I spot a sophomore soccer player who lives across the hall coming out of the shower with a big fluffy yellow towel wrapped around her. She’s one of the few friendly faces I’ve met, and I don’t have to force the smile that comes when she walks toward me. She’s one of those people who seems to know and like everyone.

“It’s a madhouse in here,” I say after waving hello.

“Give it another thirty minutes, and there’ll be a line for the shower. I bet the guys’ bathroom is a ghost town. They won’t start getting ready until fifteen minutes before the mixer starts.” She rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t realize everyone was going tonight. I thought it was just a few teams.”

“Ah.” She squeezes the ends of her wet, red hair. “Yeah, it’s mandatory for everyone. It’s a big deal. Lots of local media on top of the alumni and season ticket holders.”

My stomach sinks with the new information. The last thing I need is more PR. I fake excitement. “Can’t wait. I guess I better snag one of those showers before everyone else gets the same idea.”

I stand under the hot water until my skin is pink from the heat and the stress tension I’ve been carrying in my neck disappears. When I step out, sure enough, a line has formed for the showers and a dozen more girls are using the mirrors to do their hair and makeup.

With my robe on and caddy in hand, I head back to my room. I take a deep breath before I enter the suite, feeling my neck muscles tighten at just the thought of facing Bri. I relax when I find the common room is empty and the door to Emily and Bri’s room is closed.

But the tension comes screaming back when I walk into my room. Bri sits on my bed. Dark brown hair falls into her face, blocking me from seeing her expression, which I’m positive is smug. Her ass is planted on my comforter and both feet are pulled up on top of my dress while she paints her toenails a bright blood red. I’m not sure what’s more shocking—the audacity to blatantly disrespect me or her choice in nail polish color.

Sydney’s face turns a rosy shade as she glances between us. “Chloe’s back now, Bri.”

“Sorry, just finishing up here.” She takes her time giving the toes on her right foot a second coat before screwing the lid on the bottle and swinging her legs off the bed. “Oops, looks like I got a little spot on your dress. You weren’t going to wear this tonight, were you?”