Big Shot | ✓

25 | confessions of a college drama queen

On the plane home from Boston, Reid sat next to me and held my hand during take off. When we went up to Pittsburgh the following weekend, he did it again, relinquishing his extra leg room so he could sit next to me and poke fun at me for staring out the window the entire time.

I never thought I'd be relieved to have such bad flying anxiety, but at least that meant I didn't have to look at him, and his fresh haircut and his pearly white, shit-eating grin.

Whatever happened between us in Boston changed everything, even though nothing actually happened. It was like we had arrived at this comfortable understanding of each other that perhaps we didn't have with other people, and suddenly overnight, he kind of became my best friend.

We texted every day, sometimes about absolutely nothing. We got dinner together when we knew we would be some of the last people to leave the football complex at night. We'd gaze at each other across the football field for perhaps longer than we should, knowing that we both agreed that what happened after Derek's party couldn't happen again, for several legitimately logical reasons.

I didn't know it was possible for someone to have such an effect on another person, but by the first week of October, I was starting to lose my mind. He would do nothing more than walk past me in practice, his body more enticing than any person's had a right to be, and I wanted to tackle him in the worst way.

Which was ultimately why when Mara invited me to a 2000s themed party at the boy's lacrosse house, I jumped at the opportunity to expel this from my system. Maybe I just needed to get laid.

"While I am adamantly against low-rise jeans, I wanna give like...Megan Fox in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen vibes," I told Mara as I sorted through a few cringy but on-brand early 2000s outfit options I'd brought to her apartment. Her roommate Casey was home for the weekend, but we'd just finished up a home game against Syracuse. Clemson was now 4-1, ranked nationally at #4, and with another win on the season, everyone wanted to party.

"Oh, then you need this." Mara strutted over to her closet and pulled a tiny orange t-shirt off of a hanger before tossing it to me. "It's not the same color as the one Megan wears in the movie, but it's the same shirt."

I held it out in front of me, where J'ADORE DIOR was printed across the chest, with rhinestones dotting the corners of every letter.

"No fucking way," I chuckled. "Where did you get this?"

"Estate sale in Charlotte last year," Mara casually shrugged, but her grin was almost menacing. "You'll find I'm secretly very thrifty."

I changed out of my leggings to put on an older pair of loose, bootcut jeans from Free People that could have passed the 2000s aesthetic and tugged on Mara's thrifty Dior tee, which was so tiny (as t-shirts were in the early 2000s) I could barely get down to my belly button. Even though it was October, it was still warm enough in South Carolina to get away with not wearing a jacket, even more so at a hot and sticky house party.

"Well now I really feel like Carla Santini, so thanks," I told her with a smile as I slipped on a pair of flip flops. "What are you wearing?"

Mara turned back into her closet and pulled a few things out of a cubed organizer on the floor. "If there is one thing that gives ultimate 2000s vibes, it's a Juicy tracksuit. I bought one at Nordstrom Rack a few years ago for a Halloween costume, and I never thought I'd actually need it again."

The peachy pink complimented Mara's deep copper skin, and she piled her braids into a high ponytail before slipping on a big pair of mirrored sunglasses onto her head.

"Cute." I grinned at her again.

"Anyway, are you gonna invite Reid and JJ?" She asked me, keeping her tone intentionally casual as she turned and sat on the floor in front of her mirror to apply her makeup, but I could read between the god damn lines.