"Vodka, always vodka." Mads lines up four shot glasses and spills the bottle into each one.
We each take a shot and the liquid burns down the back of my throat. My eyes begin watering when Mads pours more. "I'm gonna need something lighter after this," I cough out.
"I brought some more drinks. Take your pick," Emma points to the disarray of various alcohols on the kitchen bar.
"Thanks, Em," I take the second shot and squint shaking my head and stand up to grab a mango-flavored white claw.
"What time should we leave?" Nellie asks, taking a shot of vodka.
I think about how long it'll take to get there and open the can, "Like fifteen minutes before the party."
Nellie brings out the Uno cards and I don't know why but Nel has a natural talent for shuffling cards. In another life, she could totally be a blackjack dealer, "Ten each. Stacks, wild cards, and switches allowed."
She takes this game very seriously, we all do. Whoever wins decides the movie we watch next week which makes it a competition, and we're all really competitive.
"JJ Cunningham's gonna be at the party tonight," Emma says. JJ is one of the four-star players who lives at the house we're going to tonight.
Nellie looks confused, "The forward who transferred from Westin last year," I inform her.
It's his rookie year and no one knows how good he is. Transferring schools is one thing, changing teams is another, especially when UCC has one of the highest-ranked basketball teams in the country.
"That whole team is built like Greek gods," Mads says.
"Parker's is the shooting guard, right? He got 42 points on the average per game last season," I watched his stats last season, he's the tallest on the team and one of the best shooting guards we've had in a while.
Apart from Adrian turning the team around no doubt, lots of guys joined just for the basketball team and built up an even stronger selection for our school.
"They've built a pretty solid group up. Coach King's been riding their asses all year to prepare them I heard," Mads says.
Everyone's heard of The University of Central Chicago's infamous basketball coach, Wesley King. Late fifties, tough guy and runs a tight ship.
"Uno," Nellie sets down a color change card and switches it to blue and I call Uno my next turn.
"We should change after we finish this round," Em says, setting down a yellow. My turn is next and I set down my final card, a green with the same number.
"So which movie Gigi?" Mads looks at me hopefully knowing exactly which movie she wants.
"Clueless," I smile. Mads gets all excited because I know it's her favorite.
I grab my black lace top that Mads used to convince me to come to the party with black leather bell pants and black heels.
This isn't a regular party, more VIP, and of course, Mads scored us front-line tickets to the show. She has the most connections out of all of us.
"Basketball or football boys?"
"Basketball," we reply in unison. But Hockey makes a close cut.
"I don't think any of the star players are interested in sophomores," Nellie laughs, and she's right. None of them would bat an eye at us.
"How should I do my hair?" Nellie asks. She's the best at doing hair out of all of us, "I think I'll leave it down and do a middle part."
"You should curl it for your debate this week," Emma suggests. She has an event for a law class of hers and she's going against a classmate.
Em lays down on the couch and Mads overlapped on her looking at Em's phone. "I'm scrolling through Adrian's Instagrams and damn he's good-looking," Mads says. She gives me a look that I make out to be a 'you should totally screw him."
"What kind of pics?" I ask as she hands me her phone.
He has one point eight million followers and he only follows fifty-three people. Close circle guy and most of his pictures are of him. He doesn't show any family apart from his teammates.
He's a big deal and he's worked for that platform. We all hear stories around campus about the jocks and their life stories but you never know what's true, but he got a full ride to UCC and was ranked one of America's top 10 upcoming athletes placing as number 3.
He's incredibly mysterious to everyone who doesn't know him but it looks like his friends like him. And the rumor on campus is that all of them are good guys, which makes them much more likable than the football team which is, on the contrary, full of douches and failed, mediocre assholes.
"He posts a lot with his team," I notice.
"So do the rest of them," Emma says scrolling through all of the other team members' social media, "They look like they're really close."
"Get this, those assholes from Westin are coming tonight," Nellie says, complete dogs.
Westin, Northwestern, DePaul, and St. Xavier are all our schools' in-state rivals. Westin is full of dogs. Men preying on women and treating them like objects which we witnessed when we first met Nellie.
"We gotta get going, I'll order an Uber," Nellie announces bringing me out of my thoughts. I read the clock which says eleven forty-two o'clock p.m. I feel drained and the party hasn't even started.
- Adrian -
"Hey Castillo, when's practice tomorrow?" I hear JJ yell from the other room.
"6:00 am! Coach said he'll kick your ass if you bring that shitty dog again," I yell back. Last week JJ found a stray and brought it to practice. Coach was forced to watch him and acted angry the entire time but we all knew he secretly liked him. We took him to the animal center so he doesn't have anything to worry about.
I hear bags rustling in and see Luke and Devontae walk in. "Did you buy red solo cups in bulk?" I ask, seeing the giant package being brought in.
"How else am I supposed to play beer pong?" Luke retorts.
"The party's tonight?" He looks at me in utter disappointment.
Devontae walks back out to get more bags while Luke whines, "You'll be there right? You have to be there. You're my wingman."
"Yeah I'll be there but I might be late."
"Late with what?" Devontae asks, walking in with multiple bags.
"Project for my new communication theory class," I tell him.
"I'll scope out a pretty blonde with big tits for you," he promises.
"Nope, no girls this year. Just basketball." Can't afford the distractions, the game needs to be my first priority.
I'm so close to graduating and I've maintained perfects grades these past couple of years. I've always been pretty good at school anyway. I'm so close I can taste the finale. Just one more season until the championship in New York this year and it's all that counts. All that matters.
Then maybe I can be successful enough to end my mom's suffering.
"I'll see you, boys, at the party tonight."
I head out and grab my gym bag from the back seat taking last week's paycheck and keeping it in my glove compartment.
I'm three songs into my playlist when I meet a familiar face by the bench press, Andre Fields, a football player I went to school with except he goes to St. Xavier now.
"Hey man, how's the workout going?" He tries to make small talk.
"Good, I hear you're playing for St. Xavier now, how's the season?"
"It's been good, Westin's always a competitor but we've been making our way through. How about you, there's big talk about the basketball team from UCC. You guys ready for your season?"
"Always. We still got some time but it's been good. How's your family?" There isn't much I remember about him besides his single dad and mom who skipped out about two months after my dad.
"Good, Jake's still playing baseball, and the kid's good too. May even make it to pro. And your mom and siblings, how are they?"
"Doing well, pretty much the same." We leave it there, not to pry too much.
I finish up for the night and check the time which reads eleven o'clock p.m.
Since it requires having a cool head and control, anywhere but a punching bag was a bad place to release the harbored-up feelings I sustained from a shitty childhood. Especially on the court.
My mom works three jobs to keep the house from falling into foreclosure and to keep food on the table. Gianna Kendall DiCaprio neé Castillo. In the mornings she drops my little siblings off at school, works as a maid in the motel from 12 p.m. to 6 p.m. while the kids walk home from school, then she works as a waitress at the local dinner till 9 p.m. and after that, she's a grocery bagger till 10 p.m.
My mom cleans up people's messes at work and goes home to do the same.
Casey is thirteen years old and he knows too much about the hardships of being an adult than I wish he did. Liam's eleven and Reese is nine. Then there's Addison who's seven and Luna who's five. Too fucking young to know how shitty the world is.
Then there's my deadbeat, abusive, alcoholic, piece of shit sperm donor Joseph. He left us when I was sixteen, said he couldn't take domestic life.
The first nine years of my life were perfect. We would go camping and play ball at the rec. He would take me to his car shop and we would repair cars together and he'd take me out to the movies.
When the family grew so did his resentment. He used to call my mom a slut for getting pregnant and he blamed my siblings for making him poor.
The only thing my father ever gave me was an enormous amount of debt to pay and an example of the kind of father I'll never be.
At eighteen years old my senior year of high school came around. Little did I know my father's dirty laundry would come around and onto my front porch too. Three loan sharks beat the shit out of me to send a message to my dad. They had no idea he didn't care about me.
I was six foot by seventh grade and when puberty ended, the growth spurt made me a lot taller than him equally making me better at kicking his ass if he said something to her. It was like carrying around dead weight.
My class takes forever to finish while my brain is in a million different places except where it should be.
I get to unwind at the house and drink or fuck, the night away. Preferably both.
It's already midnight and the house is loud as fuck. I see red solo cups on the floor, people drinking, some dancing, and from the corner of my eye, I see a girl in the sexiest black lace top tempting me. I don't recognize her but her smile is pretty.
"I didn't think you'd made it man. Who are you looking at?" Luke traces my gaze to the mystery brunette.
"That's Genevieve Laurence, she's a sophomore. I think people call her Gigi though." She looks mature but still has that innocent gaze. Her softer features are perfectly matched to her wide smile which makes her look somewhat pure. I don't know her but she's hot.
"Let's drink bitches," I hear JJ scream on the pool table. He takes a jello shot off of Hannah Ryan and they make out like animals who've been starved. I shudder quietly and move along.
Vivian Nash comes up to me and I try to turn away but she locks eyes with me, "Hey Castillo, how about we take this party up to the bedroom?" She asks, tugging on my jacket.
"No."
She looks confused and annoying before she moves across the party looking for her next prey.
I see Devontae talking to a friend of that girl who I saw earlier. I move myself to a more secluded area of the house and pull out my phone. I feel like a girl, going into Instagram to look her up.
Genevieve Laurence.
Her Instagram bio reads, "My friends call me Gigi, but if you're new here, you can call me Genevieve."
So she's a fan of criminal minds. It reminds me of JJ speaking to that serial killer in season one.
There's also a link tree to a few donation websites for black lives matter and feeding America. She also has multiple world issues petitions added in.
Her pictures are mostly of her with friends, some with family, individual pictures too.
She has a total of six hundred and eighty-three followers even though she's public. She follows seven hundred and twenty-one people. Lot's of celebrities and I smile seeing the most basic artists like Harry Styles and Taylor Swift along with the Criminal Minds cast and Grey's Anatomy too.
I close out her account and walk over into the party to see Vivian pushing over one of Genevieve's friends. She catches herself before she falls but the next thing I know she tries to punch her.
Oh fuck.