“Braden.” She steps a bit closer. “Thank you. I’m Colleen.”

She carefully steps around Sara and closer to me, her arm brushing against mine as we file toward the front of the line. As we climb onto the bus, she leans over to take my hand. “Let’s sit together, Braden.”

Chapter Seven

Sara

When Braden had said buses would come to take us to the city, I’d pictured the big yellow kind that used to bring us on school field trips, with brown pleather bench seats that split to reveal foam that everyone would pick at, and those windows that slid down when you pinched the sides. Or maybe even one of those coach buses, like the ones that took us to work events at my internship last summer, with plush seats that had real seat belts and high ceilings with luggage storage.

I had definitely not pictured this. The inside of this bus glows purple from the lights on the ceiling. The sides are lined with black leather seats, like couches. Above them are big mirrors, interrupted only by large speakers. Along the back is a bar and a cooler, which was empty save for ice but is quickly being filled with beer and liquor by the boarding students. In the middle of the bus are three large silver poles. Stripper poles.

“Interesting way to get around,” I say to Robbie.

He just nods, the back of his neck turning red.

I step around the stripper poles quite deliberately and take a seat.

“Oh my god, Sara.” Colleen plops down on the other side of me, flipping her fiery hair over her shoulder and sending a breeze that smells of perfume and whiskey my way. I’m surprised that she’s sitting with me, considering how she’s treated me in the past. Maybe it’s just because Braden is busy haggling with the driver about the aux cord. Though maybe that’s not fair. Maybe I judged Colleen too soon. “This is so cool. Thank you so much for getting me on here—you are so cool.”

“Uh, no problem.” I smile.

“So, this guy Braden...” She leans in closer to me, but doesn’t do a very good job of lowering her voice. “Is he, like, in Sig A?”

“In what?”

She looks at me sideways. “Sigma Alpha. The frat, silly, the one whose party we were just at.”

“Oh, uh...” I look around for Braden, but he’s still on the other end of the bus, talking to a girl who is leaning against one of the stripper poles. “No...he’s rushing, I guess, so maybe he will be soon.”

“He knows someone in it though?”

“Yeah from high school. His old prefect.”

“Oh.” She considers this, turning to look at him again. She snaps her head back toward me. “Prefect?”

I am about to say Yeah, I know! Like Harry Potter! but she charges forward with the conversation.