Page 31

Brooke

We head back to the apartment after cocktails to freshen up before dinner. The boys are going to head straight from the rink.

“You seem close to Gunnar’s parents?” I point out from the floor of my closet as I dig around for heels to wear with my dress, as Cami sits at my vanity finishing her makeup.

“Yeah, I guess we kind of are.” She shrugs, putting down her mascara. “They check in with me and ask how Gunnar is doing when he gets distant?”

“Didn’t sound like Gunnar knew about it.” I finally find some heeled boots, slipping them on over my tights.

“He doesn’t. I think they worry about him with Sasha, so I don’t mention it to him, and they don’t either.” She bites her thumbnail, which she does when she worries. “Do you think he doesn’t like it and is mad at me?”

I take a moment to look at her worrying, and it’s so unlike her; Cami doesn’t worry about what people think. She’s the kind of girl you take as you see her. So I’m a little thrown.

“I’m sure he was just surprised and will be fine with it,” I decide to reassure her, grabbing a scarf. “Ready?”

We head out of my room, and we hear someone shouting outside the apartment.

“Shh,” Cami hisses as we grab each other’s arms in the hallway.

“Did you lock the door behind you?” I whisper, and she turns to me, looking sheepish and shakes her head. We both groan, knowing Grant will lose his shit on us. “Okay, let’s move toward the door and lock it.”

We shuffle over, still holding each other out of fear, and I deadbolt the door as quietly as I can before I let go of Cami and drop to my knees and crawl toward the balcony.

“What are you doing?” Cami hisses, following me.

“I can’t hear properly; I want to know what’s going on.” I throw over my shoulder as I slide the door open slowly and crawl out.

“I’m so proud,” she whispers behind me. “We should have brought wine.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” a girl screeches from the divide of our apartments.

We both turn to each other in horror. It’s Sasha.

“I travel down with your mom and dad, who, by the way, would not get off my back! ‘Sasha, what are your plans for next year? What about summer at our lake house? Would you transfer to be closer to Gunnar?” she continues to yell into the phone as we watch her through the balcony slats, wide-eyed.

“Gunnar has a lake house,” I whisper, and Cami presses a finger to my lips. “You’re right; sorry,” I mumble.

“Your ratchet college friends hijacked our nice dinner with your parents; I mean, seriously, Gunnar, does she even like me? Why would I hang out with that skanky figure skater and her homeless friend?”

I recoil and look at Cami, who looks just as hurt as I am. “Let’s go inside,” Cami whispers, and I nod, not wanting to hear anymore either. Following her, we hear Sasha’s last blow as we move to shut the door.

“You can call them and tell them not to come. I’m serious, Gunnar. I’m not coming unless you call them.”

We slide the door shut and sit in front of each other, silent for a second.

“He won’t listen to her,” I whisper, grabbing Cami’s hand and making her look at me. “He’s our friend, and she’s being a jealous girlfriend.”

“You’re right.” She nods back at me, presses her lips together, and we both get up off the floor. “I’ll get us an Uber.”

She picks up her phone but immediately shoves it at me as it rings suddenly, and I stare as Gunnar’s name lights it up.

“No way.” I look up and see the tears in her eyes. She kicks off her heels and walks over to the sofa and slumps down on it, and I sit on her other side, declining the call.

“Fuck him.” I threw her phone on the coffee table in front of us. “No one treats us like that.”

I stand and pick up my phone by the door, fire off a text to Grant, saying Cami and I don’t feel well and are staying in, but to apologise for Mr and Mrs C.

“How many bottles of wine have we got?” Cami asks, sniffling, looking over at her, pulling a blanket over herself. Tears prick my eyes. I can’t stand to see my friend like this.

“A few; Adam has been buying us a bottle for every bottle of tequila he finds.” I shrug, heading to the fridge and grabbing a bottle.

“He’s a good man.” She says as I bring it over with glasses, but she grabs the bottle and just drinks straight from it.

Oh boy.

Three hours later,

We have only moved to get more wine and a pint of ice cream that’s melting between us as we cry at The Notebook.

“Noah’s a good man,” Cami cries around her spoonful of Ben Jerry’s cookie dough. “He reads to her.”

“And she remembers,” I finish, wiping my eyes, and we grab each other’s hands.

We both jump as there’s a bang against our door and something that sounds like someone saying, “Ouch, fuck.”

I get up, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of the dress I’m still wearing, which is now all wrinkled, and look through the peephole before opening the door.

“Oh,” Adam recoils in horror while standing next to Grant. “Wow, are you contagious? I don’t want that.”

“Shut up, idiot” Grant elbows him as he steps forward holding a tray, and I move to let him in. “Why was your door locked?”

“Predators,” Cami and I both say at the same time as I join her on the sofa, and she lays her head on my shoulder.

“Oh-kay.” I can tell Grant wants to say more, but places the tray in front of us. “Brought you dessert from the restaurant.”

We both look at each other and tear up.

“You’re a good man,” I say, grabbing the tray, opening it, and immediately hit with the smell of chocolate; we both moan.

“It was Adam’s idea, but I picked it.” Grant rubs the back of his neck. “Are you okay?”

“Adam,” Cami sobs, sticking her spoon into the chocolate. “I said he was a good man.”

Adam and Grant look at her with horrified looks on their faces, and I take pity on them. “I’ll walk you guys out,” I say, nodding my head at the door; they follow, and Grant pats Cami on the head as he passes by her, and she says he’s a good man again.

I walk out of the apartment with them and shut the door quietly behind me.

“What the fuck is going on, B?” Adam bursts out, throwing his hands up. “Is she dying?”

“Yeah, and why was the door locked?” Grant narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “What? No,” I shh Adam. “She doesn’t feel well, is all, and maybe we have both decided you’re right and we should start locking it.”

Grant scoffs at me, and I glare back at him.

“This isn’t the time!” Adam shrieks, his voice unusually high-pitched. “There’s something wrong with Cami.”

Their apartment door behind them opens, and Gunnar and Bear peer out.

“Guys, what’s the shouting about?” Gunnar asks, stepping out looking concerned, and I glare at him, feeling the rage I had felt earlier rise to the surface.

“Oh, is it loud when people talk out here?” I jabbed at him, rolling my eyes, huffing, and turning away from him.

“Woah, what have I done?” Gunnar holds his hands up in defence. “What’s wrong with Cami?”

“None of your business.” I roll my eyes at him again.

Adam walks towards Gunnar, “We need to go to the ER; she’s delirious!”

“Okay, let’s all calm down. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Gunnar puts a hand on Adams’s shoulder to calm him down.

“She said I was a good man, Gunnar.” Adam grabs Gunnar’s face between his hands and stares into his eyes. “She is not well.”

“Oo-kay,” Gunnar whispers, his eyes wide. “Maybe the ER wouldn’t hurt.”

“She does not need to go to the ER,” I burst out, pulling Adam away from Gunnar by the back of his shirt. “Everyone, go back to their respective apartments; she just needs tonight to feel better, and she will be fine tomorrow.”

“Gunnar,” a girl’s voice calls from the guys’ apartment. “What’s going on? The doors open, and I’m cold.”

“Nothing, Sasha,” Gunnar calls back.

“Brooke’s right, okay, let’s all just go to bed, and we will check in on her in the morning.” Grant says being the voice of reason in the group.

“Check on who?” The girl, I assume is Sasha, is standing in the doorway, her straight black hair hanging over one shoulder; she’s in her PJs with her arms wrapped around herself. She looks very innocent, considering she’s the devil.

“Remember, I said Cami wasn’t well; the guys are worried she might need to go to the ER,” Gunnar explains, moving over to her side.

“Oh, no,” she gasps, putting a hand on her chest. “I hope she doesn’t have what I had earlier; that was awful.”

“Exactly what did you have earlier?” I ask her, my eyes barely open as I glare hard at her. “I don’t think Gunnar said.”

“Oh, um, are you Brooke? I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, sickly sweetly, not answering my question.

“Vomiting? Migraine? The flu?” I bite at her, not caring that I sound like a bitch.

“B?” Gunnar says my name like a question, and I look at him. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy,” I mumble. “I’m tired; I’m going to bed.”

Heading towards our door, Grant moves behind me, putting a hand on my lower back. “I’ll just check on Cami one last time so that Adam will calm down,” he reassures me, and I nod before turning back to the group.

“You guys should all head inside. You can hear everything out here from our apartment,” I say pointedly at Sasha, whose eyes widen.

Got you, bitch.