Page 42 of Palm South University: Season 2
IT’S TIMES LIKE THESEwhen I wish my life had a soundtrack.
I totally need a bad ass rock chick ballad playing right now as I strut up to the Omega Chi Beta house, bottle of Maker’s in hand, looking completely unlike the normal me but in the best way possible.
When I was younger, I used to love to play dress up — it’s part of the reason I enjoyed theatre so much when I did it in high school. For a while, you get to step out of your skin and be anyone you want to be. Tonight, I’m a too-hot-to-touch vixen with a mission to prove everyone wrong.
And there’s something incredibly powerful about letting yourself be everything you’re not.
My black, strappy heels click on the sidewalk as I take my last step before pushing my way through the door, but then it’s too loud to hear my steps anymore. The house is packed, music blaring, students crammed in every open space. Hoisting the bottle of whiskey over my head, I snake my way through the crowd searching for the girls. The weird thing is, people don’t ignore me this time. In fact, it’s almost like the sea is parting as I maneuver through the crowd. Those who know who I am are staring, mouth open, while those who don’t assess me with a mixture of curiosity and desire.
I smile.
When I spot Ashlei and Bo dancing, I adjust my path and clear my throat just as I reach them, popping a hip and holding out the bottle. “Who’s up for a shot?”
It’s Ashlei who reacts first — jaw dropping, eyes bulging. “Oh. My God.”
Bo is still somewhat dancing, but she halts when she realizes it’s me. “Holy shit.Roomie?!”
I give a little twirl, letting their eyes run over my exposed skin. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I could pull this off with anything in my own closet, so I let Jess dress me before she finally gave in and went to the doctor. Even with a red, runny nose — the girl has style. I watch as Bo takes in my carefully teased hair and dramatic makeup, complete with smoky eye, winged eyeliner and bright red lips. Ashlei focuses more on the outfit — painted on black jeans ripped from the knee to the upper thigh, black sweetheart crop top and my personal favorite touch — sick black leather jacket. Black on black on black.
“Holy fuck. I kind of want to lick you. Can I lick you?” Bo asks and Ashlei smacks her arm, almost as if she wishes she was the one Bo wanted to lick.Weird.“What?! Look at her!”
“I am. Jesus, Cassie. What’s the occasion?”
Confidence is not a virtue I possess, but it’s almost like it came along with the heels and makeup tonight. I know it’ll be gone again in the morning, but I’m rocking it tonight.
Cocking a brow, I smile wider. “It’s the fucking Fratalina Wine Mixer, am I right?!”
They both throw their fists in the air and cheer.
“Fuck yeah it is!”
“Not sure if your intention was to make little boys cry tonight but if it was, you’re spot on.” Ashlei shakes her head. “You’re going to be fighting them off all night.”
I smirk. “My only goal right now is to finish this handle. You two want to help me get started?”
“You know this is a wine mixer… meaning you’re supposed to get sloshed on wine,” Ashlei points out.
Shrugging, I twist the top off the bottle and tilt it to my lips with a wink. “Whiskey works faster.”
Bo and Ashlei exchange looks as I take three hits from the bottle without flinching, even though the shit burns like hell. It’s not that I never drink, it’s just that I usually stick to a few beers. Tipsy is about as far as I’ve ever gone, but that all changes tonight.
Realizing Grayson isn’t anywhere near them as I wipe the corners of my mouth, careful not to smear my lipstick, I frown. “Did Grayson not show?”
Ashlei chews her cheek, her fingers twisting in her long blonde hair. “Sorry, Cassie. We waited an extra twenty minutes before leaving the house but we didn’t hear from him.”
My heart sinks a little. I set Grayson up to get here with Ashlei so I could finish getting ready and surprise him, too, tonight. Before the disappointment can wash in too much, I take another shot and offer the bottle to the girls, but they both decline and hold up their red plastic cups filled with white wine.
“Wine pong?” I ask, nodding toward the tables set up outside. This jacket is just as hot as it makes me look, and luckily it’s chilly outside tonight. It’s probably the last cold night we’ll have until after fall, so we might as well enjoy it.
The girls agree and we set up quickly, reeling in some random Omega Chi pledge to be my partner against Bo and Ashlei. I sink the first cup without even hitting the rim and that’s when I feel the whiskey settle in, the warmth spreading from my stomach to my toes.
I can feel it, tonight’s going to be a good night.
MATH AND SCIENCE HAVE ALWAYSbeen my strengths in school, which means I should have seen this coming.
Half a bottle of whiskey plus countless plastic cups of wine equals a very drunk, very smiley Cassie McBee.
Still, my makeup is holding up and I’m keeping myself together, heels and all, like a champ. The random Omega Chi pledge is actually a freshman like me. His name is Todd and we’ve been running the pong table ever since we stepped up to it. When we win our eighth straight game in a row, I climb onto the table on my knees and swing my hair around to the music, thumbing the strings of an air guitar like I’m Jimi Hendrix as the crowd gathered around us cheers.