“I—”
“You could invite them,” Quyen said. “Maybe that would make it easier since you already know them?”
“There’s no way Auden and Lennox are going to want to go to a frat’s freshman welcoming party,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I think that would be their idea of hell. They might break out in hives at the mere mention.”
“You don’t know if you don’t ask.” Quyen pummeled the bed in an excited little drumroll. “Come on, roomie. Let’s have some fun! Text them.”
O’Neal sighed, not wanting to go but unable to withstand the hopeful look on her friend’s face. Quyen really had been a godsend these last few weeks, helping O’Neal feel less alone on this big campus. So she saved her paper, closed her laptop, and then reached for her phone, feeling a little ridiculous but forcing herself to text anyway.
O’Neal: You said I could ask you for advice. Thoughts on frat boys inviting me and Quyen to a club for a freshman welcoming party?
The instant she sent it, her cheeks heated. Why would Auden want to weigh in on something so trivial? But it only took a few seconds for the phone to buzz.
Auden: Freshman welcoming party, my ass. Which frat?
O’Neal looked up. “He wants to know which frat?”
Quyen waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t know. Alpha Beta Hot Guy? Who knows? All I know is that it’s at the Railway Club.”
O’Neal: She doesn’t know. It’s at the Railway Club. I think I’m going to go because she’s really excited and doesn’t want to go solo. She wanted me to ask if y’all wanted to come but I know better.
Auden: You want us to go?
O’Neal: You don’t want to go hang out with frat guys and freshmen
Auden: Not my question
She sighed, appreciating that he would be willing to go if she needed him but hating that he’d only be doing it for all those big-brothery reasons.
O’Neal: I’ll be okay. I don’t need a babysitter or anything. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing something. Some secret code.
Auden: The invite is code for “I think you and your roommate are hot, come get drunk and sweaty on a dance floor with us.” Advice: don’t drink more than two drinks, watch your drinks poured, and don’t let them out of your sight. Call me if you need a sober ride
Huh. Actual advice and not a lecture. That was progress.
O’Neal: Thanks!
“So?” Quyen asked, bouncing a little on the bed. “Are they coming?”
“No.” O’Neal took a breath and gathered her courage. “But I am. Gotta rip the Band-Aid off some time, right?”
She lifted a fist in victory. “Yes! Now let’s see what I have in my closet that you can wear. Because I love you but…jeans and a T-shirt aren’t going to cut it tonight.”
“I—”
But Quyen was already grabbing O’Neal’s hand and dragging her toward her closet.
* * *
The music was poundingwhen they arrived, and O’Neal’s heart rate was outpacing the beat. Quyen had lent her a little black dress that hit her above mid-thigh and had a halter neck, so no option for a bra. After years of dressing in school uniforms on weekdays and jeans and T-shirts on weekends, she felt basically naked. Her entire back was just…out there.
She’d protested that it was too much—ortoo little,actually—but Quyen hadoohed andahhed over her so much that O’Neal had gotten a burst of borrowed confidence and had given in. Quyen had also done O’Neal’s makeup, teaching her how to wing her eyeliner a little and bring out her eyes with the shadow. The only battle O’Neal had won was over the shoes. Quyen had wanted her in heels, but O’Neal had insisted on a pair of strappy black gladiator-style flats. She wanted to have fun tonight, not end up in the hospital with a broken ankle.
Quyen hooked her arm with O’Neal’s as they waited in line at the door. Quyen had chosen a green strapless dress that hugged her body and brought out the pretty, warm tone of her skin. She also had heels high enough to bring her almost to O’Neal’s height. She leaned into O’Neal, bumping shoulders with her.
“Thanks so much for coming with. I know this is out of your comfort zone. If you hate it, we’ll leave.”
O’Neal smiled despite the butterflies in her stomach. “I’ll do my best not to hate it.”