Page 10

Lola

I was not even out of the shower for thirty seconds when Oliver called asking for a ride to Byron’s house.

My dear friend Indy made the mistake of telling her boyfriend that I was coming tonight but didn’t want to drink much, so he could plan on me being the designated driver.

Marcus then texted my brother who was looking for a ride.

The freshmen are expected to be at the pre-game and he asked if I could bring him and the other freshman on the team to the party.

I look in the mirror, something is missing. I may have been guilted into going to this party, but you best believe that I want to look hot walking into it.

A deep red leather skirt sits just below my belly button, paired with a black lace plunging neckline bodysuit.

Jewelry!

The jewelry box my Nonna got me for my eighth birthday sits on my desk. The ballerina spins and the simple notes it plays carry through my room.

I pick through my earrings, and when I find my medium size gold rope hoops, I snap them into place. An Italian horn, gold nameplate and gold link chain lay perfectly against the daring neckline. I added a few bracelets and some rings. Finishing the look with spray perfume on each wrist.

Margo, Indy and their teammate Izzy are waiting in the kitchen– road sodas in hand.

“Ya ready to go, Pips?” Margo asks before sipping her hard seltzer.

When I slip on my heels, I’m still the shortest in the room. I hate it. My friends all have three inches on me and they are all barefoot.

“Let’s go, kids,” I yell to my friends, my body halfway out the door. “I have a bunch of overly eager drunk freshmen to pick up.”

Margo selects the playlist, setting the mood with Party In the U.S.A . The ride to campus is short and Miley is hitting the final note right as we pull into the parking lot in front of the Hickey. Five gigantic man-children are waiting on the curb.

There’s a tapping at my window, and when I start to put it down, my brother pops his head through whispering, “Thanks for picking us up.” He looks guilty like we are both going to get in trouble for sneaking out.

“Of course, Ollie.” I ruffle his hair. “Get your big ass in the trunk. I don’t know why everyone I hang out with is a giant,” I retort.

When everyone is safely tucked into the back of my car, I pull away. The girls are picking the guys’ brains on what their first week of college has been like.

It’s funny to think back to that time. Not knowing anyone, I was as desperate to leave who I pretended to be back in Philadelphia.

I met Charlotte at the barn before school even started.

We might go to different schools, but I knew I had at least one friend in town.

Ivy and I instantly clicked and somewhere down the line I gained a group of sisters in the basketball team.

Oliver is already the drunkest of the group.

I think it’s liquid courage that tells him it’s a good idea to try and flirt with Izzy.

She is so sweet when she tells him there is no way in hell she would do anything with a freshman.

Even if she would, I know she wouldn’t hook up with my little brother… at least I hope not.

I pull right into the driveway, claiming a spot behind Marcus’ truck.

My heart sinks a little when I think about the times I spent here with Byron when Marcus and Jalen were at my house, and it’s anyone’s guess where Aaron was.

We’d cuddle up on the couch with Mia, and I’d read while he watched hockey.

It was so simple but so genuine. I felt like I could be myself, and Byron really liked who I was.

“Let’s go, Lo!” Oliver yells, already halfway to the front door with a hard seltzer from one of my friends in hand.

I turn towards my friends, “Who gave him that drink? If we find him passed out somewhere tonight,” I shake my head. I love my little brother but I’m not his babysitter, “I’m blaming you guys.”

Indy chuckles and throws her arm around my shoulder. “Come on, Lola, it’s a right of passage to pass out drunk at a pre-game. It’s just something to cross off the college bucket list.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t want to admit it, but there might be a picture out there of me with some drool dribbling down my chin.

The freshmen are the first through the door, and their teammates erupt in a cheer for them as they enter the house. I stride in right after, wearing my faux confidence like a protective shield.

My brother is somehow already throwing back a shot. I’m about to ask him if he thinks that’s a good idea when my eyes are pulled across the room. It’s like Byron and I have some kind of magnetic pull toward each other. Even when he’s cuddled up on the couch with a leggy blonde.

My heart sinks, and even though I want to look away, I can’t. I watch his hand travel under the hem of her shirt. I guess I am a glutton for torture.