Glass Jaw

Chapter 8

"Okay, take your pick," Jules gestured to the dresser next to her and almost knocked herself off balance. "I need pizza to soak up the alcohol," she added as she swayed.

I looked into the open drawer at rows of neatly folded pyjamas. It was so tidy that I didn't want to scrounge around too much, so I just picked the first two pieces of fabric my fingers touched.

"This will do," I said as I held up the shorts and teeshirt for inspection. Jules was a good four or five inches shorter than me but hopefully, these were a little big on her.

Jules grabbed a couple of things for herself and a towel from another drawer. "I can't relax until I at least rinse off. Will you be good downstairs alone or do you want to wait?" she asked as she headed to the door.

I smiled at her consideration for me but waved it away with the flap of my hand. "I'm good, I'll go find Jackson after I'm dressed."

Once I was alone, I slipped off my clothes and folded them haphazardly over the back of a chair. I was relieved that Jules' clothes did fit me decently when I twisted quickly in front of the mirror. When I caught sight of my backside though, I realized that they were actually anything but decent.

The loose cotton bottoms were several inches too short on my legs and rode up to the very tops of my thighs. One wrong move and I'd be flashing straight-up cheeks. Thankfully, the weathered maroon Mountainview U t-shirt was loose enough to hide it when I pulled the shorts as low as possible on my hips.

At this point in the night, my hair resembles a haystack with the wiry blonde waves kinking around each other. I pulled the scrunchy off my wrist and flipped my head upside down to capture all of my hair into a messy bun.

Emphasis on the messy.

When I flipped myself right side up, the room spun with renewed vigour and I almost toppled over like Humpty Dumpty off the wall. The bed, with its soft comforter and cushy pillows, beckoned to me. It made me want to bypass the late-night pizza and dive straight into sleep.

Who knew there were so many stages to one night out in college?

First, there was the pre-drinking here at Jules' house. Then the Summer Send Off party that was actually just the pre-party. Then the party-party at the Capras house. Now, there was a pizza party.

No one had actually called it a pizza party except me—and that was in my head only, of course.

But did they actually do this every weekend? Maybe it was a matter of building up stamina.

The little bit of makeup I'd put around my eyes was thoroughly smudged against my skin that had paled from exhaustion. I tried to wipe it off but my arms felt like jello and I gave up after only a few pathetic swipes.

Trudging down the stairs, I yawned and stretched my arms over my head just as I reached the bottom step. As I looked up, I caught sight of Jackson and Landon on the living room couch. Jackson had his body twisted toward me, smiling at me as I waved sleepily. Landon's sharp profile was all I could see as he stared away from me. His jaw was locked tight and I was surprised his hard eyes weren't burning a hole in the wall across from him.

As I walked to the living room I was hit with a cool breeze. I turned with a shiver to see that Tatum had propped open the front door. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a green glass vase in his hands. There were colourful mushrooms painted onto the glass as he flicked a lighter over a small bowl on the side and brought the stem to his mouth.

Oh... Not a vase.

Got it.

Tatum's lazy eyes met mine and they twinkled as he puffed his chest and blew thick smoke outside. The mirth behind his cool eyes was no doubt a result of my immature shock and slacked jaw. I snapped my mouth closed and tried to appear unaffected as I waltzed to the couch across from the boys and sat down.