Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
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Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
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I end up staying for dinner with Justin, Brady and Ryder. Especially because Justin and Brady offer to share their Trader Joe's frozen pasta with us as a 'thank you' for joining in on the games tonight at the last minute. And after we all coach Justin with his speech, we get ready to go out. My only concern then had been that with the sun set, I'd be cold in just my shorts and top, but Ryder lends me one of his hoodies.
It's a light rose color, the soft material warm as it falls past the edge of my shorts, making it look like I forgot to wear pants. But I'm grateful for it when we play the first round of flip cup, which is set up at a station in the backyard of Brady's friend's house.
The friend's name is Zac, a sophomore who is tall and lanky with unruly sandy blonde hair. And unfortunately for me, between the second round of rage cage and waiting for the ice cube tray races to start, Zac corners me in the tiny kitchen of this house.
I end up standing against the tall table in the center of the kitchen, which operates as a kitchen island, empty beer cans and red solo cups scattered around. Sagging cabinets, which might have been white at one time, surround us on three sides, an oven and dishwasher in front of me and counter-space behind me next to the fridge.
Zac scoots closer and closer as he asks me what year I am and what I'm majoring in, Justin and Brady have wandered off in search of something to drink that isn't KeyStone Light and after this last game ended, Ryder was chatting to some girl in a pair of daisy dukes with a cropped flannel tied around her chest and a tacky belly button ring. He seemed interested enough, though I couldn't tell if he was just being polite, as she leaned against him and ran her hand up his chest. Like I was telling him, he gets more than enough female attention. He doesn't need any from me.
I'd been feeling like a third wheel until Zac invited me to come get a drink inside with him. Now we're here, no drink in sight as he'd clearly only used it as an excuse to get some alone time together.
"So, what's it like being a senior?" Zac asks lamely, edging even closer to me as I subtly take another step back, the soles of my Doc Martens sticking to the alcohol coated kitchen tiles beneath us.
"Exciting," I reply politely, choosing to give a standard, predictable answer. "But also weird, it feels like I'm still a freshman in a lot of ways actually."
"Freshmen are so lame," Zac laughs, though I can't tell if he's joking or serious. "I mean, I know I was a freshman, but now that I'm older I see how annoying freshmen are."
"Aren't you a sophomore?" I ask, unable to help the sarcasm in my tone.
"Well, yeah," he shrugs, snorting. "But still, I don't look like a sophomore, do I?"
"I think you do." I deadpan, not as entertained by him as he is by me. But he misunderstands me, laughing and snorting again as he shakes his head.
"If we're going off age," he continues, narrowing his dark brown eyes at me. "Then I guess I might consider you a cougar. Since you're older than me."
