Page 15 of The Sound of Us

Instead, I sank into the voice that wrapped me in warmth and carried me away.

CHAPTER SEVEN“Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and MnekSkye

Isla’s “something” was to drag me out of bed at 7:00A.M.every morning for the next three days to “get on with my life.” I went to class, applied for jobs, filled in applications for the few scholarships still available, and met daily with a very sympathetic student financial advisor who was doing everything she could to help me stay in school. In my spare time, I worked extra shifts at Buttercup. Even though Dante had shown me that his reputation as a player was well-deserved, my heart skipped a beat every time I heard a deep voice, and a small part of me kept hoping he would stop by to say hello.

By Friday, I still hadn’t found a new source of funding. I told Isla that if I hadn’t figured anything about by the end of the following week, I’d have to return to Denver. Of course, she got in touch with Haley and the two of them decided to take me to a frat party to cheer me up. What better introduction, she said, to my new life of drinking, eating bad food, hooking up with strangers, and staying up late than a frat party where everything came free?

“Did you try the Purple Jesus?” Isla shouted over the music as we took a breather in the kitchen so I could help myself to another carb-and sugar-laden plate of potato chips and donuts. The DJ wasn’t too bad. His playlist had bounced from “Closer” to Justin Bieber’s “Sorry,” with plenty of upbeat tracks like “Hey Ya!” and “Hips Don’t Lie.”

“Where is it?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Why is it in the bathroom?”

“They made a bathtub full of it.” She held up a paper cup. “Most people are just sticking their heads in and drinking straight from the tub, but I was smart. I asked for a cup.”

Even after our pre-party tequila shot warm-up, I wasn’t drunk enough to even contemplate drinking from a frat house bathtub, especially since the house smelled of stale beer and the sweat of dozens of unwashed bodies. I gently pried the cup out of Isla’s hands and put it on the kitchen table, which held a buffet of potato chips, beef jerky, and something that looked like chicken fingers. “I think we should dance. They’ve found a DJ who can play some decent music.”

Haley joined us in the living room, where the music was blaring and the room was filled with jocks, ballers, sorority girls and frat boys, a few artsy types, and some awkward freshmen. Other than the small table where the DJ had set up his equipment, there was a conspicuous absence of furniture, but it just meant more room to dance.

“Rugby player heading your way at six o’clock,” Isla shouted in my ear as she thrashed her arms around to her own personal beat. “He’s kinda cute.”

The rugby player introduced himself as Aaron. His neck was so thick he could barely look over his shoulder. Someone had told him I was on the DII basketball team, and he wanted to talk athletics—best protein shake, earliest wake-up, number of times puking during a workout. He was a tight end who had won many trophies, and he was desperate for me to come to his room to see them. Aaron wasn’t a dancer, so he stood beside me, keeping away the roving hands of his frat brothers while sending his pledges to bring me fresh drinks.

“I need to get away from Aaron,” I said to Haley. “I’m not used to drinking and I’ve had so many shots, I almost forgot the moves to the Macarena. He keeps offering to take me upstairs and I’mworried I might say yes because I just want to rest my head. It wouldn’t be a good situation.”

“You don’t want to hook up with him?” Haley asked. “He’s a hottie.”

“He’s not really my type.” There was only one guy I wanted to sleep with, but I was sure he’d found someone else to warm his bed on a Friday night. And even if he hadn’t, I wasn’t interested in being another notch in his belt.

We grabbed Isla and headed outside to sit on the grass so I could clear my head. The air was crisp and cool and a welcome relief from the sticky heat inside.

“I was playing shot pong with a guy who looks like Tom Holland.” Isla took a sip from the bottle of vodka she’d taken from the makeshift bar. “If I’d kept winning, he would have gotten lucky tonight.”

I took the bottle and put it to my lips, grimacing at the bitter taste as the vodka slid down my throat. “I think he was making his own luck, babe.”

“Skye could have had the hottest rugby player on campus, but she’s still pining for Dante,” Haley blurted out.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t mentioned him at all this week.”

“You didn’t have to.” Haley grinned. “You’ve spent every shift at Buttercup staring out into the hallway with a dreamy expression on your face and jumping anytime you hear a deep voice.”

“She listens to his show at night.” Isla gave me a playful poke in the ribs. “Every morning she rants about the songs he played and didn’t play, and why would he play this song after that one, and what about the ten songs that were better for this theme…”

I folded my arms and huffed. “I thought you guys were my friends.”

“We are your friends,” Haley said. “That’s why I think we should make it happen. This might be your last chance…” She trailed off when Isla gave a warning shake of her head, but she wasright. It was highly likely that by this time next week I would be back in Denver.

“Nothing is going to happen,” I said, taking another sip. “He never even came by the coffee shop to find out how the tryout went. He’s got women coming out his ears—usually two or three at once.”

Haley took the bottle and added a splash of vodka to her drink. “He is sooo hot. I’d bang him if I had the chance.”

“You can’t bang Dante.” Isla snorted a laugh. “Skye is going to bang him.”

“I’m not banging him. I’m moving back to Denver. No time to bang.”

We collapsed into a fit of giggles while Haley scrolled through her phone.

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