Pete just stares at me. “The crisper? Like the drawer where you keep vegetables?”
“Yep.”
Pete takes a seat and continues folding, while I keep count of my crunches in my head.
“Seriously, Van, if you need to read, just stay in. I’ll handle Ollie. Your grades come first, and you’ve been working your ass off lately.”
“Have I? It feels like Josie’s doing all the work. She makes these little organizers for me, breaks everything down into chunks. She even reads all the books I’m reading. Besides, this is Wednesday, my one tutoring-free night. I’ll bug out early and come back here to read. Deal?”
“That’s a solid plan, but are you sure you wanna come out? Five minutes ago, you were bitching about it.” Pete holds up the shirt he’s been searching for like it’s a trophy. It looks like all his other gray t-shirts, but this one must be his favorite, because he yanks off the one he’s been wearing, slips this one over his head, then smoothes it down and checks himself in the mirror.
I let out a low whistle and he flips me off. He’s probably right. I should take the offered out and hang back tonight. I could listen to my book and dictate some notes. But you know what? No. I want to feel like myself again. And Josie has obviously moved on and wants nothing to do with me except what the school requires her to, so why shouldn’t I have fun? Hell, I was having a good time at Wolfie’s with her the other night, even though I was basically spilling my guts. And what did she do? As soon as anyone even hinted that we were back together, she ran out of the bar as fast as she could.
“Nope. I’m gonna have fun tonight. Let off some steam, dance a little. Hell, I haven’t hooked up in way too fucking long. It’s gonna be a great fucking night, Santos. You with me?”
My best friend knows me too well. He sees past the bullshit I’m telling myself, but doesn’t call me on it.
“Am I with you? Where the hell else would I be?”
An hour later, I’m nursing my second lukewarm beer and wondering when I can get the hell out of here. This used to be my scene, my fucking life source.
It’s not a bad party. It’s packed, but that’s a good sign. The guys are having fun, and the LAX house is way nicer than ours. I can go upstairs without having to skip the steps that are rotting out, so that’s kinda nice.
“You want a margarita?” Ollie practically shouts in my ear. “The beer tastes like piss, so I brought my own provisions.” He opens up a backpack that’s basically a minibar. It’s cool as shit, I’ve got to admit, but I’m not feeling tequila right now.
I shake my head and Ollie looks at me. “Van? You still in there? What the hell happened to you? You used to be up for anything, now you’re all mopey and shit. And you’re always at the library. Dude, no one needs to study that much.”
His words don’t hurt, but that’s just because I know he doesn’t really mean them. Santos is the only person on this campus who knows just how hard school is for me, and there’s a reason for that. I want to be known as the guy who comes in clutch, the one you rely on when the clock is running down and the other team’s got the upper hand. I don’t want my team to know me as anything other than totally capable.
“I’m here, right?” I laugh. “That’s gotta count for something.”
Ollie just shakes his head. “That counts for shit. But you can make it up to me. Wanna know how?”
Jesus. I have a feeling I’m going to be adding to the cock-and-balls mural on our kitchen floor. “Anything you need, Olls. What’ll it be?”
“See those hot girls over there?”
There must be a hundred women in this room. And they are all hot. None of them are half as hot as—nope. I’m shutting that shit down right now. “Yeah, Olls,” I say. “I see them.”
“Let’s dance with them. But if you want to hook up, you take the blondes, ok?”
I shoot my friend a look. “You allergic to blondes all the sudden?”
“Something like that,” Ollie grumbles before making his way across the room and holding an arm out for each of the brunettes.
That’s when it dawns on me. Booker’s sister, Fallon, is blonde, and Ollie’s been crushing on her for years, and Book’s always been quick to shut it down. I don’t know if shit went down between them or what. I just know that three pretty blondes are staring at me like I’m the answer to their prayers.
I join them and right on cue, the bass starts pumping. I’m moving my body in time with the rhythm of the music, one hand on the shortest girl’s shoulder in front of me. The tallest girl is behind me, grinding her body into mine. The medium-sized girl cages us all in as she trails her fingers up and down the thin fabric of my t-shirt.
She’s getting handsy as the song changes over. The beat’s a little slower, but she’s not deterred.
“You’re Van, right?” she asks. “I’m Kya, and these are my friends Amber and Kirsten.” The other two girls giggle, but Kya’s not paying any attention to them. She’s looking at me and making breakfast plans for tomorrow morning. This girl is totally down to fuck, and she’s claimed me as her prize.
It should feel good.
I should be loving my life right now.
I should be looking for an empty room or asking her back to mine.
