Nineteen

Chapter Seventy-Two

I've come to know that a Saturday night in Miami is wild. Not like a North Carolina night, but a whole different world of fun.
I'm sitting in Collin's truck as he pulls onto a back road in the middle of a crowded street. He's done changed into a black t-shirt before we even left the parking lot. He tried to wear it for as long as he could, and I appreciate it, but the dress shirt wasn't made for him.
He pulls into a crowded parking lot and there are people everywhere.
"I didn't think I'd need a reservation," he says when he scans the area. I have a feeling he should have.
He slides his dress shirt on over his t-shirt and buttons it a few times before he steps out of the truck. He walks around the front and opens my door.
"Thank you," I say and he nods. "I hope we can get in."
His mood has shifted and he's back to himself before the extra effort. He's still committed to the night, but he's obviously upset that he didn't think of the most important detail of securing a reservation.
"Wait here," he says as he gestures to a bench outside. He walks in the door, making his way through crowds of people. I sit down and pull out my phone.
I'm scrolling through social media when I get a text from Clark.
"Should have came to the party, it's crazy tonight."
I lock my phone and put it away. I don't want to even think of another party for a while.
"There's no spots tonight," Collin says as he walks around the bench to be in front of me. My chest sinks in.
"It's okay, we can try again another night," I say as I stand and smooth out my dress.
He curses under his breath and begins to walk back to the truck. I follow behind like a lost puppy, listening to the clicks of my heels on the pavement.
I climb into my side of the truck and wait for him to speak. He doesn't.
The loud exhaust on the truck fills the truck with noise until we are back in the parking lot of the dorms.
I'm a bit disappointed in the night. It was promising, and here I am back at my dorm only an hour after I was picked up.
Right as he cuts the engine off, my phone rings. I grab it from the seat beside of me.
"Hello?"
"Em!" I jump back. It's so loud it actually hurt. I know Collin heard, because he's now staring at me.
"Clark?" I ask when I place the phone back to my ear.
"Stop by the house tonight!" I pull the phone away again. He's drunk and it's barely eight o'clock.
"That's okay, it sounds like you're having fun without me," I say.
"If you don't get your ass over here, I'll send Mac after you."
Im positive Collin can hear me when his head jerks to the side at the mention of someone coming to get me.
"No, that's fine, really. I'm okay with staying home tonight."
He replies by ending the call, I'm assuming by accident, but that's just what I'm going to say to made myself feel better.
"That asshole better not be coming to get you," he says when I place my home into my purse.
"I don't think he is," I say.
"I'll kick his ass," he replies. I wave my hand at him as a way to tell him to hush.
He never ceases to amaze me with how he has no problem speaking the way that he does. We're complete opposite to one another.
I roll my eyes and step out of the truck. I pull my heels off and decide to carry them instead. My feet are killing me.
I hear his door shut, as well. When he comes to the front of the truck he's taken off his dress shirt and run his hand through his hair, messing it up already, before putting a hat on his head.
"I figured I'd hangout for a little bit, considering our night went to shit," he says.