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“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s definitely my shirt.”
It was one of my favorites before that night. I’d recognize it anywhere. I contemplated buying a new one, but it was understandably ruined for me after that so I decided against it.
“Unbelievable,” Mali huffs. “No. We’re not doing this. They arenotruining our birthday.”
She’s right. It’s bad enough it ruined Hayes’s. But as she starts to storm over to the girl, I’m thinking the three days she went without a drink may have made the tequila a little too strong.
“You,” she demands. “Let me talk to you for a minute.”
The girl looks genuinely confused, looking around to see if Mali is actually talking to her, and then agrees. Mali leads the way, taking her into the back room, and I sigh heavily as Hayes, Cam, and I follow her.
“Where’d you get that shirt?” Mali questions.
She glances down to look at her shirt and then back at Mal. “Someone gave it to me. They bet me two-hundred dollars that I wouldn’t wear it here tonight. I showed them, didn’t I?”
My best friend pretends to laugh before turning serious. “I need you to give it to me.”
“What?”
“I’m serious.” She gestures to the shirt. “Give it to me.”
Her eyes double in size as she turns to the rest of us for help. “B-but I don’t have anything but a bra on under it.”
Mali rolls her eyes, and grips the bottom of her own shirt, lifting it over her head. “Here. You can have mine, but you need to give me that one.”
It’s a win-win for her. She doesn’t need to walk around in a shirt that looks like someone pulled it out of a crime scene—which is unfortunately exactly what it is. Mali and I give the guys a look and they turn around as the girl changes shirts.
“This is super cute!” she says excitedly. “Thanks!”
“You could thank us by telling us who dared you to wear it here,” I tell her.
But unfortunately, she purses her lips and shakes her head. “I didn’t know them. My friends and I play this extreme game of truth or dare in this app. Anyone can dare you anything. The shirt was delivered to my door.”
Son of a bitch.
Hayes’s brows furrow. “How old are you?”
The smile drops off her face, like she knows she’s fucked. “Seventeen.”
He up-nods at Cam who puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, little one. I’m going to need to escort you out of here.”
“Man, I should’ve lied,” she whines. “My mom was wrong. Honesty isnotthe best policy.”
As Cam closes the door behind him again, I turn to Mali.
“That was sweet and all, but what are you going to do now?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “What do you mean? I’ll just go out there in my bra.”
Hayes and I snort in unison. “Are youtryingto get Cam put back on probation? One guy out there even blinks your direction and he’s going to go all possessive boyfriend mode. He’s worse than Hayes.”
“Doubtful, but I get your point,” he murmurs.
Mali and I look around the room for any kind of merch, but there isn’t any. Just cases of beer, garbage bags, and paper towels, which would work if this was an Anything but Clothes party, but it’s not.
There’s no other solution I can think of except one.
“Here.” I take off my own shirt and toss it to her. “Wear that.”
