Page 15 of The Wrong Play

Right. That’s where I’d seen her.

She popped her gum and nodded. “And you’re Riley. The mysterious girl who never talks in class.”

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Not mysterious. Just…shy.”

“Same thing.” She propped her chin on her hand and smirked. “Anyway, I was gonna leave you alone, let you keep suffering in solitude, but then I figured—what kind of person would I be if I let you waste away in the library when I have the perfect solution to all your problems.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You have some kind of wild study technique that’s going to magically save my GPA?”

She snorted. “No. Something much, much better than that. Sorority recruitment.”

I stared at her. “I appreciate it, but?—”

“Nope.” She held up a manicured hand. “Don’t say no yet. Just listen. We’re hosting an event at the Lucky Strike tonight. It’s chill. No pressure. Just a chance to hang out, meet cool girls, maybe have some fun. Which…based on that look on your face, I’m guessing you haven’t had in years.”

I scoffed…but couldn’t come up with anything to say. Because she was kind of right.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” She gave me a pointed once-over. “When’s the last time you went anywhere that wasn’t a classroom or your dorm or the library?”

Her smirk widened when I didn’t say anything.

“Exactly. And before you throw out some excuse about how far behind you are, it’s basically a scientific fact that in order to study hard, you have to play hard too. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.”

A grin slipped across my lips, one of my first since coming to campus.

“And you know what professors looooove, Riley?” she asked, leaning forward.

“What?” It was ridiculous how much I hated that word—professor—but it couldn’t be helped. I might never hear that word again without wanting to throw up.

“Making connections. Professors like students they recognize. And what better way to get involved than by joining thebestsorority on campus?”

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to spend a night in a loud bar, pretending to be social when all I really wanted was to hide under my covers.

But then I thought about what hiding under the covers actually meant…

Being watched.

By Emma.

While I slept.

And I did have that fake ID that Callum had gotten for me so I could drink when I was with him…

Tasha leaned forward, watching my expression, a victorious gleam in her eyes. “Come on, Riley. You’re not supposed to just survive college. You’re supposed to enjoy the whole experience. Live a little.”

I sighed, biting the inside of my cheek. She had a point. I had spent my time at Tennessee so far avoiding risk, avoiding people…I was missing out on everything.

Maybe it was time to change that.

I let out a slow breath. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Tasha grinned, clapping her hands together. “Not exactly the enthusiasm I’m looking for, but I can work with it.” She stood and stretched. “And hey, if nothing else, there’s free drinks.”

I laughed, and the sound seemed like a good sign. “You should have led with that,” I told her, even though I’d never had more than a few sips of a drink my entire life.

She winked. “See you tonight. You won’t regret it.”

And with that, she sauntered off, leaving me staring at my textbook, feeling something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

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