Hudson’s phone rings with a text. “Shit,” he says. “I’m late. Evelyn’s waiting for me. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He heads for the exit.
“I’m sorry about Sadie, man,” I say, not because I’m sorry they broke up—Palmer deserves someone so much better than her—but because I know how fucked up I’d feel if Hadley broke things off with me. “You have to find someone interested in you for more than just because you play football.”
“It works for Grey,” Palmer points out.
Grey doesn’t respond as he changes his shirt. He swore off dating, committing himself to football. He’s hoping to get drafted this year, which attributes to why these games matter so much to us and why Peters can fuck right off.
My phone vibrates with a series of texts that has me reaching into my pocket.
“If that’s Lenny with another dumb idea, tell him no,” Corey warns. “I don’t know where in the hell he found that fart spray, but Hudson’s still pissed at you guys for filling the air vents last weekend.”
“Hudson and everyone else on the first and second floor,” Palmer adds.
Hadley: Where are you?
Hadley: I can’t feel my toes
Hadley: Maybe I feel my toes? Maybe I can’t feel my feet.
“Shit.” I call her. It rings twice before she answers, a chorus of noise and music in the background, so loud I have to pull my phone away from my ear.
“Hello,” she says in a sing-song voice.
“Where are you?”
“At a party. Remember? I told you Hannah and I were going out.”
“Why can’t you feel your toes?”
“What? It’s really loud. Like really,reallyloud.”
“I said why can’t you feel your toes.”
Palmer snickers. “Toasted,” he sings.
“I have questions for you. Lots of questions, starting with, how many casual relationships do you normally have at the same time? And how long do they last?”
“How much have you had to drink tonight, Cutlass?”
She giggles at something. “I feel strange. Did I tell you I can’t feel my toes?” She hiccups.
I grab my bag and turn to my friends, who are already on their feet, ready to follow me wherever I tell them I need them—a reminder of our friendship that has withstood so much over the past two years and will only endure more. “Need us?” Grey asks.
I nod. “Can you send me your address, Cutlass?”
“The room is spinning.”
“How much have you had to drink?” I ask her again.
“I’m not drunk. I only drank one beer. Drunk? Drank? Why’s English so confusing? I drank too much and now I’m drunk. I lie on my bed as I lie to you. Do you see the sea? And don’t even get me started on affect and effect. You affect me. Is it a positive effect?”
“Howbigwas that beer?”
She scoffs. “Why aren’t you out having fun? It’s Friday. Who’s failing college now?”
Palmer must hear her remark as we near the cars because he snickers.
“Cutlass, where are you?” I raise my phone and look toward Corey and Palmer as they near Corey’s truck. “Will one of you text Ethan and see where in the hell he is and if he’s with Hannah?”