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“Seriously, guys, these are not made for people who are six foot one,” she moans as she settles herself on one of the arm chairs. “I have the camel toe of the century. I’m going to lose circulation to my clit.”

Jane and I burst out laughing. Paulina rolls her eyes and adjusts one of the floor fans we have going to keep the living room from turning into a sauna while the two of us sit on the couch clutching our stomachs.

“That’d be quite the medical feat,” Jane says once we’ve calmed down and earned ourselves a few glares from Paulina. “I think you look great. Here, have a beer. It will help.”

She passes her one of the bottles of red ale from a Nova Scotia brewer. Normally we stick to beer that’s more suited to a student budget, but red ale seemed perfect for celebrating our UNS spirit.

I’ve also been using the beer to placate my panic over whatever the fuck happened with Becca in the locker room today. If tonight’s going to be our one exception to the team-wide alcohol ban we all swear ourselves to until November, I’m sure as hell taking advantage of the chance to drink my worries away.

“Maybe it will help restore some feeling to my labia,” Paulina grumbles before taking a sip.

I nearly spit out my own sip. I fight to swallow it down and end up caught in something between a laugh attack and a choking fit. Jane gives me the side-eye.

“Perhaps you should slow down there, eh? That’s your second already, right?”

She is right. The last time I drank in this household, it ended with me nearly falling to my death during a botched robbery interrupted by Becca herself. If today’s Locker Room Incident has proved anything, it’s that I can’t be trusted not to embarrass myself around her drunk or sober.

There’s not much else of you left to see.

I said that to her. I literally said that to her.

Iz comes thundering down the stairs just as I’m making a silent pledge to be more responsible tonight. They’ve already got their bright red high top Jordans on, and they’ve somehow managed to make sparkly booty shorts look delightfully butch.

“HOLA, CHICAS! ARE Y’ALL READY TO PARTAYYYY?”

The rest of us cheer as they do a somewhat successful attempt at moonwalking across the living room before kicking back in the chair next to Paulina.

“You want an ale?” Jane asks. “We should head out soon, but you have time to drink one.”

“Fuck yeah!” They lean forward and take the offered bottle. “No ragrets, right?”

I groan. “Maybe we should...direct the no ragrets energy in a different way tonight?”

Iz and Paulina gasp.

“Who are you? Jane?”

Then Jane gasps.

“I am offended.” She turns to me. “You did say you wanted to make this a year to remember.”

She raises her bottle, and I suck it up and join in the toast. I did want to make this a year to remember. I probably should have specified whether I wanted to remember it as triumphant or disastrous.

We all finish our beers in time to head for the sports bar. Even with the sun slipping down in the sky, it hasn’t cooled off much outside. I can already feel sweat gathering at the waistband of my shorts. In Paulina’s defence, they aren’t very comfortable.

“How you doing, Hopey?” Jane asks me. She grabs my arm and links it through hers while Paulina and Iz continue their own conversation a few feet ahead of us.

“Currently, I’m asking myself why the team decided to go with sequins.”

She shimmies her hips as she walks. “Because sparkles are fun.”

I laugh and bump her hip with mine.

“But seriously,” she urges, “you okay? Training camp has been so intense that I feel like our bestie rhythm is a wee bit out of sync.”

I grin. “You know I love it when you say things like ‘wee bit.’ You’re the cutest.”

“No you.” She rests her head on my shoulder for a few seconds.