Page 1 of Lock 'em Down

One

Cami

“You didn’t tell your mom we’re in Vegas?” Izzy’s eyes nearly fall out of her head. She groans and places her hand over her mouth. “Cami! She’s going to kill us.”

“Me. Not you,” I remind her cheerfully. For sure, Mom is going to be upset that I joined this last-minute graduation celebration in Vegas.

I can already hear her disapproval. You girls went to Vegas with no parents? With no chaperones? Where anything could have happened to you? But… “I’m moving to Tennessee. I don’t know the next time I’m going to see you girls. I was not missing this.” And I didn’t have time to put in the effort I’d need to get Mom on board for this party weekend.

Izzy sighs but she glances at our group of girlfriends. Then, she looks at me, tears shimmering in her brown eyes. “I’m gonna miss you, Cam.”

“Oh, jeez,” I laugh, even though emotion tightens my throat. Izzy and I have been through a lot together. She showed up for me big time when I came home after a semester study in Europe, brokenhearted and broken-spirited. Then again, when Mom intervened by showing up at our college dorm nearly every Friday night, a bag of popcorn in hand and a movie recommendation in mind.

Mom’s meddling became so aggressive that after she tried to set me up with her dentist’s son—a good boy, from a good family—Izzy covered for me by corroborating my lie of having a stomach bug.

It’s going to be strange not having her close by. “Come here.” I toss an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll come visit me in Knoxville, right?”

Izzy nods. “I can’t believe you’re moving next week.”

I bite the corner of my mouth. I can’t believe it either. While most of my college friends—fellow members of our sorority Alpha Phi—are staying in Minnesota or at least in the Midwest, I’m heading east. But the job offer—a boring position at an accounting firm with a solid starting salary—is exactly what Mom and Dad want for me.

Besides, I can use the distance from home. I need a break from my mom’s incessant worrying that I’m going to throw my life away—or worse, end up with the wrong man for a husband.

As kid number three, I’m her wild card. My siblings, Rhett and Jenna, didn’t pull the shenanigans I did and as such, she doubled down on me. On ensuring I didn’t step too far out of line. And ever since I did, while studying abroad in Spain three years ago, she’s been determined to reset my course.

Nothing would make Mom happier than me settled down, with a stable career, and a strong husband to protect and provide for me.

A weekend in Vegas? Not so much.

My mother is a helicopter parent and while I can, to a degree, appreciate her looking out for me, she constantly crosses the line.

Now, I want the chance to enjoy myself in a fun, eclectic new city. I need the freedom to make my own choices and mistakes—and maybe if I had more of it, my poor judgement calls wouldn’t be such colossal blunders.

It’s time for a new chapter for the new graduate.

“Girls!” Mia shouts over her shoulder, pointing at the approaching server who is balancing a tray of shot glasses. “We’re doing shots.”

Izzy grins. “You ready for tonight?”

“Totally,” I say, meaning it. While Mom accuses me of being impulsive, I prefer to think of my spontaneity as an asset. It means I dive into things headfirst, savoring the experience and relishing the moment.

It may not have always served me well in the past, but tonight is different. With the excitement of my new life in Knoxville beckoning, I’m different. It feels like I’m on the precipice of adulthood, and for the first time in years, I trust myself to be here.

Linking my arm with Izzy’s, we rejoin our friends around the table on the rooftop patio. It’s filled with people of all ages and backgrounds—but everyone is in a celebratory mood. Isn’t that why you come to Vegas?

To party? Let loose? Have some damn fun?

I lift my shot glass to the group. “To us!”

“Happy graduation!” Izzy exclaims, clinking her glass against mine.

“Cheers!” Mia adds.

“To tonight!” Tamara exclaims.

We take our shooters and I smack my lips together as the vodka burns a trail of heat down my throat.

“Ooh, six o’clock,” Tamara murmurs.

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