Perrie Lancaster has zero plans after college. No dream job she's working toward, no one to impress, and no care for anything other than making her last two years of college one big party.
Levi Saints wants nothing more than to follow his dream of t...
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"I can't do this." Silence. "Ow Nova!" I whine, rubbing my arm where she just pinched me.
She picks up strands of hair and wraps it loosely around her curling iron. "You're doing it."
"Nova, this feels like a bad idea," I say, eyeing the curler from the corner of my eye.
She sighs, dropping my hair and placing the curling iron on her desk. She twists the desk chair around so I'm facing her as she bends down to eye level. "Three reasons." I raise my eyebrow. "Give me good three reasons why you shouldn't go tonight and I'll personally tell Levi you contracted a communal disease."
I pout. "You would do that for me?"
She looks at me as if I'm stupid. "If you give me three good reasons."
Perking up in my seat, and clearing my throat, I hold up one finger. "It's a party with athletes who, as we both know, I do not have a good track record with due to the events of senior year at Crawley High," I inform her.
Her lips purse for a second. "That's fair."
Grinning victoriously, I hold up another finger. "Second, you know they're going to have shitty alcohol options." I shift closer to her and whisper loudly, "They probably got a keg with warm, watered-down beer before they don't have connections."
She sits on her bed. "While that is probably true, we both know that that's not going to stop you because you don't drink beer." She says the last three words slowly and pointedly.
Crap.
My phone pings from behind me on the desk and two seconds later the doorbell rings downstairs. Twisting back to look in the mirror, I take in my half-done hair, and panic sets in immediately. "Fuck," I whisper in a panic. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Nova surges to her feet, picking up the curling iron and quickly getting through the rest of my hair. She reassures me that Hallie was already waiting downstairs to intercept anyone else from answering the door but that does little to calm my nerves. Who knows what she'll say to him?
Nova nearly burns me while I slip on my ankle boots that have a slight heel. Wobbling on unsteady legs, I snatch my small purse off the desk. Nova unplugs the curling iron and steps away, giving me space to stand in front of her floor-length mirror.
"Are you sure these pants are okay?" I ask self-consciously, eyeing how the fake leather pants plaster my thighs like a second skin.
Nova lifts her head from where she's digging through a storage box and appraises me for a moment. "Honey, I would fuck you."
I flutter my eyelashes. "You're the sweetest."
She rolls her eyes and hands me a bottle. A bottle of vodka to be precise. I blink up at her. She shrugs. "For the nerves."
