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Feeling buzzed, I watched as Casey backed her ass up against some dark-haired boy from Tommen and feigned a stagger.
I rolled my eyes when he grabbed her hips to steady her, which was exactly what she wanted.
She was so predictable.
“Thanks,” Casey said, beaming up at him.
“No problem.”
“What’s your name?” she asked, stepping closer.
“Patrick,” he told her, offering her a shy smile. “What’s yours?”
Run, Patrick, run, I felt like shouting, she’s going to eat you alive, you poor innocent fool.
“I’m Casey.” With one hand curled around his neck, she fisted his shirt with the other and tugged his big body close against her. “So, Patrick.” Trailing her hand from his neck to his cheek, she pulled his face down to hers and beamed up at him. “What year are you in?”
“Fifth year, you?”
“Sixth year.”
“At BCS?”
“Uh-huh. Do you play rugby, Patrick?”
He nodded. “I’m an inside center.”
“Excellent.”
Yeah, my best friend was the meaning behind that small but fierce saying.
She needed a wingwoman like a fish needed Rollerblades.
“That’s Patrick Feely,” Katie explained in my ear. “He’s good friends with Hugh.”
“And that’s Hugh’s younger sister, right?” I asked, pointing out the stunning blond with a head of to-die-for curls who was sitting on the couch opposite us, dressed as Baby Spice.
I watched, completely invested in the animated conversation she was having with an equally beautiful blond boy dressed like a Malibu Ken doll I used to own back in the day. They were all smiles and hands flailing as they talked and laughed and touched each other.
“Yeah, that’s Claire,” Katie replied. “She’s probably one of the sweetest girls that you’ll ever meet.”
I narrowed my eyes as recognition flickered through me. “Wait a minute. I think I know that guy she’s talking to.”
“Everybody knows Gerard Gibson.” Katie chuckled.
“He offered Joey a condom in Biddies once.”
“Sounds very Gibsie-like.” Katie bit back a laugh. “He’s, uh, well, let’s just say that he’s one of a kind. He sort of lives in his own world.”
B*Witched’s “C’est la Vie” started to play, and I swear to God, this Gibsie boy all but levitated from the couch with excitement, dragging Claire along with him.
“She clearly lives in that world with him,” I mused, feeling myself smile for the first time in weeks as I watched them.
Bopping around and throwing shapes like nobody was watching, Gibsie and Claire danced around the living room to what was clearly their jam, him spinning her out and then pulling her back to his chest as they stumble-waltzed to the music.
“I’m guessing they’ve been together since forever, am I right?”
“They’re actually not together at all.”
