is that all it is?”
“Please don’t make me spell it out for you,” I quip.
He tips his head, like he doesn’t get why I so desperately want to hide from my screwed-up family.
“I don’t want the fame,” I whisper. “I never asked for it. The longer I can go with no one knowing, the better, you know?”
“Yeah.” He finally nods, although he still looks hesitant. “Okay. It’s your party, so you wear whatever you want. It’s actually very Clark Kent.” His lips dip thoughtfully. “I mean, no one ever spots the similarities between Superman and Clark Kent, right? They look completely different.”
I parry his sarcasm with a very dry look that only makes him grin.
Stomping past him, I grab the high-heel boots I wore from LA and start slipping them on.
“You know the place we’re going to is over half a mile away, right?”
“Yeah, I thought it’d be a nice night to walk.”
“And not have anyone see the flash car you’re driving.”
I ignore his jab and zip my boots.
“Are you sure those heels aren’t too high?”
“I wear heels all the time.”
“You don’t have to. It could be part of your whole Indy Bardot look. A pair of Converses would look totally awesome with those jeans and be way more comfortable.”
I snort and shake my head. “Heels are fine. I don’t need to change that about myself.”
“You mean you don’t want to.”
“Of course I don’t!” I spread my arms wide. “No heels and I’m like the shortest girl in the room.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Says the giant.” I rest my fist on my hip and point at him. Even with my heels on, I still only reach his shoulder. It’s ridiculous.
I won’t wear any of my super-expensive heels, but I’m keeping these boots and a few of my faves. They still match my new look, so I’m going with it.
He grins and opens the door for me. “Tell me about this party tonight.”
“Well, it’s a freshmen mixer. Not official. Just being put on by this senior who wants to help his kid brother make friends and stuff.”
“Uh-huh.” He nods. “So, not supervised, then?”
“I said there’ll be seniors there. Guys who are your age and older.”
“Guys who have easy access to alcohol.”
I try to give him my best pointed look. “I don’t see why that should be an issue. I’m not old enough to drink.”
“Yet you will.” He narrows his eyes at me, then puts on a stern face. "No getting drunk. I only just got this job, and I kinda want to keep it. My ass is already on the line with this whole fake friends/roommates business. You are not getting me fired on my first day.“
My lips break into a smile before I can stop it, but I quickly pull my mouth straight so he knows I’m serious. “I’m not going there to get wasted. I just want to meet Tabby face-to-face for the first time and maybe make some new friends. That’s it.”
“Okay. I’m holding you to that.”
I nod, then swallow, the enormity of what I’m doing suddenly catching up to me.
What if I walk in there and someone recognizes me? What if they draw everyone’s attention to me and suddenly I’m front and center, just where I don’t want to be?
What if no one likes me?
This could be a disaster.
Bail! Bail now!
You can’t! This is what you wanted.
“You all right?” Brody’s large hand lightly touches my elbow and I jolt, forcing my head to bob up and down like I’m totally cool and not internally freaking out.
“I’m good. Just excited.” I want to smile and reassure him that I’m all good, but my lips can barely twitch, so I keep walking, picking up my pace.
Brody doesn’t say anything, sliding his hands into his jean pockets and ambling along beside me. His long strides match at least two of my hurried steps, so he’s keeping pace with me and making it look like a stroll through Central Park.
“So, tell me about Tabby. How’d you guys meet?”
I start telling him, talking about Instagram and our initial conversations. The chatter relaxes me a little, and before I know it, we’re turning into the address Tabby gave me over the phone.
The sprawling Spanish-style home is lit up like a Christmas tree, and music is pounding out of it. Like a beast that’s burping sick beats, it strobes in the darkness and makes me feel even smaller than I already am.
I stutter to a stop.
Brody rests his hand on my lower back. His