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Why did I think this was a good idea?
Oh, yeah, the slight chance of getting to hang out with Nick again.
Yay party.
Note the sarcasm.
There’s no way, in the mix of all these beautiful sexy girls that Nick Miller will even notice I’m here.
We squeeze through to the kitchen and there he is leaning against the counter talking to, of course, a beautiful girl.
Not just any girl, no, that would’ve been better if it was some random fangirl or puck bunny.
Nope.
It has to be Cora Linchinsky. Also, known as Cora the Beast, for the way she plays on the women’s hockey team. She is a beast on the ice, knocking down large players despite her small size.
Of course, she’s talking to Nick. They’re like the sexual fantasy dream team of hockey together.
“Ok, can we go now?” I hiss, at my friends, while looking around for the best way to make my escape.
“What? No! We just got here!” Layla hands me a cup filled with some sort of punch. “Drink that and let’s go dance.”
“Remember, let’s just have fun. Forget him.” Bridget adds, noticing my gaze watching Nick playfully flick Cora’s hair.
After a cup of that punch and a beer, I do forget him.
The guys have turned their living room into a dance floor, and regardless of how loud and irritating the music is, it's fun to dance and forget all about Nick and anyone else around us.
I don’t know what was in that punch, but I’m already tipsy after the one cup. I switched to beer so I don’t get too drunk and I can’t even finish that.
“Where’d Layla go?” I shout at Bridget over the music.
Layla went to get another drink but that feels like forever ago.
I steer Bridget away to go find her.
But before we can make it out, some guy I don’t know stops Bridget. I can tell she likes him by the way she tucks her hair behind her ear and fixes her glasses.
She introduces him by shouting in my ear, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. I mouth a ‘hi’ and wave.
They’re talking into each other’s ear and I can’t hear anything.
“I’m going to go find Layla.” I whisper-shout, pulling Bridget back for a second.
Bridget nods, turning her attention back to the very put together guy she seems to be smitten over.
He almost looks uncomfortable in plain clothes rather than a suit and tie. He has to be from one of her law classes or something.
I squeeze through more people until I find Layla.
She’s standing against the wall talking to Greg Hurst, defenseman in the first line for Drexton Hall. He’s huge, over six feet tall, and broad. Compared to little petite Layla, he towers over her.
He’s leaning close and she laughs at something he said, throwing her head back and rubbing her hand down his arm.
Great, looks like I’m alone.
Another reason why I hate parties. I always end up alone fidgeting in the corner watching my friends talk with other people they know.
