Page 18 of The Game Plan

It’s my turn to make a face. “Um, never.”

“You’re not interested in dating?”

“Meaningless sex? Yeah. Dating, a boyfriend? No, thanks,” I tell him. “I have too much on my plate to worry about that. Softball season will be here before I know it and then I’ll have even less time.”

“So that story I heard about you and that football player…”

I roll my eyes. “We were studying.”

This rumor must be gaining traction if people outside of the athletic department are hearing about it. Not that there’s anything wrong with Miles. He’s great. I just wish other people believed me.

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously. He’s brilliant,” I say. “People are trying to make it into something that it’s not.”

“People? Or Tamar?”

I say nothing. So the distance between me and my best friend did not go entirely unnoticed.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve gone out with someone for more than a date or two. Do you want me to hook you up with one of the brothers? Chase has mentioned you once or twice…”

“Which one is Chase? Is he the tattooed beefcake or the guy who taps the kegs?”

Jake looks like he’s tasted something bitter. “Beefcake.”

For a moment, I consider it. Only for a moment.

“No, thanks. I’m good on my own. I just need a date for this stupid formal.”

Wendy, the sorority president, scowls at me. “Did I hear you say the formal is stupid?”

My face heats. “Um…”

“Sam, the formal is about celebrating our sisterhood.”

“Yeah, by getting dressed up, taking lots of pictures, and drinking.”

She shakes her head. “It’s so much more than that. It saddens me that you think that lowly of us.”

“I don’t—”

“You do. We know why you rushed. You put in the bare minimum of effort. You don’t want to be here.”

“I do. Really, I do.”

Now.

Back then, I didn’t. Over time, my opinions have changed.

“Pull your weight, show up with a smile on your face, and stop being such a goddamn bitch all the time,” Wendy snaps. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You aren’t being held hostage. You got in. You were a legacy. You can tell your mommy you did her proud. If you want to be here, great. If you don’t, there’s the door. It’s up to you, babe.”

I don’t know how to react to that. People are staring, whispers floating across the room. I’m not used to being the center of attention, not like this.

“I want to be here,” I mumble.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you?” Theatrically she cups her ear.

“I want to be here,” I state definitively. “I want to be part of the sisterhood.”

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