Page 22 of The Love Playbook

Chapter 7

CHARLOTTE

When Sunday evening rolls around and I say goodbye to my mother, I can’t get out of the house fast enough. On the ride back to campus, the stress of the weekend melts away, leaving behind an oily film I can’t shake. One I know will last long after my return to normalcy, which is exactly why I need a night out with the girls. Drinks, dancing, girl talk, anything that will help me forget that my father’s engaged and my mother is on the cusp of another depressive episode.

The second I get everything settled into my room and discuss the game plan with Samantha, I try Brynn and Elizabeth’s room, relieved to find that it’s open and they’re back from their weekend away. “Thank god you’re here. We’re going out,” I say, ushering Brynn from her perch at her desk chair.

“What? Where?”

“I don’t care. Anywhere where there’s music, booze, and dancing. But no boys. They just cause drama, and my birthday weekend sucked, so I need to have some fun.”

My gaze flickers over Brynn’s choice of attire. She’s wearing baggy sweats and one of Jace’s AAU T-shirts.

I wrinkle my nose and motion up and down her body. “Uh, yeah, the outfit’s gonna need some work.”

“Did you just get in?” Elizabeth asks from behind me.

“Yes. And Samantha’s on board, so get your hot asses dressed,” I say, slapping Brynn’s ass.

Brynn squeals and jumps toward her dresser, pausing in front of it with a guilt-ridden expression. “Umm . . .” She winces, playing with her hands in front of her chest. “Is it a bad time to tell you that when I stopped by Jace’s earlier, I promised him we’d head to Bradd’s for the night?”

“What? No!” I cry. “If Jace is going, that means their little man-crew is going, which also means Chris will be there, and I cannot see Chris right now.” I make a slashing motion with my hands, trying to rein in the amount of crazy I’m feeling.

“Why? What did Chris do?”

I sigh and slump forward. “This conversation requires alcohol. What time did you tell the boys we’re going out?”

“I told Jace we’d head out when you got here.”

“Fabulous.” I smile. “Don’t tell him I got here, and let’s just go.”

Brynn bites her lower lip, glancing over at Elizabeth who raises her hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me. He’s your boyfriend.”

Brynn grunts, and I can practically see the war in her eyes, torn between being the friend I need and a good girlfriend.

“Please?” I clasp my hands out in front of myself. “Just give me an hour without the boys. There’s nothing wrong with that. Right, Liz?”

“I mean, don’t think an hour would hurt. Just tell Jace you have an errand to run with the girls, and you’ll meet him at Bradd’s in an hour.”

Brynn lifts a shoulder, then drops it. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Thank god!” I clap my hands together.

I need my girls. And enough shots of tequila to numb my brain.

“So, is this a trolling-for-cute-guys kind of night?” Elizabeth asks, because she’s almost always on the prowl for Mr. Perfect.

I scrunch my nose. “Girls only. Definitely.”

Normally I’d be up for a nice make-out sesh with a campus hottie, but not tonight. Tonight is about dancing my ass off with the ladies, taking shots, and forgetting about my father’s impending nuptials and the comatose look on my mother’s face as I left her this evening.

Tonight is about proving I’m not my mother and never will be. That I don’t need a man. I’m an independent woman with friends who care about me and an amazing social life when I want it. Someone who knows how to let loose and have fun. Who won’t let life get her down, even when times are tough.

With any luck, Jace and his cronies will decide not to show at Bradd’s, and we’ll have all night to ourselves. And if they do show up and Chris is with them, I’ll just have to pretend he doesn’t exist. Not too hard to do, if you ask me.

“We leave in ten.” I raise both hands and wiggle my fingers. “So work quickly. We’re on the clock!”

Twenty minutes later, when our little party of four walks into Bradd’s, heads turn, and I really can’t blame all the poor schmucks here because we look amazing.