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“I’m relaxed. I’m fine.”
“Girl...”
I hold my breath. “I’m fine,” I squeak.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asks, shrugging.
I furrow my brow as I flashback to various events of our friendship, each one including Jenna taking me by the shoulders and saying, “What’s the worst that can happen?” just like right now.
“Being charged with a misdemeanor, for starters,” I answer. “Possibly a felony.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re using it to sip Bud Light at a frat party, not to purchase a firearm.”
I glare. I hate it when she quotes actual laws at me. Her mother, the Honorable Judge Jenna Abrams Sr., would be proud.
“Fine,” I say, straightening up with feigned confidence. “I just walk up, flash it, and that’s it.”
“That’s it,” she confirms. “Besides, you look really cute in that dress. I bet there’s not a single man in there who wouldn’t lick your feet.”
I perk up. “Really?” I frown. “Ew.”
Jenna shrugs. “Men are weird, honey.” She hooks our arms again, and we travel up the sidewalk with the rest of the line. “So very weird.”
As we approach, I keep my eyes down. I try not to wipe my sweaty palms on my borrowed dress. I focus on my stride, careful not to trip on the stairs in these slightly too big heels.
Just walk up, flash it, and that’s it.
Easy peasy.
“Oh, hey, it’s Resting Prick Face!” Jenna whispers at me.
I jolt my head up. “What?”
My stomach erupts with butterflies.
Drew.
He hasn’t seen me yet. He stands in the house’s doorway in a tight white t-shirt and blue jeans; the simplest of styles, but he’s just as breathtaking as always.
“Let’s hope he’s nicer than his face,” Jenna says.
He is, I think to myself. He very much is.
Drew hands an ID back to the girl ahead of us and picks up a stamp from the table inside, along with a pad of red ink. The girl presents the back of her hand and he stamps it with a skull and crossbones, which I assume means UNDER 21.
“Welcome to Delta Xi,” he says to her as he motions her inside. “Be safe.”
He waves his hand to move the line forward and spots me. That bored look on his face instantly rises with interest as he motions Jenna and I closer to the door.
Jenna tugs me forward, my ankles somehow merging with the wooden porch.
“Good evening, ladies,” Drew greets us. “IDs?”
Jenna rolls her eyes. “Oh, this old thing?” she says, feigning annoyance as she hands hers over to him.
Drew glances at it for a moment before nodding and giving it back. “Welcome to Delta Xi, Ms. Marshall.”
Jenna smiles. “Thank you, sir. I just love American hospitality!”
