“It has aname?”
He nods. “Oh yeah. Maybe burn the clothes you wore yesterday, and we definitely need to help you forget. Nothing good happens there. It’s like acurse.”
I already have a curse, and it’s not like I need any more of those.
Groaning, I slump back in my chair. “I don’t know if I have it in me to go out twice in a row.”
Callum turns toward me. “It’s the weekend, we have a week off, and you aren’tthatold.”
I scoff and throw a stray coaster at Ian, which he catches. “Stop teaching your boyfriend to be a smartass. I miss when he was polite.”
Callum huffs and smacks my head, which is yet another habit he’s picking up from Ian the Shithead.
“He’s a fast learner. Not my fault.” Ian cracks his beer, thinking. “Let’s go to The Barrel? Steve is initiating the team rookies tonight.”
All two of them?
I haven’t kept up with the group chat, but I vaguely remember something about an outing. “Fine, let’s do it,” I say, opening my own beer. “It’s not like we have another option since you baby juniors refuse to get fake IDs.”
CHAPTER TEN
DEAN
“Fuck, he pushed me off of him,” I groan. “And then he ran off because I’m an asshole who pushed for too much.”
Claire sticks out a stiff arm and pats my back exactly twice. “That…sucks. Sorry.”
I know she means well, but I learned very quickly not to expect much comfort to come from the likes of her.
“Yeah. It’s whatever,” I mutter. “But I really thought there was something there.”
Sighing, Claire offers her bottle of tequila to me, which I refuse with a shake of my head. “Look, Nick could be going through something. Don’t overthink things.”
Easier said than done.
“Thisis exactly why I don't try hooking up with guys I already know,” I add. “Because fucking it up is more than a strike to my ego.”
“Hey, we should go out tonight so you can stop moping around,” she suggests, and I’m grateful for the subject change. “I’ll snag a table at Fusion, or we can go to The Barrel.”
Neither of those options sound appealing, but I'm feeling a dive bar more than a dark, expensive club. “Let's do The Barrel.”
Claire’s phone is out within a second, and she sends a barrage of messages in quick succession to someone before getting a reply. “My brother’s there with a few of his friends. Let’s join them.”
I stay firmly planted on my couch. “Your brother’s on the baseball team. Who exactly is he with?”
A flicker of realization crosses her face, and she sendsanother message. “The two freshmen, and everyone except Nick, Jeremy, and Ian. The baseball team is having a freshman initiation night.”
“At abar?” That’s met with nothing more than a shrug, so I continue. “Okay, let’s go, I guess.”
“Come on, man. Where’s theenergy?” Claire dumps some of my vodka into a glass along with some of the lemon soda she brought. “Take this and get changed. Maybe into something less boring than yesterday.”
I comply, accepting the drink and dragging my feet into my bedroom. The Barrel isn’t where you go if you’re dressed nicely, so I grab a random pair of black pants and a sweater that’s half a size too large. Wincing, I down the mixture Claire poured for me, holding my breath as the liquid burns my throat, and give my head a shake.
Then the two of us put our jackets on and make the short walk over to WMU’s infamous dive bar that walks a fine line between serving underage college kids and staying in business.
“Oh, and if my brother hits on you, pour a drink over his head for me, won’t you?” Claire says right before we walk in.
“Wait, he’s?—”
