old enough to make our own decisions. But she will tell us I told you so when we—I—fuck up. Ben never does, so I’m intrigued by his remark.
“I saw on YouTube the other day that some guy pranked his roommate by filling his room with chickens. They shat everywhere. It was hilarious.”
“That sounds like a fit punishment, but where am I going to find dozens of chickens?”
Ben’s blue eyes light up. “Tammara’s parents own a farm. They have a chicken coop. I’m sure we can borrow them.”
I nibble on my bottom lip. It’s one thing for me to do something outrageous on my own. I can take the repercussions of my actions. I’m not sure if I want to involve Ben in my shenanigans.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should come up with something easier.”
His shoulders sag in disappointment. “Oh, okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”
10
TROY
My head is pounding when I get up. And don’t get me started with my mouth. It tastes like something died in it. I need a shower and a shave, but I only use the bathroom to relieve myself before I drag my feet downstairs for a damage report. I don’t know what time everyone finally left, but I’m glad I made it to my room alone. Waking up next to a random girl would have made this hellish morning even worse.
I stop halfway down the stairs and stare at the mess. It looks like a hurricane passed through. This will take hours to clean.
Fuck.
I sit on a step and text Andreas, cursing him for putting the idea of a party in my head. Technically, this isn’t his fault—I was the one who changed my mind—but I need a scapegoat, and I’m choosing him.
He asks for a picture of the chaos. Apparently, he left with two girls way before the party was over. Typical. I do as he said, and a minute later, he texts that he’ll come over to help. My bullshit alarm immediately rings. Andreas is not one to volunteer to do anything, especially a cleanup, but I’m too tired and hungover to question him.
I get my ass off the stairs and head to the kitchen. Coffee is in order and probably several painkillers. While I wait for it to brew, I investigate my fridge. As suspected, there’s nothing appealing inside. Not even Charlie’s food. Damn it. I text Andreas again, asking him to bring me something greasy.
He takes his sweet time, finally showing up forty minutes later. I’ve showered and changed already and just finished cleaning the kitchen when he opens the front door, wearing his leather jacket and sunglasses like he’s Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
“Help has arrived,” he announces, removing his glasses in a dramatic fashion.
“I didn’t think you’d show up,” I grumble.
“I said I’d come.” He looks over his shoulder. “Come on, guys. This place won’t clean itself.”
Five freshmen come through and immediately get to work. They don’t even ask where the cleaning supplies are, guessing their location.
“Who the hell are they?”
“New Pike pledges.” Andreas grins, taking a seat on a high stool by the kitchen counter. “Am I good or what?”
“How did you get these guys?”
He shrugs. “Unlike you, I cultivate relationships off the football field. I promised Leo tickets to the next game and a date with the head cheerleader.”
“You got Heather Castro to go out with him?” I quirk an eyebrow. “The Ice Queen of Rushmore?”
“Let’s say, I can be very persuasive.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down.
I narrow my eyes. “You didn’t fuck her, did you?”
Andreas looks surprised. “Are you crazy? She’s not my type.”
“She has a vagina. She is your type.”
He shakes his head. “No, I draw the line at colder-than-Siberia chicks.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This conversation is making my headache worse. I need to load up on carbs to soak up all the alcohol that’s still in my system.
“Fine. You can tell me the details of your deal later. Where’s my food?”
Andreas widens his eyes. “Oops. I forgot.”
“Dude! Come on.”
He jumps off the chair. “No worries. Let’s get some grub while the guys clean.”
“I’m not leaving them here alone.”
The dude closest to me pipes up, “It’s okay, Troy. We won’t break anything. Promise.”
Clenching my jaw, I debate between taking Andreas up on his offer and staying to supervise these guys. But in the end, the hole in my stomach wins. I need food, pronto.
“Fine. We’ll be back soon. Stay off the second floor,” I warn them.