Page 34

AVERY

I wrench open the heavy glass door to Chachi’s and step out of the blustery cold, into the warm confines of the restaurant. With a shiver, I shake the snow off my shoulders as my gaze scans the row of booths to my left until I spot the girls, the scent of Mexican food making my stomach grumble.

Liz peeks her head up and smiles, so I give a little wave and make a beeline toward them. Shrugging off my heavy winter coat before I slide into the booth, I note the girls’ attention to my left and follow their line of sight to the televisions above the bar where I note the news story with a sigh.

“I talked to Chris today,” Charlotte frowns, toying with the straw in her ice water, “and he said you can smell the snow in the air.”

Brynn nods. “Jace said locals are scrambling. The news stations are showing clips of bare store shelves across the city. It’s crazy.”

The waitress appears between them, lowering a basket of tortilla chips onto the table, along with a couple small bowls of salsa. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asks, her gaze on me.

“Sure. I’ll take a pitcher of margaritas and a water.” The waitress hesitates for only a moment before nodding and hurrying off.

“You lucky bitch,” Charlotte mutters when the waitress returns a moment later, placing a glass in front of me, along with the pitcher of golden liquid before she disappears again.

With a grin, I pour myself a glass. “Do you really think I’m going to drink all of this myself?” I ask, glancing up at her with a smile.

“A communal marg?” Charlotte grins. “I like the way you think.”

Laughing, I take a sip of the tart liquid, enjoying the slight burn of the tequila before I pass it along. “What are they saying about the flights?” I ask, glancing around the table at the others.

The boys have been gone for two days, and already, campus is buzzing with talk of the oncoming storm and whether it’ll affect the championship.

“They’re as good as canceled if they get the weather they’re expecting,” Liz says.

“News outlets are predicting there will be nothing going in and out of the region starting tomorrow afternoon if Houston gets hit with snow,” Samantha clarifies.

“The only prayer we have of keeping our flights tomorrow night and making it there is if the snow completely misses them and every weather expert from here to the West Coast is totally wrong about this storm.”

I grimace, plucking a tortilla chip from the basket and dipping it in some salsa before popping it into my mouth.

“We could drive?” I suggest. Swallowing, I elaborate.

“I mean, we’re from the north, so we’re used to snow.

Even if the roads are bad, we could handle it.

We’ll just go slow once we hit bad weather. ”

Brynn shakes her head. “I thought about that, but it’s six-thirty here.

By the time we got our stuff together and got on the road, it would be after seven, and it takes more than nineteen hours to get to Houston.

Even if we drove straight there with zero stops and no bad weather, we’d get there tomorrow after the storm is supposed to hit, and if they’re right about the weather, it’ll completely shut down the highways.

In that case, we’d be stuck in the middle of who-knows-where.

It’s just too much of a risk.” She shrugs.

“Besides, protective parent here,” Brynn says, raising a hand, “and when I mentioned driving, my parents freaked. Technically, they can’t tell me what to do anymore, but I had some .

. . stuff happen in the past, so I try to avoid worrying them if I can.

Traveling across the country worries them enough without imagining me getting in a car crash or stranded in the snow. ”

“Damn.” I bite my lip, thinking. There has to be another way.

“I can’t believe we’re going to miss it,” Charlotte moans as she stabs a tortilla chip with a knife.

Brynn slouches in her seat, mirroring Charlotte’s sentiment in her expression.

“I was so excited for this road trip, but I really hate this for you guys,” Liz says. “I know how badly you wanted to watch your boys win the championship in person.”

All four of my friends continue to scowl down at the table while I rack my brain for a solution. “What about other flights out? Maybe there’s something tonight,” I suggest.

Brynn’s expression brightens, then dims again. “Eh, it’s been fifteen years since the Griffins played a National Championship game. I’m sure half the state already thought of that.”

“We should check. Just to be sure,” I say, but Charlotte’s already on it, sliding her phone from her pocket and tapping the screen.

All of us fall silent, passing around the margarita and snacking on chips while she searches until she finally glances up from her phone with a sigh. “Forget it. There’s nothing. The only thing left is one flight that leaves tonight at ten-thirty, but it’s not doable.”

“Why not?” I frown.

“For one, it’s a straight flight, first class.”

Brynn winces. “How much?”

Charlotte’s eyes widen as she says, “Nearly nineteen hundred a piece.”

Samantha whistles beside her.

“Not to mention, there are only three seats left, and it leaves in a couple hours,” she adds.

“The three of you should go,” Samantha says, motioning between me, Charlotte, and Brynn.

“Absolutely,” Liz says, beaming. “Hurry up and snag those tickets and get out of here.”

“But what about you guys?” I ask.

“What about us?” Liz waves off my concern. “We’ll watch it from here, but your boys are playing. You have to be there.”

“I mean, technically Damon isn’t?”

“He is.” Liz rolls her eyes and shoots me a playful smile. “Even if we didn’t all know you guys kissed and had a moment the other night, I saw the way he was looking at you on our double date. That boy is definitely still in love with you.”

I feel heat creep to my cheeks as Charlotte clears her throat. “Um, I don’t disagree, but are we forgetting about the little fact that these seats are nearly two grand and we’re broke-ass college students?”

Liz glances over at Samantha, who chews on her lip before suggesting, “Liz and I can get refunds for our tickets and give you the money toward yours.”

“Aw, you would do that?” Brynn clutches her hands to her chest while Liz nods enthusiastically alongside Samantha.

“In a heartbeat.” Liz reaches across the table to squeeze Brynn’s hand.

“That’s really sweet,” Charlotte says before she sighs and adds, “But even then, that’s only a little over seven hundred dollars toward three first-class seats. That’s not nearly enough to make up the difference.”

Liz’s expression falls to the margarita. “Back to square one,” she mumbles.

“Looks like the only fallback plan we have is to pray like hell they don’t get this stupid snowstorm they’re predicting.” Charlotte sighs, reaching for the margarita to take a long pull.

I sit in silence, shifting in my seat as my thoughts churn.

Either the girls don’t know who I am, or they’ve been discreet about it, because I certainly haven’t volunteered the information.

Once people find out you’re the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the country, they tend to look at you differently.

They tend to want things or have certain expectations, and for once in my life, I’ve had the opportunity to simply enjoy being treated as their equal, just another one of the girls.

Still, a friend is only as good as their secrets, and we’ll never be close unless they know me? all of me?including the parts I like least. I want the kind of friendship where secrets don’t feel like burdens but bridges to better understanding, and where being known, fully and deeply, doesn’t scare them away and instead, pulls them closer.

But what I’m about to do means doing the one thing I despise most, the one thing I said I wouldn’t. I’m going to have to use my parents’ money and connections.

What will they think when they look at the credit card statement and see I’ve charged flights to watch Damon play after warning me to stay away from him? How will they react after telling them I didn’t want their money?

“I know a way we could easily get the money to go,” I blurt.

Swallowing, I glance around me and meet their eyes, feeling somewhat foolish for the nerves twisting my stomach in knots. Telling them about myself should be easy. Instead, it feels like peeling back skin—raw, vulnerable, and exposed.

“Um, robbing a bank isn’t an option,” Charlotte quips.

I huff out a laugh along with the others. Little does she know that getting the money would be as easy as breathing. All I’d have to do is take the platinum Amex my father gifted me when I was fourteen and charge the three flights to his account. In minutes, we’d secure our seats to Houston.

Six grand is a drop in the bucket to my father.

It’s play money and spare change. When I finally decided to transfer colleges and win Damon back, I vowed to myself never to rely on my name or the Astor fortune again.

I borrowed money for this year’s tuition and worked at Java the Hutt for all of my extra expenses, including my coach seat to Houston.

Relying on them again means giving them back a piece of their power and control.

And I’ve already seen once how quickly their grip on my life could destroy me and my happiness. I have zero desire to do it again.

But Damon asked me to come and watch him play, and I promised I would.

And even though he might understand the circumstances have changed, I can’t bear the thought of letting him down again, of disappointing him.

I want to be there like I promised. I want to watch him take the field at NRG Stadium and pull out a win.

And I want to be the first one to congratulate him, to plant a kiss on his sweaty cheek like old times.