rises up inside of me. I think this was a mistake.
When we pull up to a frat house a few minutes later, my bad feeling only spreads outward. Panic clings to my insides like glue.
This feels all too familiar, and last time, the night ended badly.
Cage puts the truck in park and looks at me over his shoulder. “You okay? You look worried or like you might puke.”
“I’m just a bit nervous… I’m afraid I’m not going to fit in,” I admit, keeping the other part to myself. The part where I’m worried about what people might think seeing us together. People finally stopped calling me Ice Queen. I don’t need the rumor mill to start up again, or for people to think we’re an item just because they see us together.
“If anyone says anything to you, tell me, and I’ll let them know where to go with their opinion.” I can’t stifle the smile that splits my face.
“Same. I’ll kick their asses if they say anything mean. Any friend of Cage’s is a friend of mine,” Murphy adds, winking at me.
“See, nothing to worry about.”
Easier said than done. Of course, the two most popular guys on campus would think it’s that easy.
My anxiety only lessens a smidge, and I think I might barf, but I still get out of the truck and walk up to the house with Cage and Murphy flanking me on either side.
There is a crowd of people sitting on the porch, and as we walk up, every pair of eyes is on us, only fueling my concern.
A few guys greet Murphy and Cage with chin nods and fist bumps, but no one says a thing to me. When we get inside the crowded house, it doesn’t get any better, only worse. Music blares from speakers scattered about the room. The house is an exact replica of the night I met Cage.
Everything inside me tells me to turn around and run.
Cage leads us through the living room and toward the back of the house. We end up in a sunroom, where it’s less crowded and quieter.
“Better?” Cage asks, regarding me.
“Much.” I nod my head.
“I’ll get us something to drink,” Murphy says before disappearing back into the house.
We sit down on what looks like patio furniture in the corner of the room, and I wring my hands together in my lap as I peer around the small room.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He repeats his earlier question from in the truck. I don’t miss his need to ensure I’m okay, which means a lot to me.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Just not used to all of this.”
“Here, this will help calm your nerves.” Murphy comes up to my side and hands me a plastic cup. Red liquid sloshes up the sides, and I wonder what this concoction is.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking the cup from him. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale. It’s got a fruity scent, but I can definitely smell the alcohol in there as well.
“Fruit punch and vodka. I didn’t put a lot of booze in there. I wasn’t sure how much you’ve drunk before; I didn’t want to put you on your ass with one drink. I got you, Nerd.” He grins like we’re best friends. “Oh, and don’t take a drink from anyone besides Cage and me, okay?”
“Sure, why?”
“Just don’t.” He takes a seat and hands Cage a bottle of beer. They remove the tops and take long drinks. Deciding to do the same, I bring the cup to my lips and take a gulp of the bright red liquid. There is a tiny burn as the mixture slides down my throat, and my eyes water a fraction, but I ignore it and continue drinking.
“Good?” Murphy asks, perched beside Cage.
“Yes, surprisingly. I don’t often drink, maybe a glass of wine here and there, but this is pretty good.”
“Of course, it is. I made it,” he arrogantly boasts, and I shake my head and roll my eyes.
Cage chuckles. “Dude, she’s immune to our arrogance.”
“You mean your arrogance. She just met me,” Murphy flirts aimlessly.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I tell him.
“See,” Cage says, tipping his beer at Murphy.
They break out into conversation a moment later, discussing something football-related, and I drown them out. Drinking more of the fruity beverage, I pull out my phone and text Mia.
Me: I did it. I went to a party with football guy.
Almost instantly, she replies back.
Mia: Oh my god. I need all the details tomorrow. Are