Page 82 of Call the Shots
“Yeah, the last thing we need is a video.” He stole a glance over his shoulder and turned back, jaw set with determination. “You want to end this?”
“Yes!”
“When the volume goes down, shout about your ankle.”
“What? It’s not that bad?—”
“Yell like you’re in the worst pain imaginable,” he urged. “Now, June! Scream about it! Get your Oscar!”
I had no idea what Fridge was talking about, but I was too wasted to argue. I clutched my ankle, screaming in the highest pitch I could. “OW, MY ANKLE!”
Through a crowd of roaring, testosterone-filled, beer-guzzling boys who were still on their parents’ insurance, Bear jerked up and his eyes met mine. A beat passed. The furious look on his face disappeared.
He abandoned his fight to wrap his arm around Elijah’s chest, hauling him backwards.
“I GOT IT!” Elijah shouted. “I CAN TAKE ALL THESE PUSSIES?—”
Bear slipped Elijah’s phone from his pocket and dumped him in the pool. Elijah was under water for a couple of seconds before he emerged, sputtering with fresh curses at Bear, but I was pretty sure Bear didn’t hear them. Like clockwork, he continued with everybody else in a fight, hauling them to the pool until Nick helped too.
The fight ended as quickly as it began with a dozen swimming frat boys and the sorority president chewing people out.
Bear made his way to me.
My heart pounded with each step he took. Bear was always tall, but down on the grass, I really realized it. Maybe it was the way he carried himself. So comfortable with his stride, his broad shoulders, the long legs, his big hands… When he knelt beside me, I swallowed.
Bear slipped his hand under my legs.
I blinked. “What are you?—?”
He lifted me up.
“No, no, no!” I pushed away for several stupid, drunk seconds before I remembered how much a fall could hurt. Iwrapped my arms around his neck. “Down! Back on the ground! No carrying!”
It was like I didn’t say anything. Bear glanced back. “Elijah! Let’s go!”
No matter how much I demanded Bear put me down, he walked through the house with me, shoving people away when they were close to brushing my ankle. He didn’t put me down until we reached the porch.
Bear inspected my ankle, carefully running his fingers over it.
“Ow, ow, ow,” I whined.
“Night’s done,” Bear said to our group when they filed after us. “June needs an ice pack?—”
“It’s Montoya’s birthday,” I insisted. “We’re getting pancakes.”
“The night’sdone,June.”
“This is the best birthday party ever,” Montoya hiccupped and sprawled out on the porch. “I love the Gladiators.”
“Pancakes aren't happening,” Bear said. “If we call a taxi and someone passes out at the restaurant, we’re too drunk to handle that.”
Ugh, that was a good point. The glassy look on everyone’s faces, and Elijah, soaked through his bed sheet, made me hesitate. Would a car even pick us up? Um…maybe if we knew them…
I yanked out my phone to dial and a bleary voice answered. “What? Hello?”
“Cleo?” I swatted Bear’s hand when he tried to take my phone. “I’m with the guys—we’re drunk—we want pancakes?—”
“Do you know what time it is?”
