“Fuck,” she whispers and I look toward the dining room to see Jordy at the keg, but he’s not alone. A girl I recognize as Lily’s sorority sister is hanging all over him. “Now, Paige, we need to go now,” she pleads.
Jesus. Her mascara is running in lines down her face, her nose is red, her eyes are puffy. She’s in worse shape than I am. And yes, I’m still partially covered in a stranger’s vomit and I’m freezing my ass off thanks to that impromptu shower, but Lily needs me.
I take her elbow with my clean hand and nod my head to the right. “Let’s take the back door. Do you have your phone?”
She nods. Mine’s with my ID in my back pocket, which is still pretty dry, thank goodness. I take one last glance at the stairs, but there’s no sign of Spencer, or a towel, or a dry T-shirt, or anything. “All right, Lily, let’s get out of here.”
Lily takes my words seriously and hauls ass out the door, down the street and to the corner. I’m about to remind her that my legs are shorter than hers and that speed walking in four-inch heels is not an easy thing to do, but she’s halfway across the street when I step off the curb and—dammit! “Lily! Wait a damn minute!” I holler, bending down to get a good look at my shoe. “Shit.”
“What’s up?” she calls over her shoulder.
“I broke my damn heel chasing after you,” I grumble, righting myself and clip-clopping across the street.
“Oh, Paige. I’m sorry. I kind of walk with a purpose when I’m angry and—holy hell, what happened to you?”
“It’s a long story,” I tell her. It’s fair to say that as a twenty-one-year-old junior at Moo U, I’ve been to a lot of parties in the past few years. It’s also true that I’ve spent the weekend sleeping off a hangover in some shady basements, and that there are a few occasions on which I don’t remember exactly how I got home. But hobbling down the road soaking wet at midnight?
Yeah, I’ll remember this one for sure.
The night started out with so much promise: a cute dress, flawless makeup, good friends, and a party at the hockey house. What could go wrong?
A lot, it turns out.
“Why are guys such fucking assholes?” Lily asks in between bouts of hiccups.
“Not all guys are, Lil,” I say gently, though I’m hardly an authority on the subject. Most of my exesareassholes.
Lily keeps crying as we make our way back to our dorm. She’s mumbling words like “douchebag” and “rat-bastard” and “cheating ass-nugget.” I try to keep the smile off my face, but she’s not nearly this creative with words when she’s sober, so it’s hard not to laugh.
She’s not the only one who was unlucky in love tonight. I saw the horror in Spencer’s eyes as he sprayed me and the mascara ran down my cheeks. Dammit. Just when I thought I might be the girl of his dreams, it turns out I’ll likely be starring in his nightmares.
It’s probably for the best anyway. Yeah, he’s totally hot. And funny in a dorky kind of way. I’ve seen him around— who wouldn't recognize him? He’s a hotshot goalie who’s headed for the NHL. And he’s easy on the eyes, if you're into tall, buff guys.
But beauty fades and I’m not one to be lured in by a handsome face or gorgeous eyes, or rock-hard abs. Though I do send up a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of Jenga and whoever that girl was for making him take his shirt off.
I don’t think I was the only one who wanted to take our make-out session to the next level.
I guess I’ll never know, since he ditched me in the kitchen and never returned. What the hell? Did he really mean to ditch me there, standing in a puddle like that? I mean, I kind of thought we were starting something. If he wasn’t feeling it, fine, but to just run upstairs and not return? That’s pretty harsh. And ok, Lily and I left shortly after, but not right away. There was plenty of time for him to grab a towel and toss it my way.
Finally, we make our way back to our dorm and up to the fourth floor. And I feel zero shame taking the elevator. As soon as I step inside, I peel off my shoes and feel immediate relief.
“You gonna be okay?” I ask Lily.
“Yeah, I just need to sleep and forget the last twenty-four hours ever happened.”
“I’ve been there. You know I’m just a text away if you need me.” At her nod, I walk down the hall to my door and let myself in, grateful that Emma’s still at the party. I love my Emma, but the peace and quiet is lovely.
Our room is more of a suite, and I must admit, it’s lovely. Our door opens into the common room that has a couch, a comfy chair, and lots of big fluffy pillows. There’s a table my parents gave us and a couple of funky lamps we scored at the thrift shop. It’s all soft greys and blues in this room, and I can already feel myself calming down as I walk inside.
My room is to the left, and Emma’s is to the right, with our shared bathroom in between.
Some people hate the dorms and can’t wait to move off campus, but I’m not one of them. I love that there are people everywhere and there’s always something going on.
A hot shower does wonders for my mood. I’m too tired for a deep-conditioning treatment or a moisturizing face mask, and those are words I never thought I’d say.
As I charge my phone, I see missed calls from my mom and my brother Jake. They’ll both be asleep now, so I’ll deal with all that in the morning. There’s another missed call from a number I don’t know, but it’s a Vermont area code. It’s not Lily, or any of the girls from my floor. It’s probably spam or a wrong number, I think as I crawl into bed and close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
3
