Page 31 of Scrimmage

“Fuck."

“What’s up?” Penny loops her arm through mine. I show her my phone and she shakes her head.

“I forgot."

“I’m honestly surprised you even have it. If you Irish goodbye me tonight, I swear I’ll call the police.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I mean it!” She laughs. “At least use the phone of whatever idiot you end up leaving with to tell me you’re alive and fine.”

“Yeah,thatwill be my first order of business.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Cole chirps. He knows I’m going to dip. At least he’s covering for me.

I want to make some snide comment, but the sound of the party echoing down the street stops me. I mentally prepare myself for the insanity we’re going to walk up on. Bass thuds, rattling the windows, and people are crowded together on the front lawn. They pour out onto the street, and the voices are like a loud thrum. Penny, Cole, and I stand on the sidewalk staring at the scene.

“Well, this puts the soccer parties to shame,” she breathes.

I usher her into the throngs of people up to the front door. Some asshole stands there with an actual clipboard. Several people stand around looking dejected.

A hand sticks out and stops us. It’s attached to a girl in all red. It’s not her color. “Sorry, they won’t let you in without being on the list.” She giggles, as if she had made it into the party.

I recognize her as Stacy from that brunch, but she doesn’t seem to recognize me. She’s wearing god-awful red lipstick.

“Is that why you’re standing out here?” I raise an eyebrow.

The guy holding the clipboard looks amused. “Name?”

“Uh, Ashland Bradshaw?” I try. He waves us in. Stacy pouts and immediately starts talking shit to her friends. Dumb bitch. For a minute I let the superiority complex wash over me, bathing me in confidence.

The temperature in the house is stifling. I’m already suffocating with the smell of shitty weed and bodies. We make our way to the kitchen, passing idiots doing keg stands and slapping the bag.

“That’s Noah Barnes,” Cole shouts in my ear. “He was just recruited this year. A freshman.”

A makeshift bar has been set up in the corner, and a guy who still looks like a giant stands behind it. So he’s a rookie and clearly being treated like one.

“What can I get you to drink?” His eyes rove over me. I know I don’t fit in at this party, but I don’t really give a shit. I’m walking daddy issues and guys love that.

“What do you have?” I ask, ignoring the obvious hunger in his gaze.

“Let’s see. Beer, Jungle Juice, and cheap vodka." He's kind of cute and funny in that rom-com way.

“Fuck it. Give us Jungle Juice?” Penny nods in agreement.

“Beer for me,” Cole says.

Noah makes quick work of the drink orders. “Free refills,” he winks at me. I want to balk, but I just give him an insincere smile and head to a corner.

The energy in the place is insane with excitement. It's contagious. I don’t want to be enjoying myself, but some guy holds out a blunt and I take it. There's some sort of level up to this party. I won’t admit it, but I’m glad Cole and Penny made me come.

“Turn that frown upside down, Ash. We’re going to have a hell of a night. To the Cunts of the Century!” Penny puts the Jungle Juice up to my lips and forces me to drink half of the cup. It tastes like disgusting sweet syrup. Vodka and something dark blended with Hawaiian Punch. I do as she says and try to reorient myself into the fun Ashland; the one who doesn’t have incessant paranoia and hate everything this party stands for.

I get two refills before everything gets warm and any semblance of social anxiety is swept away in the haze. I swear Noah is making them stronger every time I return. He watches me from the bar, laughing with some of the other rookies. I can't help but to give him the fuck me eyes.

“Noah Barnes?” Cole observes with clear jealousy.

I give him a smile and he sends one back. “Maybe.”

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