Page 71 of The Game Plan

It’s comfortable and familiar, being with my parents. I never went through a rebellious teenage phase. We get along well. We’re all pretty even-keeled.

“Mack is taking her SAT in two weeks,” Mom reports. “I was thinking you might take her out to celebrate after.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Mackenzie and I aren’t super tight, but she’s still my sister. “Maybe she’ll want to spend the weekend here.”

We have Parents’ Weekend coming up. We’ll have to get through that first.

“In a smelly college house?” Dad wrinkles his nose.

“I mean, if she wants to. She’ll be here next year.” I’ll take her to a college party, let her see for herself how awful they are. Maybe that way some of the allure will fade away before next fall.

I don’t care if she drinks. I don’t care if she parties. She’s seventeen, going to be eighteen in two more months; she can handle herself.

And it will be good for her to see the school in a different light. It’s not all sunshine and roses like the recruiting people tell us. It’s late nights studying and early morning practice and partying so much you end up puking at practice. It’s staying up late with the guys watching scary movies and going to the diner at three o’clock in the morning. It’s drunk people everywhere, at all times of the day. It’s people who wouldn’t look at you twice in street clothes who decide to be your new best friend after a good game. It’s the best people you’ll ever meet in your life, and the worst.

Chapter twenty-seven

Miles

Asweagreed,Imeet Sam at her sorority house at ten. She answers the door wearing skintight jeans and a boxy green shirt that hangs off one shoulder. She looks fucking fantastic.

“You made it!” she chirps, throwing herself at me. I catch her and set my hands on her hips. Her eyes are a little glassy. I can smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Got a head start?” I remember she mentioned she’s a lightweight. How much has she had? Is this just one drink, or has she had more?

“We’re pre-gaming,” she announces.

This is going to be fun.

She tugs me into the house. “Guys, this is Miles. Miles, this is... everyone.”

I recognize Tamar, her so-called best friend and softball teammate. Kiersten is a short, curvy woman of Asian descent with her hair braided back into two pigtails. Haleigh is tall, thin, and Black, her natural hair falling in tight corkscrew spirals.

Both are done up with a full face of makeup. They’re all wearing short, tight dresses and heels, which seems inappropriate for early November. It snowed two days ago. Aren’t their toes going to freeze off?

“Do you want a drink?” Haleigh asks, shaking a bottle of vodka in my direction.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I set my hands on Sam’s hips, pulling her back against my front. “How was your night out with the girls?”

She spins in the circle of my arms, winding her arms around my neck. “I missed you,” she admits.

One of the girls coos.

“Missed you, too.” I touch my lips to hers, and it’s like the first good thaw of spring, relief seeping through me as ice melts. She deepens the kiss, and I bring my hand up to cup her cheek, relishing the feeling of her skin against mine.

“Last night kind of sucked,” she says.

“My night sucked, too.” I tighten my arms around her. “Want to just stay in and watch a movie?”

Sam laughs. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

Damn.

There are a half dozen other girls that she introduces me to. Wendy, the sorority president. Makayla. Jun. Sarita. Amanda. Jenn. They’re all perfectly nice to me, if not a little curious as to what I’m doing there. There aren’t any other guys around.

We set off for the frat house, Sam’s hand in mine. The girls link their arms and cheer as we walk the half mile or so to the Gamma house.

It’s a giant brick monstrosity on a corner lot. People spill out of the house and onto the lawn. There’s a line to get in—an actual line, like this is some exclusive club and not a dirty, smelly frat party. There’s a guy with a clipboard checking IDs at the front.

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