“Brooke suggested PJs.” I toss the phone on the bed after hitting speakerphone and adjusting the volume.
“What are you guys gonna do? And moreover, if all these hot guys are going to be there why was I not invited?”
I groan. “Emily, focus. I have no idea what the agenda is, beyond the guitar playing. I’ve never been on a set with so many people in my age group. I’ve always been pointedly excluded from cast get-togethers, what with me being a decade or several younger than everyone else.” I stand in front of the mirror holding up a pink t-shirt and then a black tank top, back and forth. “Plus you know if you were here, I’d share.”
“Fine, you’re forgiven. Got capri pj pants?”
“Yeah.” I pull a pair out of a drawer and shake the creases out. “They’re pink with black polka dots. Too babyish?”
“No, perfect. Pink and black are so retro lingerie, very chic. Slap your black tank on and you’re ready to go.” I pull the pants on, tie the drawstring loosely, and then pull the black tank over my head. Mirror check. Cute.
“Emily, you’re a genius.”
“Yeah, yeah. Text me when you get back in your room, I want to know everything.”
“You are such a gossip whore, Emily.”
“Hey, just be glad I’m not asking you to set up a webcam… wait a minute, that’s an idea…”
“Bye, Emily!” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Text me, text me, text me.” Her disembodied voice comes from the bed. “Do not forget!”
“I won’t forget! You know I tell you everything. Miss you.”
“Miss you, too.”
As I pass Graham’s room, he exits with his guitar in one hand and a standard-sized bottle of tequila in the other, which reminds me that my hands are empty. “Oh, I forgot—” I say, turning back.
“Carry this.” He hands me the tequila. “Should be enough entry fee for both of us.” He’s wearing a different pair of drawstring pajama bottoms than the other night, paired with a heather gray t-shirt.
I’m about to go into a room full of people near my age, all wearing pajamas and drinking. Cue a hearty dose of panic. “What exactly are we doing?”
He shrugs. “I assume Tadd and I are going to provide some musical entertainment. And then, I don’t know. Sit around and talk, I guess.”
Talk. Right.
Thanks to Emily, I didn’t miss all of my high school experiences. I tagged along to enough parties with Em and her friends where there was a keg, or someone’s parents didn’t lock the liquor cabinet, or a fake ID was good enough to score a case of beer or a bottle of vodka. Talking isn’t what people end up doing when they’re young and plastered. But this is a small group, and we still have most of the film to shoot. Things can’t get too out of hand or it will be insanely awkward.
We stop at Brooke’s door and I take a deep breath. Graham touches my arm. “Hey, don’t stress. I’ll make sure you get to your room safe and sound. Well, safe and as sound as you can be if you have any of that.” He points to the bottle in my hand.
“All right.” I’m just hoping that me plus alcohol plus Reid Alexander in the same room won’t equal potential humiliating candor.
“Ready?” At my nod, Graham knocks, thunk-thunk, just as he did a few nights ago. Tadd opens the door, and Graham stands back, smiling down at me. “Ladies first.”
Chapter 12
REID
I got to Brooke’s room first. When she opened the door, it was déjà vu for about two seconds. And then not. Four years ago we would have been all over each other before I got five feet inside her room. Tonight, she just glared and backed up enough for me to enter. “Reid,” she said.
“Brooke.” I set several small bottles down on a table, keeping a couple and opening one, which I downed immediately. Tossing the bottle into her trash, I opened the second. “So how long has it been?” I said, knowing this was a reckless path to navigate.
Her jaw tightened and she plopped onto the loveseat, trying to look indifferent and fearless at the same time, raising her chin and looking me in the eye. “I have no idea.”
A knock sounded then and I turned, relieved, to admit MiShaun, Quinton and Jenna. A moment later, Tadd arrived.
Brooke holds court from the loveseat while MiShaun flips through the most recent Cosmo from the only chair. The rest of us lounge across the floor, chatting, while I wonder how disturbed I should be that Emma and Graham are the only two who haven’t shown yet. Five minutes pass before they show up, together.
“The prima donnas arrive,” MiShaun teases.
“Seriously, what took you guys so long?” Brooke’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of them.
Emma picks up on her territorial vibe and bristles visibly, her shoulders stiffening. “I had a phone call to make.” She holds out the bottle in her hand. “Um, where—?”
“Put it with the other stuff.” Brooke indicates a side table boasting a dozen miniature bottles. Emma hands the tequila to Quinton while Tadd lines up gift shop shot glasses with college emblems stamped on the sides. Smiling up at Graham, Brooke pats the cushion next to her, while Emma sits on the floor in the space between Jenna and me, exactly where I want her.
“What’s first, children?” Brooke asks.
Tadd stands, places one hand over his heart and enunciates as though delivering a line from Hamlet. “I require a dose of liquid courage for the challenge before me.”