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“And put these on, too,” she says, shoving strappy black heels into my hands. “You’re going to look so hot.” She whistles when I’m finished. “Day-um.It looks even hotter on you now than it did in the boutique. I’m going to have the sexiest wingwoman tonight.”
I run a hand down the dress with a satisfied smile. “Thank you. I still need to pay you back for it.”
She waves off my response. “Consider it a dorm-warming gift. Now, put on some makeup, and let’s blow this joint. Lewis, the guy with dreads down the hall, is having predrinks in his room. We’ll pregame and then go party-hopping.”
I nod, quickly putting in my contacts, swiping on mascara, and adding light-pink gloss to my lips. She grabs my hand as soon as I slide the lip gloss into my bag and hauls me down the hallway.
The fact that I don’t break an ankle in the heels is a miracle.
I still have the rest of the night to worry about it, though.
I’m not the most coordinated person wearing flats, so fingers crossed I don’t bust my ass.
“Margie, you brought a friend!” a guy calls out when we walk in.
His dreads are a sure sign he’s Lewis. I’ve also passed him in the hall a few times since our dorm is coed.
Rex isn’t a fan of mycoedliving situation and has suggested I request a transfer more times than I can count.
I notice three guys and a girl in the corner of the room, their attention glued to their phones.
Lewis shuts the door and points at me. “I’ve seen you before. You’re in my Social Science class.”
I nod and offer a friendly smile.
“For that, I’m making you a drink.”
He takes the few steps to a desk covered with alcohol bottles and sodas. My eyes widen as he hurriedly pours vodka into a red Solo cup and adds a splash of Pepsi. He has a dopey smile on his face when he hands it to me.
Margie plucks it from my hand in seconds. “You’re not drinking this.” She gives it back to Lewis, pats my shoulder, and grabs a bottle of beer from the other desk. “Here, this is much more your style, babe.”
My style is actually tequila. It’s the drink Rex and I secretly and frequently sipped on in his room, straight out of Gatorade bottles.
Margie points at me. “Don’t take anything from anyone while we’re out tonight.”
Margie reminds me of Rex.
Apparently, I have an affinity for people who like to boss me around.
“I’m a big girl,” I say. “Older than you as a matter of fact.”
“Is that why you go to bed at the same time as my grandma?” Her face turns serious. “Carolina, I love you and all, but you fail at the party scene. Lewis could’ve handed you roofied mouthwash, and you would’ve trusted him and drunk it.”
“Okay, you’re rude,” I mutter.
“Stay by my side. Don’t accept drinks from creeps. Steer clear of frat guys.”
“I’ll do my best not to drink drugged Listerine, Mom.”
She kisses my cheek. “That’s my girl.”
* * *
The house is crowdedwhen we walk in. A different song pounds from every room, and my shoulders bump into people when I follow Margie into the kitchen.
“You fucking suck!”
I wheel around, finding a group of people crowded around a beat-up, graffitied beer pong table. A guy at the far end grabs a red Solo cup and chugs down the remnants in seconds.
