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We chat about their chances of making it to the Super Bowl until I realize Lennon’s not standing by cornhole any longer. She’s under the oak tree, talking with Drew, Jessica, and Sophie.
I tell Joe I’ll see him later and head toward their group. I’m sure it will just be a matter of time before Jamie shows up to fight for Jessica’s attention.
“That was a quick game,” I say when I reach them.
“Yeah.” Drew sighs, which tells me the outcome.
He’s a sore loser.
“Still working on that hand-eye coordination, Len?” I tease.
She scoffs before sipping her drink.
I smile, then glance at the other girls. “Hey, Jessica. Sophie.”
Both girls are already looking at me. And also eyeing Lennon.
“You guys just get here?” I aim the question at Jessica, because I’m never sure how to act around Sophie now.
“I was just introducing them,” Drew says.
“I didn’t see you guys come in,” I say to Jessica. I don’t want to be a dick and ignore Sophie. But I’m also sick of her games.
“We came in through the back gate,” Jessica explains. “Maggie said things are getting crazy inside.”
“Great,” I deadpan, glancing at Drew. I advocated for having the freshmen’s house host tonight. “Hope you remembered to lock your door, man.”
“I did,” he assures me.
“I was wondering when you ladies were going to show up.” Jamie joins our circle, right on cue.
Elliot’s behind him, rolling his eyes.
Lennon steps to the side to let them join our loose grouping, placing her directly in front of me. I sling my arm around her waist and pull her into my body. She tilts her head back to look at me.
“Can I have some of your beer?”
I glance at her empty cup, then hand the bottle to her. “You hate beer.”
“I talked to Cassie earlier. She said I should try new things,” Lennon replies, confirming my assumption Cassie was involved in the outfit she’s wearing tonight. I’m not sure if I should be grateful or not. The skirt and top are similar to what a lot of other girls are wearing.
But it’s different on Lennon.
Partly because I keep picturing her kneeling in front of me while wearing it.
“Cassie isn’t the one who’s going to have to carry your lightweight ass upstairs,” I respond.
Lennon grins at me around the bottle. “Fine by me.”
I roll my eyes.
“So Lennon, how are you liking Clarkson so far?”
Sophie’s question breaks through the group’s chatter. The side conversations cease, everyone waiting to hear Lennon’s answer. I squeeze her waist once, knowing the attention is probably making her feel uncomfortable. We’re not in Landry any longer, amidst people who Lennon has known since kindergarten. These are all strangers, from her perspective.
“It’s great,” Lennon replies. She smiles. “So far, so good!”
I squeeze her waist again. Lennon takes another sip of my beer, then hands it back to me.
