Chapter 5

LILY

I sit on a bench, watching as Mason paces back and forth. His phone is pressed to his ear, his free hand slicing through the air in frustration. I can’t hear the whole conversation, but I can tell that Tayla has stopped crying at least.

It’s obvious her mom has been up to something crazy. I’ve never met Mason’s mom, and right now, I’m glad I haven’t.

He hangs up and sits down beside me with a heavy sigh. He’s gripping his phone like he wants to destroy it.

“What happened?” I ask gently, threading my fingers through his. “Is everything okay?”

He shakes his head and sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s Mom. She’s up to her usual shit. Partying all night, not just drinking but like real parties. Inviting strangers over, playing music all night. The girls are barely getting any sleep. Gemma asked her to turn the music down last night, and she threw a can of beer at her.”

“What?” I exclaim, completely shocked.

“She said it was her stereo, and she could do whatever she wanted with it,” he explains.

“Your mom threw a beer can at her?” I backtrack. “Is she okay?” My mind instantly goes into overdrive with worry.

“Her aim sucks,” he replies, taking another deep breath.

“They’re both okay, for now,” he says. “Mom’s taken off, long weekend with some dude.”

He shakes his head and continues, “How messed up is it that my sisters are better when their mother is NOT there?”

“I know the feeling,” I say.

“Tay just needed to blow off some steam. God, I wish I could get them out of there!”

“You will,” I say, stroking his hair. “And they’re strong girls. They’ll survive. Like you did.”

He nods, wanting to believe me.

Mason looks at me. “Well, as my sister would say, ‘Let’s just forget about that god-awful woman and go enjoy ourselves.’”

***

As soon as we round the corner, I know which house on the block is hosting the party. I hear someone yelling from inside—loud and clearly drunk. Music is blasting.

The porch is full of people laughing and drinking. There are couches on the porch that look like they were recovered from a nuclear blast site.

Taking a deep breath, I smooth out non-existent wrinkles on my dress as butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach. ~I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve been to so many parties before. And I’m with the people I feel safest with~, I think as I wave to Britt and Liam, who are climbing the stairs just ahead of us.

“You all right, Princess?” Mason asks as he gently tugs my hand so we’re out of earshot of Britt and Liam.

“Just a bit nervous.” I give him a fake smile, hoping he won’t notice.

“Everything will be okay. I won’t leave your side,” he says slowly, lifting his hand to my cheek. His thumb strokes just under my eye.

“And if I have to pee?” I bat my eyelashes at him, knowing that he hates when Brittany and I go off to the bathroom together.

“Then I’ll go with you,” he replies without missing a beat.

I lean my cheek into his hand and genuinely smile.

We push through the crowd on the porch and walk into the giant house, which I assume is a frat house. I let out a gasp when I see the number of people crammed into the dimly lit living room. There are at least sixty people here!

“What the fuck?” I mutter, looking at the large men standing around drinking from red cups. “They’re huge!”

I mean, I knew football players were big, but I swear they didn’t look like this in high school, which really wasn’t that long ago.

One of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen walks straight up to us. Her brown hair is so long, straight, and looks so silky. Even in the dark, I can see her eyes are a sparkling green, and I’m instantly intimidated.

“Hi, I’m Maya. You must be Lily,” she says, showing off her perfectly straight and white teeth. “We were waiting for you and Brittany,” she says, her head nodding slightly to the side where Britt is standing.

Britt looks like a deer in headlights, a look I’ve never seen her have before. Even more surprising, she’s quiet. Britt is never quiet.

“The boys are over there,” Maya tells Mason, pointing toward another room.

When Mason doesn’t leave immediately, her perfect eyebrows raise before a smirk takes over her face.

“Us girls are going to my room. Don’t worry, I’ll look after her,” she says, patting Mason’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” I assure him, squeezing his hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you soon,” I add, rising onto my tippy toes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

He seems to ponder for a moment before nodding and quickly pecking my lips.

“This way,” Maya instructs, pivoting on her heel and heading toward the stairs.

“Come on,” Brittany urges, seizing my hand and pulling me along.

~Oh my god, are we going to get hazed?~

We trail after Maya up the stairs and into a bedroom that appears to belong to a couple. She shuts the door behind us, causing me to jump slightly. The room is dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of candles scattered across the dresser and windowsill.

The shadows flicker across the walls, sending chills down my spine.

~We’re definitely getting hazed.~

Brittany’s hand is clammy in mine. She’s as nervous as I am. Four girls sit in a row on a bed, their gazes fixed on us. Maya points at two chairs set up before the row of girls.

“Sit,” she commands.

Brittany and I exchange a glance, then quietly move to the two chairs. I can feel the weight of the girls’ eyes on us and strive to keep my expression neutral.

Maya regards us with a sly smile. “There’s a little ritual we like to do for the new girlfriends,” she reveals. “It’s tradition. A blood oath.”

~A blood oath. What the fuck?~

Maya retrieves a massive knife from behind a pillow, brandishing it with both hands.

“Nope!” Brittany exclaims, already rising from her chair.

We back away toward the door, our eyes locked on the knife. Suddenly, the overhead light clicks on, and the room erupts with laughter.

“Welcome to the crew,” Maya cackles, handing me the knife—it’s plastic.

I laugh, finding the prank amusing, then vow revenge and pretend to stab Maya with the fake knife. Brittany, however, does not take the prank so well. She crosses her arms and glares at the girls.

“You guys are freaking nuts! Who does that to people? I almost pissed myself!”

The girls dissolve into a fit of laughter.

Maya points at one of the girls. “You’d be in good company—Brooke DID piss herself last year.”

Brooke covers her face with a pillow, embarrassed, and shouts through it, “Just a tinkle!”

Even Brittany laughs at that.

We take a seat. I had assumed they’d all be typical jock girlfriends, but each girl looks so different. There’s a preppy-looking girl, a stoner, a goth, and a girl who looks like she’d rather be reading books than be here.

Maya introduces us. “This is Brittany. She’s Liam’s girlfriend. He’s the freshman running back. Lily belongs to Mason, the second-string quarterback.”

“This is Delaney, Brooke, Kayla, and Thea,” she continues, pointing to each girl. “Sophomore tight end, sophomore linebacker, senior wide receiver, and junior center,” she says, pointing at each girl again.

“Cheerleader, druggie, wannabe emo, and nerd,” Delaney adds, pointing at herself and then the others. When she points at Maya, she stops and purses her lips like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “Perfectionist, mother hen,” she says, making all the girls laugh.

“Ignore her. She likes to make people uncomfortable,” Brooke—the stoner—says, rolling her eyes.

“Also, not a druggie. I just like to smoke weed from time to time,” she adds, making Thea—the nerd—snort.

“Definition of druggie,” she laughs, prompting Brooke to throw a pillow at her.

“Actually, ignore them. They’re just trying to test you,” Maya says, shaking her head and perching at the end of the bed.

“Drink?” Kayla offers, nodding toward a cooler that is full of beer cans and three bottles of wine.

“We get the good stuff for us. They get the cheap crap,” Maya explains as she leans over, grabs a beer, and cracks it open.

“So, is that what you do at the football parties?” Brittany asks casually, grabbing two cans of beer and handing me one.

“When it’s just the team, we like to get drunk together before going down to listen to them,” Maya begins.

“Because all they talk about is football, and it’s the most boring thing in the world,” Thea continues.

“But when the football team throws a party for all of campus, we usually just stay with our man and stare down any girl that gets too close,” Maya adds, making Brooke and Delaney both grunt.

“It happens way too often. So, here’s to hoping your men are loyal or you are an epic bitch,” Kayla says, holding up her beer can.

“Cheers,” the girls all say, hitting their drinks against hers.

Brittany and I join in. “Cheers,” we say, clinking our cans with theirs.

“Where’s Leah?” I whisper to Brittany, noticing she isn’t here. Shouldn’t she be if she’s Oliver’s girlfriend? I’m actually surprised I haven’t seen her around campus. I thought I would’ve seen her at least once, but I’m not complaining. The less I see of my backstabbing former best friend, the better.

“Who cares?” she whispers back with a shrug.

Brittany and I spend the next hour or so drinking with the girls, who are actually all really cool. They’re all super inviting, kind, and hilarious. I can’t actually remember the last time I laughed that hard with a group of girls.

When Kayla suggests we play “Never Have I Ever,” I inwardly cringe. I thought in college we’d be done with these games.

“Never have I ever gone on a date for a free meal,” she starts before taking a large sip of her drink.

“Why am I not surprised?” Thea rolls her eyes.

“Never have I ever sucked on toes,” she says with a smirk as Kayla rolls her eyes and takes a drink.

“What?” Maya laughs while Brittany and I share a what-the-fuck look.

“It was middle school and truth or dare!” she defends herself, making us all burst into laughter.

Our laughter is interrupted by the door flying open and a very drunk man stumbling in. “Ladies.” He nods before falling face-first onto the foot of the bed.

“Party’s over,” Thea sighs as she leaves the room.

“Seriously, Jeff?” Maya says as the other girls all start getting up and grabbing their things.

“Guess that’s our cue too,” I say to Brittany, who is chugging back the last of her beer.

“Sorry. This happens from time to time,” Maya sighs as she starts pulling off Jeff’s shoes.

Brittany and I head out of the room, but at the top of the stairs, I say, “You go find the guys. I just need the bathroom real quick.”

“Want me to come with you?” Brittany asks.

“No, I’m good. Besides, the boys have been alone way too long. Go make sure they’re not being idiots.”

“I guarantee they are being idiots, but I’ll go find them anyway.”

She disappears down the stairs while I wander down a hall, searching for a door that might lead to a bathroom. This place is huge.

A door swings open, and out steps Cameron. Fuck.

“Hey, Lily,” he says, flashing a smirk. “Looking for something?”

“Just the bathroom,” I reply, trying to keep my voice polite but short.

“Well, you found it,” he says, but he doesn’t move out of the doorway. He’s blocking my way.

“So… can I use it?”

“You have to pay the toll and answer one question.”

I don’t say anything; I just raise my eyebrows, like—out with it.

“Why does a pretty girl like you keep pretending she’s off limits?”

I blink, caught off guard. “I’m not pretending anything. I’m with Mason.”

He grins. “No harm in a little flirting.”

“Yeah, there is,” I snap.

Cameron leans in slightly. “Shame your boyfriend doesn’t feel the same. He’s downstairs—flirting.”

I freeze for a second, caught off guard by his words. Then I shake it off, forcing myself to keep calm.

“That’s not true,” I say firmly, pushing past him.

“Comes with the territory when you date a QB,” he says with a shrug.

I shove past him and slam the bathroom door in his face. I relax as I hear his steps down the hall. I know Mason would never cheat on me, never even flirt. I know it.

So why do I feel a knot in my stomach?

I head downstairs and spot Mason near the kitchen. He and Liam are laughing at something Brittany just said. My eyes scan the room quickly, searching for any unfamiliar girls nearby. But it’s just the football players and the same group of girlfriends from upstairs.

Mason spots me, and his smile widens. “Princess!” he exclaims, happily holding his arms open wide.

“Mase!” I smile, throwing myself at him. I snuggle my face into his chest, taking in his scent.

“Are you smelling me?” He laughs, pulling back slightly.

“You smell so good.” I smile up at him. There’s no point in denying it.

“What were you looking for, Princess?”

I hesitate for a second, then shrug. “Someone said there was a girl down here flirting with you.”

His smile fades slightly, and he takes a step closer. “Seriously? Who said that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly as I snuggle in deeper.

He holds me by the shoulders so he can look at my face. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he says. “I’m yours only.”

I nod but can’t help but say, “I know, but you’re this big deal college QB now, and…”

“No,” he interrupts. “What I am or what I do won’t change how I treat you. Ever. Okay?”

I nod and smile. I believe it.

Then he kisses me, a kiss that confirms everything he just said.

***

Turns out the second week of college is when reality hits. The first week was so easy-breezy. I thought college would fly by, and all those people that stress out over assignments and exams were just crazy.

But they are now officially me. In the last four days, I have been given six assignments, all due within two weeks of each other.

I swear if I get one more, I may actually burst into tears.

“You okay, Lily?” Cameron asks me as he slips into the seat next to me, where Mason usually sits. He texted and said he had to meet with the football coach before class.

“Stressed,” I mumble, pinching my nose. I really wish I had some painkillers right now. My head is killing me.

My body feels like it’s starting to get cold sweats, and my hands are beginning to shake.

~Have I eaten today?~

Wait, yes, Liam, and I always have a sweet treat before class. Maybe I need more coffee.

“Hey, it’ll all be fine,” Cameron says in a strange voice that I think was meant to come off calming, but really it just pissed me off.

“Are you coming to the game on Saturday?” he asks when I don’t answer.

“Of course. My boyfriend is on the team, remember?” I reply.

“Lily,” he sighs before leaning closer to me, and I swear I see his eyes flick toward my boobs.

There’s something about him that’s giving me the creeps.

“You don’t need to pretend you have a boyfriend. We’re friends, remember?”

I lean back in my seat and sigh. I’m so tired of this “joke.” I open my mouth to tell him that he needs to cut it out, but I’m stopped by Professor Samuels walking in and dropping his briefcase as usual.

I really hope Mason gets here soon.

As if he knew I was thinking of him, Mason bursts through the door, clutching a cup of coffee. He looks around the room, and the second we make eye contact, his shoulders drop, and he smiles slightly before he makes his way over to me.

“Everything okay?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat as he slips into the seat next to Cameron.

“Busy,” he says, leaning over Cameron and handing me the coffee cup. “I thought you would need the pick-me-up,” he adds with a wink.

Even without me telling him, he knows exactly what I need when I need it.

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” I smile before taking a big gulp of the hot and delicious coffee.

“Not enough,” he says, smiling at me before tapping Cameron’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Swap seats?” he asks a frowning Cameron.

“Dude, she has a boyfriend,” Cameron says.

Mason laughs and shakes his head, and I roll my eyes so hard I actually think they might get stuck.

“I know,” Mason says with an amused smile.

“All right, everyone, shut up,” Professor Samuels says, silencing the whole class. “Today, you are getting your group assessments. They will be due at the end of the semester.”

He begins, “And no, you do not get to pick your own partners. I have already made the groups.”

I really, really hope I’m not in the same group as Oliver.

“I swear to God, if I’m with Kingsley, I will throw fists,” Mason whispers, leaning over Cameron to me.

“I will too,” I whisper back.

“Samuels has paired you in a very complex way,” he continues. “Alphabetic order,” he states, picking up a piece of paper. “Mandy Allen, you’re with Mason Cooper. Cameron Armstrong, you’re with Lily Bennet, Ralph…”

I don’t hear the rest of the names because I’m so upset about being paired with Cameron.

“Guess we don’t need to move seats.” Cameron winks.

Fuck. I really did not want to be with Cameron. Not only does he seem like an idiot, but he gives me the creeps.

We wait for Professor Samuels to finish reading off the groups before everyone starts moving around.

“There’s Mandy,” Mason says, pointing to a pretty blonde girl with glasses. “She’s in my math class.” He waves an arm in the air. “She hates Liam. And me. She might just come over and murder me,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“I’ll protect you,” I joke as Mandy approaches our small group.

“Thanks, Princess, always knew I could count on you.” Mason winks.

“Princess?” Cameron questions, scrunching his face.

“Well, yeah. What else would I call her?” Mason asks, frowning.

“I don’t know, maybe her name?” Cameron retorts as Mandy slowly takes a seat.

“Hi, I’m Lily.” I greet her with a wide smile and extend my hand. Her big, beautiful, blue eyes flick from my hand to my face and back to my hand.

“Mandy.” She nods, not taking my hand.

Once Samuels dismisses us, Mason immediately links our hands together and tugs me to the back of the leaving crowd.

“Want to know why I was late?” he asks, looking down at me with a cheeky smile.

“I thought you were late because you were getting me coffee?” I ask, holding up my empty cup.

“That was just a bonus,” he says, taking my cup out of my hand and tossing it into the trashcan as we walk past.

“I also got you something else.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls something out, and slips it into my hand. I frown as I feel hard plastic.

As I look down, I start laughing.

He brought me a fake ID.

“Rose Clampitt?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at the name, making his cheeks start to turn red.

“I picked Rose because your real name is Lily, and I couldn’t think of a last name,” he explains.

“And what’s your name?” I ask.

“Flynn Rider,” he mumbles, his cheeks getting redder, making me burst out laughing.

“As in Rapunzel’s boyfriend?” I ask through my laughter.

“Shut up,” he mutters gently, bumping my shoulder with his.

He really is a cheeseball, terrible at picking out fake names. I guess Rose Clampitt is better than McLovin’.

“Come on.” Mason grins broadly, leading me toward his usual parking spot.

“Where are we going?” I ask, laughing at his evident excitement.

“We’re going to use our new IDs,” he replies, his tone suggesting that it should have been obvious.

We drive a way off campus to a sketchy neighborhood to find a place where the clerk won’t ask too many questions.

A couple of cars idle near the curb, music thumping, weed smoke drifting out. The liquor store looks run-down. There are bars on the windows and a buzzing neon sign that reads “OPEN.”

As Mason turns off the car, I’m instantly flooded with anxiety.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I confess, shaking my head.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, wagging his finger at me playfully. “No backing out, Princess.” He unbuckles his seat belt and turns to face me.

“You go do it,” I suggest. “I don’t want to get arrested!”

“Nope. You’re coming too,” he insists as he unfastens my seat belt. “It’s on the list. Unless you’re too chicken.”

I snap my head toward his smirking face and narrow my eyes. “I’m not chicken,” I declare before leaping out of the car and heading straight for the store.

The store smells like cleaning products. The walls are lined with dusty shelves, and the lights are buzzing overhead.

I stick close to Mason, trying not to look as nervous as I feel. The man behind the counter—mid-fifties, heavyset, with a porn-y mustache—eyes us closely.

“Pick something,” Mason suggests, nodding toward a wall full of alcohol.

“What do you feel like?” I ask, scanning the shelves.

“Anything,” he replies.

My eyes widen at the price of spirits. How did I not know how expensive booze is?

“This one,” I say, grabbing the cheapest thing I can find—a bottle of vodka.

“You ready for this?” Mason whispers, taking the bottle from my hand as we walk toward the register.

He places the bottle on the counter. The cashier looks us up and down with raised eyebrows.

“IDs?” he asks, holding his hand out lazily.

My stomach flips; he knows we’re not twenty-one.

We both hand over the IDs. Mason seems so relaxed, like he isn’t worried at all about being caught.

As the cashier looks at mine, he snorts and mutters, “Clampitt.”

I give Mason a pointed look, but he just winks.

The cashier says, “Hold on a minute,” and wanders into the back with our IDs.

My heart starts pounding in my chest. I grab onto Mason’s arm, my fingers digging into his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t flinch, just leans in and whispers, “Relax, Princess. We’ll be fine.” He gently pries my hand from his arm and threads our fingers together, giving me a quick squeeze.

I try to take a deep breath, but my chest still feels tight.

I whisper to Mason, “What’s he doing? Is he going to call the cops?”

“I hope not,” Mason says.

I wanted something more reassuring than ~I hope not!~