On a Tuesday (One Week 1)

“What are the bets about?”

“If I tell you, you’ll disown me as your best friend. Besides, that’s cheating and I promised Eric I’d play fair.”

“You can’t tell me the bets you’ve already won, then?”

“Oh, sure.” She walked over to me and adjusted my necklace. “The first bet was that you would make him wait at least a month before giving him your phone number. The second bet was that you would start going to all his games.”

“And the third?”

She smiled. “That you would continue to deny that he was your boyfriend when everyone on this campus can see that but you.”

“And the fourth and fifth bets?”

“Nice try.” She laughed. “I’ll never tell you those.”

Before I could ask her something else, someone knocked on our door.

“Um, Charlotte and Nadira?”

“Yeah?” Nadira said. “The door is open.”

The door opened and Tracy—the girl who lived directly across from us, stepped inside.

“I have a question about the alcohol policy.” Her voice was a whisper. “If we’re caught drinking, it’s a simple citation, right?”

“Right.” Nadira crossed her arms.

“What happens if someone is passed out and they can’t wake up? Like, what if they’ve been out cold for like, four hours? Is that a citation as well, or do we have to call 911?”

“What the—Are you shitting me?” Nadira picked up her phone and called 9-1-1. “Which room is it?”

“Nine twelve.”

Nadira requested an ambulance, and I sent a Code Blue text to the Campus Health Emergency Line. I messaged the other Lothrop RAs and asked them to come to our floor ASAP.

“The medics will be here with a team in three minutes.” Nadira grabbed a kit from our cabinet. “How much did she drink and what type of alcohol was it?”

“I don’t know how much she drank.” Tracy’s cheeks flushed red. “It was Everclear.”

“I love Everclear! Is there any of that left?”

“Nadira.” I shot her a look. “Really?”

“It’s worth asking.” She headed toward the door. “There are plenty of RAs on hand tonight, so we can all handle this without you, Charlotte. Don’t you dare think about using this as an excuse to get out of going to his party.”

“But—” I spotted a group of other RAs running down the hall, shouting our rehearsed codes for instances like this. “It’s our floor. Aren’t we both required to do the paperwork?”

She shut the door without saying another word, and I considered her threat for all of five seconds. I scrolled through my contacts and called Grayson.

“Yes?” He answered on the first ring.

“Um hi.” I still couldn’t believe how a single word from his deep voice managed to turn me on. “I wanted to let you know that there’s been an emergency drinking situation in my dorm, so um...”

“So, you’re using that as an excuse to get out of coming to my party?” There was a smile in his voice.

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not at all.” He laughed. “Are you dressed?”

“Yeah. I was going to catch the next shuttle.”

“Don’t. I’ll be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.” He ended the call and sent me a text message.

GRAYSON: Nadira suggested that I should be ready to pick you up in case you tried to get out of coming. You have great friends.

I have traitor friends.

I laughed and looked over my makeup one last time before grabbing a jacket and heading to the elevator.

A team of medics rushed by when I made it to the lobby, so I sent Nadira a text.

ME: Please tell me she’s still breathing.

NADIRA: She is, but she’ll need her stomach pumped. AGAIN. I called her parents and filed a violation report since we let it slide last time. Ugh. (On the plus side, I confiscated their Everclear and took it to our room. They had THREE bottles. #winning)

ME: Good. I think we should file violation reports and call parents on the first serious offense from here on out to prevent any more recklessness. (You are ridiculous. Be generous and donate one to me.)

“Excuse me.” A brunette in blue scrubs tapped my shoulder. “Are you Charlotte Taylor?”

“Yeah,” I said. “If you’re with the campus health team, you can talk with the RA-on duty. She’s on the ninth floor and her name is Nadira Hill.”

“I’m not with campus health.” She looked me up and down. “But I am someone you should know. I tried adding you on Facebook recently, but I guess spending all of your time with Grayson Connors means you’re too busy to be friends with people you go to college with, huh?”

I took a step back. My sudden surge of Facebook friend requests was now numbered at a staggering two thousand, but I thought it was a glitch, so I’d let them remain unanswered. If I honestly had to guess, I would’ve said the newfound interest was the result of me being named Pitt’s Pre-Law Student of the Year, not hanging with Grayson.