“You can be fashionably late to parties on frat row, but parties at The White House are the kind of events you want to be there for every possible minute. You don’t want to miss anything. I mean, you’ve seen that place, it’s incredible. They’ve had some epic parties there.”

“Mhmm.” I brush past her and disappear into the closet. “How do you guys want to get there? Should we take an Uber?”

She laughs. “Did you guys seriously Uber to parties within walking distance at Golden? We’ll just walk. It would take us longer to get an Uber than it would to walk there. Wear flats and carry your heels; that’s what I always do. We can stop and slip on our heels before we cross over at the fieldhouse.”

I store every piece of information she offers in case I need it later. It’s going to be a very long night.

8

NATHAN

Datson is wearing a beer guzzler helmet, passing out cups for the keg, and making a point to talk to every one of the fifty or so people walking around the first floor of our house. He and Shaw moved in today, and Datson has named himself the one-man welcoming committee.

“How are the new roommates?” Gabby asks as I follow her around the party.

“Good.” I shrug and step in front of her to stop someone from plowing into her. The party is just getting started, and people are already beyond drunk. First week of school parties are crazy.

“Where’s your drink?” she asks, finally noticing I don’t have one. Aside from the night with Chloe, I’d been doing a good job of keeping the partying under control. Before I can answer, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen.

Datson swoops in just as we near the liquor bottles on the counter. He holds out a red cup. “Need a cup or are you drinking straight from the bottle tonight?”

I take a cup without answering him and head to the keg and pour a beer.

“Now you’re ready,” she says and links her arm through mine. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not that no one has noticed how much I’ve cut back.

“Ready for what?” I ask, noticing the huge grin on her face that is a dead giveaway that she’s up to no good.

“Operation girlfriend.”

Both brows lift under the hair falling into my eyes. I brush it away and go to tuck it behind my ears. It’s a habit that makes me miss my long hair. I cut it a few months ago, and I’m still not used to my once chin-length hair being cropped short.

“I don’t think I’m exactly in the place right now for a girlfriend. I couldn’t even buy her a drink at the bar.”