Premature Evacuation (Underground Sorority #1) (2 page)

Corey looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mac.”

I opened my mouth to correct the name, but then snapped it shut. I liked the way the nickname—one I never used—sounded on his lips.

“You joined a good house. Rho Sig has my fave girls in it.”

Bianca’s entire face lit up. “
All
the girls? Or just this one.” The way she batted her eyelashes at him could only mean one thing: out of all the fraternity guys in all the schools, this one was
her
favorite. Too bad for me…he had an adorable smile.

He wielded that smile into something that could only be described as
mischievous
. “Don’t get too excited, Bianca. I only like you girls because you’re the easiest.”

Bianca scoffed and pushed him. Hard.

Without so much as a flinch, he took a sip from his red plastic cup and gave a raspy laugh. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Corey’s comment about Rho Sigma girls made my fingers shake. I wasn’t a virgin but I was definitely virginal. I used to think that was a virtue…but maybe it was a problem.

Corey gestured for us to follow him onto the spacious balcony. One by one, we climbed through the window. Just to prove Corey’s comment wrong, instead of climbing face first with my butt exposed to the room like everyone else, I sat on the sill sideways and carefully slid one leg through at a time, like a real lady mounting a horse in the Renaissance. Once outside, Corey poured us each a beer from the keg that rested on the wooden planks. A cool breeze made the fluffy green trees sway in the background, the leaves clinging to the branches for dear life before winter descended as early as September and turned everything colorful to murky gray. Stupid Upstate New York.

Erin spun around, perching her hands on her hips, her arms bent at perfect right angles. “Wow, how’d you score this room?” She leaned into me. “Last year his room was barely big enough for a twin bed
and
a place to stand beside it.”

Corey shrugged. “No one wanted a double. We’re lucky bastards.”

Bianca rubbed her arms. “You guys, I’m cold. Can we go back inside?”

I tipped my cup back and downed some beer to combat the goosebumps popping along my arms.
From the cold,
I told myself.

“No, you gotta see something first. Look down.” Corey laughed, rubbing his palm along the back of his neck.

All three of us set our beers on the ledge and peered over. Dots of white debris littered the lawn like clamshells strewn across a beach.

“What
is
that?” Erin asked.

“Dishes.” Corey wore a sheepish grin.

“Corey! That’s so disgusting. Ew, I’m going inside.” Bianca smacked him across the arm before she retreated into the room.

“You guys are so lazy.” Erin shook her head at him. “Is it that hard to walk downstairs and put them in the dishwasher?”

“This was more fun.”

“Animals,” Erin said. “We’re friends with animals.” She stepped back from the ledge with hands raised in the air as if she wanted to avoid touching anything else.

“Noted.” Corey turned to me, brow raised. “I’m awaiting your verdict.”

I took a sip of my beer, but I could hardly taste it. I was a wax figurine at Madam Tussaud’s, a lifeless replica of myself. “I actually did something similar last year for the freshman art show. An installation piece. Broken every day objects scattered across the exhibition hall to represent daily obstacles we face in life.”

Corey blinked at me. My heart leaped into my chest. Oh God, my stupid mouth started talking about my stupid art again. I had to stop doing that, at least outside my art criticism classes. For some reason I never led with the one fact people actually found cool: I was a 3D animation major. At least that topic usually led to discussions about which movie had the sickest visual effects. But then Corey raised his arm in cheer. “See? She gets it. That’s exactly what I was going for: broken china as a representation of how fragile our reality is.”

I chuckled. He did get it.

“Oh! We got a smile out of you!” He pointed his beer at me.

My smile grew wider. Ugh. Being in a serious relationship for three years had made me too susceptible to cheesy pick-up lines. I pushed my auburn hair behind my ear and squared my shoulders. “Only because I’m picturing you painstakingly picking up ceramic scraps tomorrow. In the rain. While shirtless.”

He raised a brow. “I’m going to be shirtless tomorrow?”

I bit my lip. I should
not
have said that. Especially if my suspicion was correct and Bianca liked him. “I’m presuming you would try to show off,” I countered instead of saying what I wanted to say:
hopefully.

“She’s right, you better clean it up yourself!” Inside the room, Bianca’s heels clicked over the roar of boys screaming obscenities at the video game.

Corey poked his head into the room and yelled to her, “Shirtless?”

She twisted to one of the guys, looked away, sat on the bed, got up. Finally, she sighed, rummaged through Corey’s drawer, and came back onto the balcony.

“I knew you couldn’t resist my charms for long.” Corey waved her toward the balcony ledge like an air traffic controller. “Should I start stripping now or…?”

Bianca rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth quirked upward. “Actually, I just wanted to know if you guys were coming out with us tonight or not. The hour will not be considered
happy
for much longer.”

Corey cupped his hands around the sides of his mouth like parentheses to yell into the room. “Hey Nate. Want to go to Quigley’s with three beautiful girls or are you just planning on hanging with sausage all night?”

Beautiful
. He called me beautiful.

Plastic crashed as the guys tossed their controllers onto the floor. The one who must be Nate sauntered toward us and climbed outside. Bianca inched over to give him space on the balcony, her gaze directed right at him.

“I assume the beautiful girls you’re referring to are not these three?” He waved a finger between us and snorted a laugh that toned down his attractive quality by several meters. His sparkling blue eyes, chiseled jaw, and shoulders that proved he knew where the gym was located on campus defined him as a pretty boy.

“And just for that, we’re leaving. For real this time. Come on, ladies, let’s find some guys who actually appreciate us.” Bianca slithered back inside and stomped toward the doorway, her hips slapping the air with each sway.

Corey pursed his lips and shook his head at Nate. “Is it too late to find a new roommate? Because the one I have seems to be defective.”

“I’m with Bianca on this one.” Erin gave Corey a big hug. “Good seeing you again.” She offered Nate only a chin nod as she brushed past him to climb through the window.

“Oh man, you got the cold shoulder from both of them.” Corey laughed. Nate followed the girls inside, leaving me alone with the guy who called us—
me
—beautiful. I started to follow Erin inside when Corey tugged on the back of my shirt. “What? I don’t get a goodbye hug?”

He pulled me into his arms, his faint musky cologne scent engulfing me. His hold on me loosened, but I didn’t move from my spot. All of a sudden the entire revolution of the Earth depended on the tightness of his grip. He brought his lips to my ear, his warm breath sending shivers through me. “It was really nice meeting you, Mac.”

“Mackenzie! What are you
doing
? I hope it’s not Corey,” Bianca called from inside.

He laughed and pulled himself away from me, inching toward the balcony.

Too bad he was exactly what I wanted to do.

A
FTER WE LEFT COREY’S fraternity and Bianca realized the boys weren’t joining us, she decided she no longer felt like going to the bar. But she promised we’d make up for it the next night. Of course, I messed up my outfit again. I dressed down in jeans, ballet flats, and a crew-neck top only for my mouth to flop open when Bianca sauntered out of the house decked out in a dangerously low cut body hugging dress and wedge heels. I couldn’t win!

“Where’s Erin?” I rubbed my hands over my arms. Only two days back at school and already temperatures dipped below comfortable weather at night.

“Studying. What the hell. She’s only had one class so far!”

I bit my lip. My one class so far had dropped a hefty animation assignment on my shoulders already. I should really be in the graphics lab.

Quigley’s was a cross between a homey family reunion and a trash compactor. Bodies squeezed into the narrow space, pushing each other for proximity at the counter. Darkness coated every inch, shading patrons in stark chiaroscuro. Every few steps Bianca ran into another person she knew—a Rho Sigma sister or a classmate—and exchanged both smiles and tall tales about their summers. Most people blinked at me as if trying to remember who I was. Music blasted, ranging from pop crap that must have contained subliminal dancing messages to catchy oldies the entire crowd belted out in unison. I bobbed my head to some cheesy song I would never admit to actually liking as we made our way to the counter.

While we waited for our drinks, I let my attention fly to the door. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for exactly until I found myself being disappointed by every single person who walked through. “Are your friends—” I clamped my mouth shut mid-sentence as the answer to my question stepped inside. Corey’s button down shirt looked clean and classy compared to Nate’s faded Throckmorton football t-shirt.

Bianca thrust a rum and diet into my hand. “Are my friends…what?” She followed my line of vision. “Oh, yay! They’re here.” She raised a hand in the air, her gold bracelets shooting down to her elbow, and waved.

The boys jutted a chin nod at us and then weaved through the crowd in our direction, stopping first at an open spot at the counter. With drinks in hand, they completed their journey toward us.

“Glad you guys decided not to be lame again,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“Yeah, you really missed out on a great time last night.” I held Corey’s gaze. “I held up my end of the promise.”

Corey’s brow shot way up. “The naked promise?”

“Oh please.” Bianca flipped her dark hair back behind her shoulder in one broad, ballet twirl as if she were in a shampoo commercial. The black light illuminating the bar made Nate’s vodka tonic shimmer an impossible electric blue and sent the same shimmer along Bianca’s strands, further advertising her as if she was a product. “She’s referring to the shower she took last night to wash off the filth from your room.”

Corey laughed. Which made me laugh.

“Oh!” he said. “There’s that smile again. I knew I’d never forget it.”

I bit my lower lip to keep from smiling wider. But then my smile dropped all together when I spotted Bianca’s scrunched up face.

“I’m heading to the dance floor before this conversation gives me a sugar headache.” She strutted a few feet away, gyrating her hips in a sultry way as she trailed her fingers down the side of her curves. She spun around and wiggled her index finger at the boys, a come hither look on her face.

They both downed their drinks in an instant and slammed the empty cups on the bar. Within moments they surrounded her as she swung her hips in sync with both of them simultaneously. I slowly pulled the straw out of my glass then plunged it back in, repeating the motion. I wasn’t about to make the threesome into a conga line.

After the song ended, Corey broke away and squeezed into a non-existent space next to me at the counter. Bianca snapped her head in our direction as she continued grinding with Nate. Corey peered over the top of my cup. “Rum and coke? Lame. I’m buying you a shot.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” After all, he barely knew me. He was probably only being polite because I was Bianca’s friend.

But he ignored me. The bartender plunked two square glasses on the table. He filled each to the top with a creamy cerulean liquid and then swirled a dollop of grenadine into the oceany blend. Whipped cream became a hat.

Corey leaned in and whispered in my ear, his breath hot. “It’s called
Smurf on the Red.”

I studied the concoction, tilting it until the whipped cream jiggled.

Corey grinned. “It’s supposed to look like Smurfette on her period.”

“Oh God,” I said, earning a laugh from him. “Now I get why you called my rum and diet drink lame.”

Corey tapped his glass against mine. “Cheers!” He wrapped his mouth around the edges of the glass and flung his head backward. I followed suit. My mouth foamed with a milky citrus taste, a hint of something spicy as an afterthought. The burn in my esophagus didn’t hit me until several seconds later, and I felt the poetic juxtaposition of pleasure and pain. “Definitely tastes better than I thought.” I wiped the whipped cream mustache from my lips.

“I’m supposed to say, ‘that’s what she said!’ in response, aren’t I?” He raised a brow. “But I would never say that.” He playfully tapped my upper back. The ephemeral feeling of his touch stuck on me like cracked nail polish. He started fidgeting in his pocket as he glanced back toward Bianca and Nate, who still danced with at least an inch of space separating them. My stomach twisted as the inevitable loomed—him walking away.