my stressed-out best friend. “It’s just a party. There is no late at a frat party, you know?” I leaned into the door frame, determined not to hurry.

“All the good guys will be taken. ” Melissa stuck her bottom lip out in the pout that she had perfected, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is a frat party, Meli. There are no good guys. ”

“I hate you. ” She frowned, twirling her shoulder-length wavy brown hair around her finger.

I smiled. “Good. Let’s go. ”

I tossed my arm around my pint-sized friend and headed out the front door, locking it behind us. I’d known Melissa since high school. She moved here right after we graduated, while I was forced to attend community college. “You have to take the same courses the first two years anyway. It’s much cheaper,” my mom had insisted. So I stayed close to home, while Melissa’s parents happily paid for all her expenses at Fullton State.

After two years of general education, I applied to three universities in Southern California and was accepted at all of them. I knew immediately which one I wanted to transfer to. Not only was my best friend at Fullton, but it also had one of the best photo communications programs in the state, with an award-winning student magazine and newspaper. And since my major was photography, the choice was easy.

Melissa’s parents insisted on getting an apartment for us to share and refused to let my parents pay for any of it. We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have an overabundance of cash the way Meli’s parents did. They told my folks that college tuition was expensive enough without all the extras and then they paid our rent a year in advance, including the summer. I remember my dad promising to pay them back during one of the many pre-moving discussions, and my eyes met Melissa’s with an all-knowing glance that the repayment would never really come to fruition.

Her parents had always been overly generous when it came to me. But then again, they were privy to the many times my dad had promised me something and then not delivered. On more than one occasion, Melissa’s mom’s was the shoulder I cried on and whose ears I vented my disappointment and frustrations to. I intended to start paying them back as soon as I graduated and opened my own photography business.

The night air was warm on my exposed skin as we walked the five blocks toward the fraternity house. “That top looks fierce on you,” Melissa complimented me with a slight smile.

“It’s cute, right?” I smiled, looking down at the formfitting top hugging my curves and accentuating my tiny waist. “You look as hot as ever. ” I winked before slapping her black-skirt-covered ass.

Melissa was truly beautiful. Her dark brown hair contrasted with the blue of her eyes, making it hard to look away from her at times. She honestly looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, with her stunning figure and flawless features. We were total opposites, what with my five-foot-eight-inch frame and disproportionate body shape. I used to joke and say that God put me together like a Mr. Potato Head toy. One piece for my butt, one for my waist, one for my boobs…all a mismatch of sizes.

But it worked on me.

And I worked it.

The sound of hip-hop music filled the air. “Ooooh, I love this song! Let’s dance!” I grabbed Melissa’s hand and dragged her along, jogging closer to the source of the music.

“You always want to dance. ” Melissa rolled her eyes. I’d smack those perfect blue eyes right off her face if I didn’t love her so damn much.

“Well, I’m a good dancer. And this butt of mine—oh, you know what it does. ” I started shaking my hips in the crowded driveway of the fraternity house.

“Oh, no. Please stop. ”

I laughed and slowed down my booty-shaking when I noticed the number of eyes ogling me. I hated being gawked at. I know, I know. I’m a fucking hypocrite. I scanned the crowd before suddenly stopping on the most delicious pair of chocolate-brown eyes watching me. The fact that the eyes belonged to one of the hottest faces I’d ever seen was merely a bonus. He ran his fingers through his black hair before resting them against his tanned, scruffy face. He smiled lazily at me and I felt my stomach flip.

Stupid stomach.

“No. Tell me you are not looking at him, Cassie. ” Melissa stepped in front of me, breaking the eye contact.

“Hey, move. ” But every direction I craned my neck, she blocked me with her annoying face.

“No freaking way. Don’t you know who that is?” She threw her hand in front of my eyes before I swatted it away.

“Obviously not, or we’d be dating. ” I hopped up to steal a peek over her head.