We walked through the living room at Michael’s house, searching the crowd for his face, Serena’s hand in mine as we made our way through all the people, our noses assaulted with the worst combination of men’s body spray and stale beer.
“I don’t see him,” I shouted.
Serena responded, but I couldn’t make out what she said. I looked over my shoulder so I could see her mouth.
“Kitchen,” she repeated.
I nodded and pushed forward. The kitchen was in the back of the house, through the living room and dining room. We passed two guys standing on the couch, sword fighting with plastic light sabers. A group huddled around the TV as two guys wearing headsets screamed and shot video guns with game controllers. We slipped past a couple whispering harshly at each other in the kitchen doorway.
“Not here, either,” I said as I scanned the room, pushing onto my toes to see over all the heads.
Serena stepped up to a short, skinny guy with a shaved head standing in front of the refrigerator. Scott. One of Michael’s frat brothers. “Where’s Michael?”
“Last I saw he was in the backyard,” Scott said, motioning toward the back door with his chin. He brought his beer to his lips and took a swig as he watched Serena.
“We’ll be back,” Serena said, running her fingers through her bangs. She grasped my hand and started to lead us through the kitchen and toward the back door.
“Hey, Serena,” Scott called, his hands cupping his mouth. “Heads up, Michael is a gray barrette.”
Michael is a gray barrette?
The backyard was far more crowded than the house, probably because it was fifty-five degrees out in March, which only encouraged people to hang out in the backyard like it was summer.
The backyard was small, surrounded on three sides by an old wooden fence teetering on dilapidated. Luckily for the neighbors on either side, who’d installed their own fences years ago, there was no chance of this backyard spilling into theirs.
“What did he say?” I asked Serena as we stepped outside.
“I have no idea. All I heard was heads up.” She scanned the backyard. “There,” she said, pointing toward a group of people standing around a set of feet in the air, cheering.
I pushed onto my toes again to see over the heads that separated us and whoever was doing a keg stand.
“Oh, shit,” Serena said, sidestepping the guys standing in front of us.
The pair of feet in the air belonged to Michael. It was barely nine and he was already doing a keg stand.
“Gray barrette,” I whispered to myself as I rolled my eyes.
“What?” She turned to me with an utterly confused look on her face.
“What I heard Scott say was heads up, Michael is a gray barrette; he was probably trying to tell you that Michael was doing something stupid in the backyard. People still do keg stands?”
“Gray barrette? That’s what you heard?” Serena scrunched her nose with a giggle.
I nodded.
“Well, that gray barrette is going to make himself sick tonight,” Serena said, shaking her head.
“Serena!” Michael shouted, his arms raised above his head, his hands in fists.
“Oh God,” we both breathed simultaneously.
“Hey,” Michael said once he’d jogged the few feet that separated us. “I’m glad you came.” He completely ignored me as he ran a hand through his reddish hair.
I cleared my throat.
“Edie, my friend,” Michael said, his attention finally turning to me. “You made it; so nice of you to grace us with your presence.” His grin as lopsided as his stance.
I narrowed my eyes at Serena.
“Why are you always so dressed up?” Michael asked, switching gears quickly as he eyed me. His comment elicited a slap to the arm from Serena.
“Excuse me for wanting to look nice.” I was way overdressed for this party, and I liked it that way. Skinny jeans, ivory camisole, navy blazer, brown riding boots. A plaid scarf in reds and blues to tie the whole outfit together.
I didn’t dress up for anyone else; I did it for myself. I did it because I liked how it felt to be put together. Unlike Michael in his too-tight T-shirt boasting the symbol of a sports apparel company. Nothing like paying a company to advertise for them.
“I need a beer, STAT.” I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it out of my face and tucking it behind my ear.
“Me too,” Serena said as she assessed her date.
“There’s something I have to do real quick. I’ll meet you inside,” Michael said, his arms outstretched, his fingers pointing in our direction as he walked backward toward the house.
“Shit,” Serena said through a grimace.
“Ten bucks says the thing he needs to do is throw up,” I said, my eyes wide. There was no way this would end well.
Michael’s back was to the door when we walked into the kitchen. The room had mostly cleared out, the arguing couple nowhere in sight, and the guys stacking beer cans in the sink had left, too. Serena stepped up beside Michael, resting her hand between his shoulder blades as I stood behind him, smoothing my navy jacket and sniffing my scarf for any hints of stale beer.
“Hey,” Michael said, wrapping an arm around Serena before turning to face me.
“Oh, look who it is,” Serena laughed as the person Michael was talking to came into view.
“Hudson?” I said.
“Hey,” Hudson said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked at me with that small smile that drove me wild. Not that he knew it drove me wild or anything, just that it literally put me back into the place where I either wanted to grab his face and kiss him or punch him in the gut, and right now I wasn’t sure how I felt.
“Nice to see you again. Where’s your hat?” Serena asked, pinching me in the tricep.
I could feel my face burst into flames. Kill me now. Someone. Anyone.
“Nice to see you again,” Hudson said. “I forgot it.” He looked at me. “The hat, that is.”
The grin on Serena’s face spread slowly as she looked between me and Hudson.
“Serena,” I said through gritted teeth, shying away from another pinch to the underarm.
“What is going on right now? I thought it would be cool to invite Huds since he’s such a fan of the team now. Right? Cool? Who cares if Hudson didn’t wear his hat? Why don’t either of you have a beer?” Michael asked, sincerely interested in the answer to every one of his questions.
“Huds?” Serena said, her eyebrow quirked.
“Beer pong?” I asked, changing the subject to something I knew would immediately distract Michael.
Michael reached into the refrigerator and grabbed four cans, handing them all to Hudson. “Beer pong,” he said, grabbing out four more cans and handing those off to Serena.
The beer pong table was set up in the basement, and even though the basement had surprisingly high ceilings, high enough that Michael could stand up without hitting his head, it wasn’t high enough for him to toss the pong ball the way he liked, which we knew. It gave us an advantage over them, though we were probably still going to lose miserably.
“Team names?” Michael suggested as he stacked his plastic cups in the traditional pyramid.
“Sure. Hudson, how about you think them up. I heard you’re good at nicknames,” Serena said, listing her head toward me.
I turned away from Hudson, shooting Serena the bug eyes.
“You heard about that?” he asked, pouring beer into each cup.
“I hear about everything,” Serena said.
I gasped, swatting her in the arm with the back of my hand.
“There’s an everything to hear about?” he asked.
“Oh, there’s an everything all right,” Michael said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “And with these two, nothing is a secret.”
A burst of air escaped me as I whipped around to face both boys.
“No, you didn’t.” Serena looked between Michael and Hudson.
Hudson blew out his cheeks, his face reddening by the second.
“What?” Michael asked. “You told me the other day in the campus center that Edie—”
“Oh my God, literally shut up right now.” I laughed as I pressed my hands to my cheeks.
Hudson ran a hand through his hair. “How about Us versus Them?” he offered.
We all laughed at the pathetic attempt to change the subject.
“No.” Serena shook her head as she smiled. “How about Ladies versus…” She held the word as she looked at me for help.
I stacked our cups. “Assholes?” I offered with a laugh, looking to Michael.
“Assholes works.” She nodded enthusiastically, hip checking me away from the table. She wanted first toss.
“Oh, you’re so funny, Edie. How could I have forgotten how funny you are?” Michael drawled. I playfully gave him the finger.
I watched Hudson as he continued to fill each cup with beer. He looked up at me when he finished, catching me watching him. “If it helps, I’m okay with whatever you’ve told Serena about me,” he whispered, getting the attention of Michael and Serena as well.
I shot a look to Michael.
He shrugged with a smirk.
I blinked at him, my tongue skimming my bottom lip as I tried to conjure a worthy comeback for both of them.
“Can we just—” Hudson interrupted, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Like, over there for a sec?”
He stepped back from the table, his eyes on me.
I took a step toward him as I shot a look to my smiling roommate.
“Really?” I asked the second we were out of earshot.
He fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt. “That guy has no chill.”
“I have no chill right now, thanks to you,” I said.
“Why, because you’re so happy I’m here?” he asked with a smile as he took a sip of the beer he’d been pouring.
I shook my head in response, putting my hands on my hips. He gave away his smile so easily.
“You’re really cute,” he said, reaching for my arm and pulling me into him. “Come here.” I was in his arms before I had a chance to protest.
“Impulse control issues much?” I laughed, my voice muffled by his shoulder, my hands still on my hips as he held me around the shoulders.
“Impulse control issues,” he repeated softly, pulling me closer.
Hudson was hugging me. He was hugging me in front of people. Actually, he was squeezing me … a little too tightly. I laughed and tried to wiggle out of his hold. God, he smelled good.
“What the hell,” Michael yelled from across the room. “Lady. Asshole. Can we play, please?”