Page 2 of The Drop

“Did you find him?” she asks, putting a hand on her hip, waiting for me for an answer. I look at her, still frozen, and realise the dress she is wearing is white, just like the one my mom wore.

Had they both seriously dressed for my “engagement” in white? Who does that?

Panic is gripping me too tightly to think about the white dress dilemma too much, because I don’t want to be engaged. Even if I hadn’t heard them, the thought of being proposed to in front of one hundred people makes me feel physically sick. “Um,no, actually, I just need a minute; I’m not feeling well,” I finally say, giving her a tight smile while shaking my head slightly. It’s still swimming with all this information, and I’m not lying about feeling sick. I’m seconds away from throwing up the strawberry daiquiri I had and ruining her outfit.

“Oh, sweetie, no. Josh’s speech is in a minute.” She grabs my arm firmly, trying to move me toward the doors, and I flinch, pulling away. If I go outside, I'm going to be proposed to - nope, not happening. “I’m on my period,” I squeak out, and she turns towards me, looking uncomfortable. “I need to go grab a tampon; I don’t want to ruin my dress.”

“Oh, of course, honey. Why didn’t you say?” She laughs it off awkwardly and shoos me towards the stairs. “Be quick.”

Nodding, I scurry up the stairs past more family portraits and pictures and lock myself in the furthest bathroom from the stairs. Sinking to the floor, I place my shoes next to me, feeling the cool tile underneath my legs and hands. I feel more grounded as my brain processes the information.

My dad died when Josh and I had only been dating a few months; we had always been friends and ran in the same circles, but it wasn’t until one of Mom’s parties that we ended up spending one-on-one time together. We snuck a bottle ofchampagne, sat out on the country club’s golf course in the middle of the night, and ended up kissing.

He asked me out the next day, and even though I wasn’t feeling any butterflies, I liked Josh and thought everyone was supposed to have a relationship in high school, so I said yes.

It was fun; he took me on cute dates, to dinner, and the movies, but just as I doubted if he was the right one, Dad died, and Josh was there. He held my hand at the funeral and started picking me up from school like my dad used to. He began to feel safe, and we became solid.

But that was all a lie; HE didn’t want to be there for me, he tried to break up with me.

My face grows red with embarrassment, and tears are pricking my eyes as this ugly lie is suddenly tainting all those memories of knocking on my mom’s door every day for weeks, asking if she wanted to have dinner together or watch a movie, but she never answered. Josh would always show up and take me to that dinner or a movie. Had she called him? Every time I needed her, she called him to deal with me.

There’s a knock at the door behind me, and I jump.

“Brooke?” My mom’s voice comes through the door; the honey is gone from her voice, and it’s cold again.

“Yeah, Mom.” I sigh, pressing the heel of my hands to my eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall.

“Everyone is waiting for you; hurry up,” she hisses through the door.

“I got my period. I’ll just be a little longer.” I say as I scramble up and search through my purse, brushing tears away as I do.

“You’re embarrassing us both.” I hear her heels clack off after she hisses her parting shot, and a sniffle creeps out as I grab my phone and dial my best friend’s number.

“B!” she squeals down the phone as soon as she answers, and I hear music thumping in the background.

“Cami, can you come get me?” Instantly, I start to cry at her voice, not able to keep the tears at bay anymore.

“I’m on my way,” she says without any hesitation or explanation. I let out a sob because I knew she would be there for me. “I’ve had too much to drink, but I’m coming, B. I’ll get a ride.”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, you’re at that party.” I cover my eyes while the other hand grips the countertop. I’m a terrible friend. Cami had been talking about this back-to-college party all week and how some girls on her figure skating team were going; she wanted to get to know them, as the girls she was close to last year had graduated. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”

“No, you won’t!” she shouts down the phone at me. “I’ll text you when I’m almost there; pin me your location.”

“Okay.” I sniffle.

“B, whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

I nod, even though she cannot hear me, and grip the sink more tightly. I’ve got to figure out how to stall my proposal till she gets here.

What is my life?

Chapter Two

Grant

My plan is simple when I enter the frat party with the rest of the hockey team: find a drink, find a girl, hook up.

Sigma fraternity always threw epic return-to-college parties. The house sits on Greek row and has a large foyer where most people party, then spill out into the smaller rooms.

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