He leans forward and grins. “Yeah, I’m not very good at it either.”
I chuckle and shake my head. That was flirting! I’m caught off guard. I’ve never seen this side of him, and it makes me wonder if he does the whole asshole thing just for show.
“So without the makeup excuse, are you gonna swim or what?” he asks, pushing off the wall and splaying out on his back.
I bite my lip in an effort to contain my smile and then glance up when I hear the gate open once again. Everyone I invited for the party has already arrived, unless maybe Preston invited some more of his friends.
My thought cuts off as soon as I see Beau. He’s home! He’s been gone all day—something I tried to ignore—but now he’s back and he’s not alone. He holds the gate open for a pretty brunette, and she thanks him with a flirtatious smile. I can’t hear their conversation as they curve around the side of the house and approach the pool, but I can tell she’s hanging on his every word.
“Damn, who’s that?” Preston asks, eyeing the brunette.
His reaction tells me all I need to know.
She’s hot—adult-woman hot. She has hips that sway and fully formed breasts.
As they walk by, my head slowly swivels atop my motionless body with the cold precision of a hunting owl. I’m fairly certain I don’t even blink. Beau’s dressed casual in jeans and a black t-shirt, and his friend is in a short sundress that splashes around her curves. He sees me staring and tips his head in greeting as they pass. I want him to stop and introduce me to his friend, but I don’t know why he would. They skirt politely around the party and head straight for his apartment, closing the door behind them once they’re tucked away inside. My fingers are gripping the side of the pool so tightly I’m about to break off a piece of concrete. I’m seething, angry for no good reason.
“Who are they, Lauren?” asks one of the girls nearby.
I shake my head, worried my voice will betray my true feelings about the situation. “He’s just a Tulane student renting the apartment from my parents.”
I suffer for the next 30 minutes as the girls gossip about Beau and the boys gossip about his female friend. The only solace I find is that both of them were wearing backpacks and carrying heavy books. I might be inexperienced, but I don’t think many hookups start with Philosophical Foundations of Legal Ethics.
I want to forget about the fact that he brought a girl home with him. He’s never done it before and it’s likely nothing more than a study date, but I can’t stop thinking about what they’re doing behind that closed door. Even after Preston convinces me to jump in the pool and swim, I still have one eye trained on Beau’s apartment, just in case something happens.
I play a round of chicken perched on top of Preston’s toned shoulders and it should be the highlight of my entire tiny life, but I’m only halfway focused, and Julie barely has to push before I’m knocked swiftly into the pool. I go under and accidentally inhale water up my nose. It burns and my eyes sting, and once I break the surface, I cough and gulp in air like I’m dying.
“Wow, Lauren!” Julie taunts. “Let’s hope you’re not as easy in the bedroom as you are in the pool!”
Everyone laughs, but Preston swims over to check if I’m okay.
“Water up the nose?”
“Just a little.” I’m pretty sure snot is running down my face, so I wipe it away as fast as I can and then apologize, “Sorry about that. Julie’s like the Incredible Hulk or something.”
He laughs, treading water beside me. “Yeah, you’re kind of the runt, huh?”
I should be mortified by his nickname, but he says it in a way that makes it sound endearing rather than embarrassing.
“Yo! Preston, you playing or what?!” Lincoln shouts from where they’re prepping for another round.
Preston glances back and shakes his head. “I can’t play without my teammate. Y’all go ahead.”
His sincerity snaps the divided portions of my attention back into unity.
Maybe this party won’t be a total disaster after all.
I’M SUPPOSED TO be elbow-deep in lecture notes. Midterms are next week so it’s officially crunch time, and my friend Brittany came back to the apartment with me so we could tackle some of the more confusing material together. Usually, her boyfriend Max is with us, but he’s busy writing a paper and won’t be able to head over until later. I don’t really mind. Max is usually the one in the study group who knows the least yet talks the most. I only bother with him because Brittany takes the most detailed notes I’ve ever seen, and Professor Bancroft pulls a lot of questions straight from lecture.
“Have you started to look over the last half of chapter 14?” Brittany asks, hurriedly flipping pages in her textbook on my coffee table.
“Uh, yeah.” I riffle through my notes, annoyed that they’ve somehow slipped out of order. “Hold on, I think they’re in my backpack.”
I push off the couch and head to where I stowed my stuff by my front door.
Another squeal from the pool carries into my apartment and I clench my jaw.
“Find them yet?” Brittany asks.
“I haven’t even started looking. Chill.”
She laughs. “Where’s your head today? You’re as bad as Max.”
We both know that’s not true.
I find the notes she’s asking for and straighten up.
Laughter and shouts grow louder outside, and I wonder if it would be rude to put on noise-canceling headphones, or better yet, go study somewhere else.
“Maybe this is a good thing,” she continues. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to overtake you in the class rank, and these tests just might do it.”
I laugh. That’s wishful thinking. I might be distracted today, but I’ve done nothing but eat, drink, and breathe law for the last three years. I’m ahead of the rest of my class by a mile.
“Here,” I say, passing her the notes.
She takes them and her eyes widen in wonder. “Are you shitting me? You have all this memorized? He didn’t even go over this in lecture yet.”
I shrug, trying not to gloat. “You know how Bancroft likes to throw things on tests that he wasn’t planning on covering for another week. What’s his saying? Always be prepared, and then prepare some more.”
She curses under her breath and starts reading, bringing her thumb up to her mouth so she can nervously chew on the nail. She does this every time we study for something. She’s just as prepared as me—we both know it—but it’s almost like she has to have a nervous breakdown before every test or she doesn’t feel like she’s studied hard enough. I want Max to get here more than ever.
“LAUREN!” a girl shouts outside. “You seriously suck at chicken!”
I growl.
Brittany’s head snaps up and she frowns. “What’s up? Are you stressed about the test?”
I point out the window. “No, I’m annoyed that we’re having to study in the middle of a high school pool party.”
She laughs and drops her notes, pushing herself up so she can come stand near me at the window. “Don’t be such a killjoy. It’s cute. Don’t you remember those carefree days?”
I don’t reply, and she leans forward and parts the blinds to see outside. “See?! How can you resist that?”
“What?”
“High school love.”
I go against my better judgment and turn to see what she’s pointing at. When I first arrived, Lauren was sitting on the edge of the pool, but now she’s treading water in the deep end with some blond kid, smiling.
“He’s totally into her.”
“How can you tell?”
“Easy: above all else, high schoolers are herd animals, but see how those two are off on the side doing their own thing? That’s a clear sign there’s something going on.”
“Okay, Stevie Irwin. I think you should stick to practicing law.”
“Ooh, and see how he keeps finding a reason to touch her? There is palpable liking going on.”
The guy swoops in and lifts Lauren in his arms, cradling her like he’s carrying his bride over the threshold. She holds her nose and every few seconds, he tips her back and dunks her head. I remember playing that game, but I don’t remember the objective. I’m still watching when he dunks her all the way back so she flips over and goes under for a few seconds. I push closer to the window just before she surfaces again, wiping hair out of her face and laughing. She looks happy.