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of them.

I recognized three from the parking lot, two were new, then there was Elijah. He rested against the large beach boulders with his arm around a girl. A smug smile tugged the corner of his mouth as rubbed the back of his head, pulling her closer. He wore a blue Trumbullen baseball shirt and grey drawstring shorts, the same thing he left the stadium in.

The girl whispered something in his ear, causing him to look at her. He grinned deviously.

"Since when did they come to these parties?" I asked Reva.

"They usually don't," she said. "Maybe they're making a grand appearance after their scrimmage. You know, paying their respects to the loyal fans." She motioned to the crowd of students surrounding them. They were most likely the hard party-goers trying to schmooze their way into a baseball party.

I snorted, taking an unopened beer from her hand.

"Here's your chance to attack, Lucy," I said, but Lucy was already off on the prowl. We spotted her on the other side of the fire pit, batting her eyelashes at a group of guys who gazed at her like she was a fallen angel. I didn't blame them. Lucy was stunning with her short black bob and lofty confidence. She was the wing woman every person needed.

If she wanted a guy wrapped around her finger, all she had to do was look in their direction.

We three took our place beside her, and she introduced us to her new friends.

The guys were cute, but nobody I'd drop to my knees and bow for. They were in a fraternity, which rarely piqued my interest. If they didn't have their greek logo plastered on their shorts, you could tell by the way they carried themselves—with raised chins and buff chests, ready to woo chicks left and right. I've had my fair share of them and didn't bother treading in their territory unless I wanted a quick one-night stand or attention.

"Do you think they have a sister my age? Or a female friend?" Reva whispered, causing me to almost choke on the foam of my beer.

"Are you not vibing with any of them?" I asked.

She shrugged. "None look my type. I'm going to find someone else to talk to," she said and disappeared with Iya.

I didn't blame Reva.

But if I had to choose any of them, only one caught my attention. His name was Dustin. He had shaggy blond hair, and his smile was rather welcoming. I'd never met or seen him around campus, and if I had to guess, he was probably a business major. So we wouldn't share classes.

Throughout our conversation, he kept glancing in my direction as Lucy spoke. When I would catch him staring, I averted my eyes like I didn't care or wasn't interested. Although, it made my stomach flutter; I didn't let my emotions show on my face.

I knew he would try to talk to me if I kept ignoring him because playing hard-to-get worked. So, I stayed silent, laughing at his comments periodically. He seemed pleased with himself each time.

Looks like it's an 'I need attention' type of night.

As predicted, he finally turned and spoke.

"You like the sand?" He pointed to my feet. I looked down at my bare toes, then back at him.

Refraining from making a face at his strange question, I simply furrowed my brows. "It's the beach. Do you not?"

"It's too messy. It gets everywhere." I peered at his feet, which were stuffed in shoes.

I tipped my almost empty beer toward his tennies and said, "I'd be more stressed if I got sand inside of my shoes."

He clinked his heels together, making me snort.

"That's why I stay further down the beach where the sand is compact and wet," he said as a matter of fact and I formed my mouth into an 'O' shape. He stared in silence. The lapping sea sounds made me much more aware of my current mental state—tipsy. The alcohol settled into my bloodstream faster than I thought, but I kept myself composed.

I couldn't tell what he was getting at, or if he wanted me to speak. He scanned the beach while I rocked back and forth on my heels, finishing my drink.

"So, beach girl, are you from around here?"

"From Pennsylvania, actually," I corrected.

"Wow, I would've never guessed." He shows his pretty teeth, folding his arms. "What made you come to South Carolina?"

"The art program is amazing here, plus I wanted to go far."

"An art major, huh? So you heard about the baseball team's winning shot through the art building windows then?"

I snorted at the irony. "Yeah, real lucky hit," I said sarcastically, neglecting to mention my head almost had the same fate as the window. The memory of it caused me to look at Elijah. The girl he was with was practically on his lap, and he looked pleased with himself. My expression contorted into disgust.

I tossed my bottle into the trash, which was a couple of feet away from where I stood. It fell into the can with a clank, and Dustin gaped. "Oh shit, you've got a good throw. You have to be my beer-pong partner."

Nervous laughter poured out of me. "I don't—"

"She would be honored to." Lucy placed her hands on my shoulders, squeezing. "You can work your way into his pants this way," she whispered. "Here's more liquid courage." She placed a solo cup brimming with alcohol in my hand. I tried casting a deadpan look at her, but couldn't stop the smile from forming on my face. My wing woman.

Dustin held his hand out. A grin danced on his lips.

I looked at his palm, then gave in. He guided me toward the beer-pong table further down the beach where another sizable crowd stood. The warmth of his body brushing against mine felt nice compared to the cool beach breeze.

"We're totally going to win this," he said as we approached. "Let me see if we can play next round."

He left my side, walking up to someone in a bucket hat who I assumed was his friend. Dustin leaned in, whispering. I observed as the friend looked in my direction, then nodded. An awkward feeling bubbled inside of me like I was being approved of.

Dustin returned. "They're almost done with this round, we're up next."

I was subpar at pong. It wasn't like I had a table to practice on every weekend, like Dustin's house probably did—the beauty of a fraternity house. However, despite my sister and me lacking any athletic genes, I had good hand-eye coordination and could finesse my way through a game.

"We need a team name." He rested his arm around my shoulders. I fought the urge to laugh at his gesture as a mixture of sweat and cologne flooded my nose.

"Oh, do we now?"

"How about..." He thought, gazing down at me. "The beer slingers," he said, and brought his drink to his mouth. "Bottoms up, babe."

He dumped the entire drink into his mouth, wiped the rouge droplets off his stubbly chin, and tossed it into the can behind him. He looked at my overflowing cup. I got the hint and mimicked him by downing my beverage.

I knew I'd regret it soon.

"Fucking hell," Dustin suddenly swore. "We're up against that asshole."

Who? My eyes followed his gaze toward the opposite end of the table where the couple who lost walked away, replaced by Elijah and his lap girl. I blinked."You've got to be kidding me," I mumbled and prayed for a wave big enough to pull me out to sea.

Elijah didn't seem remotely interested in who he was up against.

Instead, he focused on filling, reorganizing the cups into their rightful order, and chatting with his friends. He moved with ease and looked calm and collected. Watching him socialize was like watching butter melting. Smooth. Despite his rather impassive demeanor, he could always command the attention of others. I hated the way it made my stomach quiver.

Why? Why must Elijah, out of all people, play against us? He was currently number one on my shit-list and someone I wouldn't mind pummeling in the face with my fists. I grimaced at my aggressive thoughts, which were from the alcohol and my broken painting.

Dustin still had his arm firmly around my shoulders with his head turned the other direction. He spoke with his fraternity brothers that hovered around us. From the fluctuation of his voice and curt replies, I could tell he was also annoyed by our pong opponents.

There was a strange rift between the baseball team and frat boys. It happened before I arrived at college and I never truly found out how it started. But now everyone reaped the consequences of their animosity. It was awkward and intense, and I was about to experience it firsthand.

Elijah's eyes flickered to me, then toward his cups, and then back at me like he saw a ghost.

His hands fell still, and he stared.

Shit, did he recognize me? Suddenly, his brown eyes—which looked black in this lighting—narrowed, and the faintest smile crept onto his face. Well, that answers my question.

I noticed the cup he was holding had something written on it. Confused, I picked up one of ours to see what they said. While some cups were blank, others read: take shirt off, kiss partner, body shot... My face faltered.

"Dustin, what the hell is this version of pong?" I asked, my voice lowering.

He read the cup in my hand. "Couples pong."

My eyes widened in horror. I agreed to beer pong, not sexual pong.

I was about to protest and say I didn't want to play anymore. But if I quit, Elijah would think I was running off. So I closed my eyes, pulled myself together with a long deep breath (slightly wobbling in the process), and readied to kick his ass.

We finished setting up our side when Elijah called Dustin's name and held up the ping pong ball. He wanted to do the shoot-off to see who's team would go first. Dustin didn't crack a smile or reply. He simply picked up his ball, looked Elijah in the eye, and threw. They both made it in, which caused a reshoot between me and Elijah's girlfriend, or whatever she was.

I won and cast an empathic smile.

A small, victorious sound came from Dustin's throat as his fingers brushed my lower back. My body tensed and it must've shown on my face because Elijah's chest bounced with terse laughter.

This was going to be interesting.

We played a couple of rounds, only removing two cups from each side. We were lucky with the dares we received. Nothing I couldn't handle.

Although Elijah's partner had to take off her shirt. Thankfully, she came prepared with a bathing suit underneath. But her breasts were out for all to see, and certainly a distraction. I didn't blame her though, even I was in awe of how perfectly they sat on her chest compared to my droopy boobs.

Dustin tossed the ball, and it landed perfectly. We cheered as Elijah read the dare. "Kiss your partner," he said monotone.

Nerves rippled through my belly like a wildfire.

I faced Dustin, who grinned from ear to ear. He whispered, "I was hoping we'd get that one soon." Then slid his hand through my tousled hair, cupping the back of my head. He pulled me firm against his body and pressed his mouth to mine with little hesitation. I could taste the residue of alcohol on his lips as he deepened our kiss.

I felt dizzy and my cheeks burned. Either from the alcohol or embarrassment, I wasn't too sure. Though I gripped Dustin's biceps to keep my body upright.

"They said kiss, not eat each other's face," one of his frat brothers shouted from beside us.

Dustin finally got the hint and pulled away, leaving my lips swollen. I discreetly brushed the back of my hand over my mouth to wipe away any remnants of him. From the way he kissed, I could tell he definitely was drunk.

Dustin was boasting with his friends, and I rolled my eyes. Men. No, scratch that. Frat boys.

I mustered some courage and looked up to find Elijah leering. Before I could decipher his expression, he averted his attention. What crawled up his ass? Needing moral support, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and texted our group—

I reread my message, which wasn't coherent, but it made enough sense to get replies from the girls.

I put my phone away, chuckling, and resumed the game. Elijah scored a body shot as my friends approached. Someone handed him a bottle of vodka, lime, and salt—which they must've stored in a cooler—and he hoisted his girl onto the middle of the pong table.

"I was wondering where you went. What in God's green earth are you playing?" Reva asked, hugging me from behind as we all watched Elijah lick the salt off of the blond girl's body. I swallowed as his tongue dragged up her navel. His fingers gripped her hips, and her sweet laughter roared into the beach. His friends cheered on the sidelines, but I didn't see a flicker of emotion cross his face.

"Sexual pong," I shrugged. "I thought it was regular."

"I can't believe you're playing against Elijah out of all people," Iya whispered.

"You and me both," I said stoically.

My surroundings blurred together as one, and shame bubbled up my throat. I felt better now that my friends joined me, but I didn't want to drink anymore or else I'd puke on the table and make a fool out of myself. I never listened to my body's limits and always felt humiliation at the height of my drunkenness. This was that moment.

"You can stop playing," Lucy said.

I shook my head, the stubborn side of me talking. "We're almost done, can't back out now."

"Well, if you need me to play the round for you, just say." Lucy rubbed my back. "Or I can drink for you."

"I may take you up on that offer."

My friends laughed.

"Your turn," Elijah's voice bellowed.

I'd never seen him so... annoyed.

Usually, he was quiet and indifferent. While every girl wanted him, he never fully played into the popular status he held. That came as a surprise since he was the captain of his team and a wonderful player.

Of course, he socialized at parties, like tonight. But most of the time he minded his own business around campus and only mingled with his teammates. He was one person I couldn't crack. It was like reading a book filled with blank pages.

However, every once in a while a flicker of sincere emotion would shine through his rough exterior, then disappear with a blink of an eye. What was with this kid? I wondered.

Dustin tossed and made it in.

"Switch partners," the shirtless girl read. "Awhhhh." She pouted, kissing Elijah on the cheek. I didn't realize what was happening until she joined Dustin and told me to take her spot beside Elijah.

My toes sank into the cool sand as I walked toward him. I was so drunk, I could barely walk in a straight line.

He didn't look at me as he said, "You're the art girl."

My skin prickled with awareness. I knew he had recognized me.

"Yep," was all I said.

He chuckled and dipped his ping pong ball into the remaining cups to wet it. I couldn't help but stare at his hands. They were big and calloused, and I could see all of his veins prodding from his skin. They trailed up his forearm, disappearing under his tee.

"You're mad," he stated.

"You're observant." My words slurred.

From across the table, Dustin's lips thinned as he watched Elijah and me interact. I couldn't care less about how Dustin felt. He wasn't my boyfriend and his anger stemmed from the gripe the two groups had with one another—not because Sadie Lane, a stranger, was speaking to a baseball player.

"Want to tell me your name, Van Gogh?"

A hearty laugh erupted from my body. "You did not just call me Van Gogh."

"I did because I don't know your name."

"Unfortunate, isn't it?"

I took the ball from his hand and tossed it across the table, but missed. My friends gave a promising thumbs up from where they stood in the crowd, despite my failure. The game was almost over.

"I know your name though, Elijah," I added, and internally scolded myself. My 'thinking before we speak' attribute was gone. Lost in one of the alcohol cups I chugged earlier.

"How does it feel having that much power?"

It took a moment for me to realize he was teasing. What new emotion was this?

"Like I could be the present of the United States."

"You mean president?" his brow lifted.

"I meant what I said." Stumbling, I grasped the side of the table to stabilize myself. However, Elijah's hands gripped my biceps at the same time. I looked up. I wasn't extremely short. I was of average height, but he still towered over me. His eyes searched mine, and I yanked myself out of his clutch before staring too long.

"I got it," I snapped. He let go.

"We have one more cup. If you can get it in, we win."

"I'm not even your teammate."

"You are now, Van Gogh," he said, and I swore I saw a smile on his face.

Ignoring the incredibly confusing man beside me, I centered myself at the table. This was it. The end of the game. I needed to make the winning shot, but my target was rocking like I was on a boat. Or was that me? It was me.

Realizing it wouldn't stop, I held my breath and tossed.

The ball rattled against the inside of the plastic cup. Instantly, I threw my hands up in triumph and cheered. Elijah shouted too and held his hand toward me. Before I realized it, our hands connected in a high-five. Then, his teammates rushed over to high-five me as well.

Glancing at the other end of the table, Dustin was already walking away with his frat boys. Elijah's girl from earlier was talking to a different baseball player. And my best friends were staring at me smugly.

Everything was spinning. I didn't know how I was still standing upright.

As the cheering died down and the new players took their place, Elijah said, "Now I owe you two favors."

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Thanks for reading guys! I'm going to try my best to make a backlog of chapters so you don't go too long without an update. Most likely once a week (I'll try and figure out a day soon & let you guys know). As always, I post updates on my socials if you want to follow.

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annasteffeyy

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