Page 21

TWENTY-ONE

lenni

“Hi, girlies!” Madison says when Jade and I step inside her sunny three-story townhouse.

Madison’s parents bought her this place as a freshman, somehow bypassing the school rules that all freshmen live on campus. While the rest of us were crammed like sardines in our twin XL beds in cement-block dorms, Madison was living her best life in an airy bedroom with a king-size bed, walk-in shower, and balcony. The girl’s idea of money problems is not being able to fit the wad of cash the ATM just spit out into her sleek leather wallet—she does her Neiman Marcus shopping in cash, so her dad won’t get on her case. But she’s never shown an ounce of snobbery, is uncompromisingly generous, and her parties are always lit.

“Happy Friday,” Madison says, bringing us two glasses of pink sparkling wine. Behind her, a chic white bar cart brims with expensive-looking bottles of booze, not that I’d know the difference, but everything Madison touches looks expensive.

“Girl, pink bubbly?” Jade raises an eyebrow. “Friday isn’t that happy.”

“It is today. Lincoln just invited me to party with him tomorrow night.” Lincoln is the football player that Madison has been chasing the last few weeks. “Lenni, you should ask Cam if he’s coming.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes and down half the glass of wine.

Madison looks confused.

Jade is quick to explain. “They went out the other night and he practically shoved her down a dark alley when he saw his friends coming.”

“Okay, he didn’t exactly?—”

“For all intents and purposes, he did!” Jade insists. “Dude even had me fooled into thinking he wasn’t a dirtbag. See, that’s why if you’re going to date a jock, better make it a dumb one.” She nods at Madison. “Lincoln’s a good choice.”

Madison looks at me, motherly concern on her face. “What the hell is his problem?”

“Either he’s embarrassed to be seen with me or he’s dating someone else.”

Jade shakes her head. “No chance that boy is embarrassed to be seen with you. You’re hot as hell. And now that you’ve stopped wearing clothing three sizes too big, everyone on campus knows it.”

“Oh, okay, so you think he has a girlfriend? Great. I’m a side piece.”

Jade laughs. “Honey, you can’t be a side piece until you’ve started fucking him.”

Madison nods gravely. “What was his explanation?”

“For what?” I ask.

“For getting all weird like that.”

I twist the wine glass in my fingers. “I didn’t ask.”

“Lenni!” she admonishes.

“What’s the difference? Whatever his reason, it can’t be something I want to hear.”

“He could have a hundred good reasons. You’re not even giving him a chance.”

I take a generous swallow of wine.

Madison gives me a sympathetic look. “You like the guy? Then you need to talk to him.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jade says. “If he wants her that much, he’ll come to her.”

Madison shakes her head, smiling. “Don’t take advice from this crazy. She’s such a game player.”

“Apparently so is Cam. Or just a player,” I say. “Can we talk about something else now?”

Jade shrugs. “I wouldn’t put it past him to be juggling multiple girls. Just because he’s intelligent and charming doesn’t mean he can’t be a scumbag. But a girlfriend? I’d have heard by now.”

“Totally agree.” Madison hastily refills our glasses as though if she gets enough alcohol in us, all will be well. “If he had a new girlfriend, she’d practically be a campus celebrity by now.”

I choose to believe them only because the idea of him having a girlfriend hurts too much.

It’s been three days since our ill-fated date, and I still haven’t grown the balls to confront Cam. I know the mature thing is to speak up, but that’s not how things worked in my house growing up. I’m more comfortable with the shut-your-mouth-and-endure model.

He’s texted me a couple times, innocent references to vanilla ice cream and the fact I still owe him a celebration meal since Shafer beat Reynolds. I left him on read for half a day, then gave short responses, but his ego wasn’t deterred. He asked to see me this weekend, and because I’m a coward I told him I don’t have much time for casual dating at the moment.

I haven’t heard from him since.

Now I’m caught in the confused, ugly headspace of trying to forget him while simultaneously wishing he’d find a way to win me back. I know Cam feels something for me and I know he’s attracted to me, I can’t deny that any longer. A few weeks ago, I’d have sworn he wouldn’t be caught dead dating some dorky journalism student, but every time I talk to him, he breaks another stereotype. Madison’s right; I didn’t give him a chance to explain himself. But I don’t want to face the task of hearing him out and, once again, having to decide whether to put my heart on the line.

“So, you and Lincoln...things are happening?” I ask Madison, mustering up some happiness for my friend. With the way things ended with her ex—the guy she thought she’d marry—it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her eyes light up over a man.

Madison tosses her sheet of blond hair over her shoulder. “We hooked up the other night. It was pretty tame, but I’m going to invite him to spend the night tomorrow after the party. He is so sexy, don’t you think?”

“I don’t get you two.” Jade shakes her head. “Suddenly losing your minds over a couple of meatheads. Remember how much fun we used to have with the guys from the engineering frat? When smart dudes let loose, they go all out.”

“You would know. Sam should be in MENSA,” I say.

Jade smiles, absorbing the compliment, and I feel a little stab of envy. It isn’t about Sam’s IQ or that he can let loose, it’s that Sam is hers. No question.

“So I need you girls at the party tomorrow night,” Madison says. “I’m meeting him there, and I can’t walk in alone.”

I shake my head. “I can’t do a party at the football house. What about Keeley and Shea?” Keeley and Shea are Madison’s roommates and classic party-loving sorority girls.

“Keeley went home for the weekend and Shea works late. And the party’s not at the football house, it’s at that big yellow house on the corner across from the liquor store.”

“The lacrosse guys,” Jade offers. As dismissive as she is of athletes, she certainly knows where all of them sleep. “We’ll definitely be there.”

Madison looks at me. “You have to face Cam in class anyway. At least if he’s at the party we’ll see if he brought a girl with him.”

That’s news I’d much rather receive secondhand. But she’s right, I have to face Cam soon.

“Yeah, and besides,” Jade adds, “I can’t wait to dress you in a low-cut top and watch that fuckhead weep.”

There’s no good reason to think I’ll see Cam tonight, but I’ve dressed for a run-in all the same. I’m rocking a smoky eye, the only makeup trick I’ve ever perfected, and Jade straightened my hair, then helped me pour myself into jeans, heels, and a silky black top with a plunging neckline.

“You’re beautiful, baby, but you need to wear a thong,” Jade says when she sees me.

“I think the jeans are too tight in the ass.”

“Not possible.” We both check out my butt in the mirror. “You’ve been hitting the squat rack hard, haven’t you?”

Yeah, that and the Hostess cupcakes; that cream filling and the little white swirl of icing on top have seen me through some tough times over the years. “I should just change.”

“Go. Thong. Do it.”

I do as told, finding the one thong I own—a midnight-blue strip of lace Jade bought me as a gag gift last Christmas—having thrown the red thing I wore that cursed night at Reeve’s in the trash as soon as it came off. When I check the mirror, I wonder if Jade insisted on a thong for the shot of confidence as much as for the visual effect because, yeah, I’m actually feeling myself in this thing. Amazing what obliterating panty lines can do for the self-esteem.

I’m a ball of nerves on the walk to the lacrosse house. I don’t want to see Cam, yet something about this thong and the fact that for once in my life my whole look is on point makes me think I could handle him tonight. I could look him in the eye and demand an answer, and he might just give me the truth. But do I want to hear it?

The house is beyond packed when we walk in, but I spot only a few guys from the football team. Madison finds Lincoln, Lincoln finds us drinks, and Jade and I find the dance floor. I have one basic move, but tonight it’s enough.

Some guy comes up behind me to dance, puts his mouth to my ear and shouts, louder than necessary, “Lenni! Remember me?”

It takes me a minute, but yes, I remember him. Connor. No, Kyle. Lacrosse team. He kissed me freshman year and told me I had nice lips.

He leads me away from Jade, who lays a watchful eye on him but keeps dancing. It’s hard to hear what he’s saying over the pounding music, but we manage a shallow round of “how have you been?” over the noise. He’s cute, though not as cute as I remembered. I know who to blame for that. He flirts with me shamelessly, which satisfies me mainly because it means this uncomfortable outfit is working. But when he takes my hand to lead me outside where we can talk without shouting, his skin doesn’t shoot off sparks.

All I can think is, I wish Cam was here .

Outside, I can finally hear Kyle, but that’s where I stop listening. That’s where I realize I’m wasting his time because even if he makes a decent competitor for Cam on paper—handsome, polite, intelligent—he’s not Cam. He inspires none of the feelings inside me that Cam does. No one ever has. And I realize then that I gave up those feelings—light and hope and all the shiny things every girl wants—for no reason. Literally. I invented a story about why Cam acted strangely on the street. I took the barest of facts and filled in the rest with my imagination. That’s not what a good journalist does. And maybe my assumption is true, but what if it’s not? What if I shut him out of my life over something I imagined?

“I need to go check on my friends,” I tell Kyle when there’s a break in the one-sided conversation he’s holding.

If Cam’s here, I’m finding him.