Page 73 of How to Lose at Love

“Gee, thanks for letting me know. I wasn’t aware.”

Ryann laughs. “How can you stand it?”

I can’t.

“My brother does it and so can I. All ya gotta do is mentally prepare to go out in public.”

At least that’s what Duke tells me. Then again, the dude had to hide out in his girlfriend’s house for two weeks before letting the world know he was switching football teams. She wasn’t his girlfriend at the time, so the whole situation was like a bad comedy.

“And mentally prepare to come to a college party?” Ryann’s brows are raised.

“Listen.” My fingers tap along the side of my beer cup. “A lot of these dudes are my best friends and we don’t have many bye weeks, so I think I can tolerate this for one night. I do love these guys.”

Being an athlete, there is an unspoken, unwritten vow of loyalty. We’re a brotherhood that sticks together—yeah, it’s hard explaining it to outsiders, but that doesn’t change the fact that I would give my life for most of these idiots.

It’s for the love of the game.

The party is uneventful and basic: loud music, makeshift bar in the corner. Beer pong in the basement, which has been spraypainted with glow-in-the-dark paint, black lights everywhere. Couples dancing and making out, more so as the hour wears on.

Drake and his posse circle our atmosphere again, my brother constantly surrounded by women. Weird because Drew isn’t, and they’re identical twins…

“Are you flirting with me?” Ryann bats her eyes at my brother when he taps her drink and asks if it’s piss warm yet; she’s barely drunk any of it. Correct me if I’m wrong, but she ain’t supposed to be batting her eyes at anyone but me.

We had a deal.

If it looks like she’s flirting with other people, this thing between us won’t look legit.

“I ask if your drink is piss warm and you ask if I’m flirtin’?” He throws his head back and laughs. “You’re a real gem, Ryann Winters.”

“Thanks.” She tosses her hair. “I know.”

My brother’s groupies are less amused, fake smiles pasted on their spray-tanned faces.

Why does he put up with chicks like this?

Jeez, I don’t want to date anyone, but if I did, it wouldn’t be someone grumpy and jealous who wanted to tear another girl’s hair out because I was talking to another female.

Un-fucking-believable.

“I’m glad you dragged this lazy P-O-S out of the house,” Drake tells Ryann. “He hasn’t been out this year yet, been hidin’ in his room like a hermit.”

“That’s because I’m trying to stay focused,” I shout at him over the loud, blaring sound system. “The only reason we’re out is because Ryann painted her toes pretty like and wanted to show them off.”

The lot of them look down at her feet, and sure enough, hot pink toenails peek out from a pair of black platform heels.

“They do look pretty,” my brother tells her, grinning over his beer cup. “Cute.”

Ryann wiggles her toes. “Once again, I thank you for the compliment.”

“Drake.” One of the girls tugs at the sleeve of his T-shirt. “You want to go play beer pong?”

He shakes his head. “No, I wanna hang out with my brother.”

Her shoulders slump and her mouth pouts.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” he asks me. “Should we brunch before we watch Duke’s game?”

I shrug. “Yeah, we can brunch.”

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