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Then they all leave. Thad hoisting Candace over his shoulder.

Once the crowd disperses, Mason asks, “What are you doing next weekend?”

Shrugging, I reply, “Nothing at the moment. Why?”

Mason hands me my bag before he answers. “There’s a poetry slam and a step show. Y’all should come.”

My eyes light up. “As in the Divine Nine type of step show?”Because a bitch needs confirmation.

Smirking, he replies, “The very same.” And I squeal.

Plans for the weekend are locked and loaded. Even if I had something, I no longer have it. Black fraternity and sorority step shows just hit differently. The vibe, the energy, and the culture—a trifecta of different.

“Oh, I like this Eva,” Jade squeals before turning to Mason. “And you bet your ass we’ll be there.”

Mason gives me another once-over like he’s checking to see if I was lying about being okay. Then he nods and then strides away.

Whirling around to face me, Jade’s lips quirk into a smile. “Bitch, if he’s who tied you to your bed, then yes please.”

“I plead the fucking fifth,” I mutter and grab her hand, tugging her back to our dorm.

42

colter

“Coco,”Farrah squeals, running circles around Coop and me as Eva chases her. “Save meee.” Her infectious giggles make me smile.

“Aren’t you both too old to be playing tag?” I quip.

Their joint grunts are akin to giving me the proverbial middle finger.

“Blasphemy,” Eva squeals, ducking behind Coop.

“Utter rubbish,” Farrah adds.

Snorting, Coop says, “I don’t know whether I should condone this fuckery and let you two pretend that Colt and I are light posts, or if I should?—”

He doesn’t finish. Instead, he swoops in, scooping Farrah up before throwing her over his shoulder.

“Cooooppp,” Farrah shrieks, pounding on his back. “Put me down, you big oaf.”

Darting forward, Eva leaps in the air, attempting to save her best friend, but I catch her mid-flight, encasing her in my arms.

“And where do you think you’re going?” I challenge as she flails in my hold.

“Flag on the play… holding… roughing the passer… intentional foul,” Eva shouts.

Squirming, Eva tries to break free, but I cage her in, hooking one arm around her waist and the other to tickle her side. She bucks in my hold, but my grip stays firm. “Not so fast, Evie,” I mock.

I’m so focused on Eva, I miss the battle cry. “Hands off my best friend,” Farrah demands, seconds before a bombardment of accent pillows smacks me successively. One hits the side of my face so hard that I’m momentarily frozen. But that’s all the time she needs. Farrah hip checks me with such force that I’m jostled to the side. “Haha, sucker,” she gloats, snatching Eva from my grasp.

“Now, who has the flag on the play?” Coop chokes out between laughs.

Shrugging her shoulders, Farrah retorts,“‘Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.’”

“Not you quoting the Art of War to the self-proclaimed scholar of Sun Tzu,” Coop exclaims as his laughter morphs into wheezes.

Farrah sticks out her tongue before trotting out of the room with Eva at her side.