Page 81 of Beyond the Lines
“I don’t do casual,” I say, ignoring the irony that what happened in the bathroom was exactly that. “Or one-night stands.”
Em shrugs. “You’re a walking, talking emotional mess right now, Lea. If not Declan, maybe you need to at least try flirting withsomeone else.”
“Why, so I can traumatize another innocent bystander with my emotional baggage?” I scoff.
“No, so you can realize that Declan isn’t the only fish in the sea.” Em sits up, suddenly animated. “What about Ping’s thing tonight?”
“Another party?” I groan, because that’s thelastplace I want to go. “The last one didn’t exactly end well for me.”
“It’s for her Gaming Club. Just a few people playing cards, board games, and that kind of thing. No rager, no getting lost in the crowd, and no hockey players—since they wouldn’t be caughtdeadthere…” Em’s eyes are hopeful. “Come on, it’s been days of you hiding in here drawing… whatever you’ve been drawing.”
“I haven’t been hiding,” I say.
“You literally just army-crawled behind me to avoid Declan.”
“That was a strategic retreat.”
“Please?” Em pouts.
I hesitate. The thought of a small get-together does sound nice. No blasting music, no sweaty strangers, just a few people playing games. Normal college stuff that doesn’t involve bathroom hookups or awkward art classes or long deep-and-meaningful conversations at diners until the middle of the morning.
“No one from the hockey team?” I ask.
“The gaming club and hockey team Venn diagram is two circles with approximately three miles of space between them,” Em assures me. “You’re safe.”
I sigh. “Fine.”
Because what’s the worst that could happen at a gaming party?
seventeen
LEA
OK,so maybe this might be fun…
The cluster of people shuffling into the party at Ping’s friend’s place looks nothing like the crowd at that frat house where I first met Declan. Even better, there’s no bass thumping through the walls, no throng of sweaty bodies, and decidedly fewer crop tops.
“Told you this would be chill,” Em says, bumping my shoulder with hers as we follow Marnie up the walkway.
“You weren’t kidding. For once I don’t feel underdressed…” I tug at my plain black sweater, which I paired with jeans.
“You know it’s not arealparty if people aren’t throwing up by midnight,” Marnie quips. “But Trevor is coming, and thus, so am I…”
Em laughs. “Well, thanks for gracing us with your presence, my queen, and may the event be worthy…”
Ping waves to us from the doorway, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, and her face alight with excitement. “You guys made it! Come in, we’re just getting started!”
The apartment is nice. String lights cast a soft glow overmismatched furniture, and people are actually talking at volumes that don’t require lip-reading. A couple of guys are setting up board games on a coffee table, and there’s some background music.
This is what I pictured college would be like before I got here—cozy gatherings with interesting people, not sticky-floored frat houses filled to bursting, where you have to shout to be heard by strangers who are likely to vomit on you anyway.
“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Ping says, pointing. “And we’ve got a card game going in the corner if you want to join.”
“Trevor is over there…” Marnie goes all gooey, then leaves us in her dust as she heads for the card game.
Em hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, we better make sure Marnie doesn’t eat his face off…”
“I’m terrible at cards…” I say, but with no real resistance as she starts to drag me over there.
