I flip another page of the book I'm reading on my phone. I love the story, and yet now it struggles to keep my attention. Layla is 20 minutes late already, and it is driving me nuts. I bite my bottom lip, trying hard to concentrate. I freaking adore Penelope Douglas and their books, why the hell can't I read it now? I sigh and bang the back of my head against the tree. I hate waiting. I'm impatient, and it's not a great character trait to have, but I can't do anything about it. Even Dad couldn't handle me and taught me patience. I'm a tornado, that's what my father calls me.

"Hey love." I look up, meeting my best friend's gaze. Her chocolate brown eyes are on me, and she grins. I don't return the smile, and she kicks my leg, making me scowl. "Don't sulk."

"Easy for you to say." I stand up, intending to hide my phone into my purse, when Layla snatches it from me.

"Birthday Girl?" She cocks an eyebrow at me. "How many times have you read this?"

"Not enough." I grab my phone back and push it into my purse.

"I thought your favorite was Punk 57." Layla teases again, and I crack a smile.

"It still is. A lot of things depend on my mood." I shrug my shoulders.

"My my. What's up with your mood if you decided to read a story about a girl hooking up with her ex-boyfriend's dad?" Her eyes zero on me, and I can't stop my mind from drifting to the night before. Clay jerking himself off, naked Jordan, and the asshole. "What happened when you walked in your room?"

"I spoiled their fun, according to the three of them." I huff, my nostrils flaring. "Let's go shopping? I sorta want to forget all that."

"Forget all that?" Layla clasps my hand in hers, dragging me away from the tree and the campus. "After you told me who was in your room? Hell nah!"

"Who are they?" I plead, looking sideways at my best friend. Her long blond hair collected in two pigtails bounce as she steps. "Jordan said they are the most popular guys in college."

"They are." Layla contemplates, becoming thoughtful for a few seconds, and adds nothing else.

"Did you ever mention them when we were talking about your first year?" I dig. I want to know more, but her behavior gnaws at me.

"Yes, only briefly. I don't even think I ever called them by names." She shoots me a look, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm off limits for them, just like they are for me."

God no! Please, tell me what I'm thinking is wrong. "Are they from Drake's class?" Last hope.

"What?" Layla looks at me as if I'm crazy. "If they were his classmates, I wouldn't have cared. They are from the team."

Just my luck, I guess. "I kind of thought they were. They're built and so on..."

"How much did you see?" Layla quirks her eyebrow at me, and this time I burst out laughing. So curious! Did she already forget curiosity killed the cat? "It's not funny!"

"Do you like one of them?" I ask between my fits of laughter. She rolls her eyes, although I see a smile creeping on her lips. One of them, that's it. "Who?"

"Thompson." Layla murmurs, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Hello," I sing as if I'm Adele. "I have no idea who you are referring to. I know their names, remember?"

"Colton. Colton Thompson. He's a dreamboat."

"He's an asshole, and my hand stung pretty good after I slapped him across his stupid face." I'm so proud of myself, while my best friend halts in her tracks, looking at me with her eyes wide open.

"You slapped Colton? Like really really slapped him?" Her voice high-pitches, and I frown.

"Like really really really slapped him. He should have watched his mouth. Not my problem, he has no idea how to talk to a girl."

"Wow..." She exhales, her eyes sparkle. "Tell me more!"

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"

"Yes! I promise. No other questions."

"Fine." I mumble, taking a deep breath. She won't leave me alone even if she says she will. I know this bitch like the back of my hand.

I tell her everything on our way to the shopping mall. She gasps, laughs, and swears like a sailor. Not that it surprises me, but I don't remember her being so agitated. I wonder what sort of history she has with the asshole. It has to be something, I mean it's obvious. I don't ask. I keep my questions to myself. I prefer not to know anything more about the guy.

As we go from one shop to the other, I realize my mind isn't on shopping. I wrinkle my nose, pout my lips anytime Layla shows me clothes or shoes. She starts snapping at me, and I don't really blame her. I'm a mood killer.

"Ava, what's wrong with you today?" Layla asks, as she slumps down on a chair in a cafe we decided to take a break in. A cup of hot cocoa in front of her.

"Just thinking." I shrug, setting my cup of freshly brewed flat white on the table.

"About what?" She laughs, bobbing her head back.

"About things." I nibble on my bottom lip, pensive. "Should I be worried? I mean that asshole threatened me."

"Well, Colton has an awfully bad reputation. He has a contentious temperament, snaps easily and he's vindictive." Layla sips her cocoa, eyeing me under her long eyelashes.

"Okay." I look around. "I probably pissed off the wrong dude."

"You probably did somewhat." She lets out a giggle, reaching over the table and covering my palm with hers. "Drake won't let him do anything to you. As soon as he knows you're under Drake's protection, he will back off. He respects my big brother."

"I'm not a little girl in distress," I whine loudly, making my best friend laugh even more.

"You're a badass bitch, who can stand up for herself. That's true." She points her finger at me. "Well... how to put it better... to make Colton back off, you need something bigger than that."

"How can you like him?" I ask, narrowing my eyes on her.

"Have you seen the guy?" Layla leans her back on the chair, looking at me as if she doesn't recognize me.

"I did. He's kinda hot. I guess." Taking a sip of my coffee, I hold her gaze.

"Kinda? Girl, what happened to you while I was in college?"

"Nothing." I retort, hesitating a bit. Over time I have learned that some things are better kept to myself. She wouldn't be happy with me if she found out. She would probably be furious and wouldn't talk to me... for a day or two. Maybe a week. Or a month.

"Ava!" She smacks my palm, bringing me back to my senses. "I hate when you space out."

"Sorry." I mutter and then peer at her. "What are our plans for tonight?"

"Don't tell me you forgot." Layla groans, shaking her head in disbelief.

"About what?" I bite my inner cheek, racking my brain in the hopes I can remember, come up with a clue. Nothing comes to mind.

"About the party!" She exclaims, being irritated. "Why else would we need to go shopping?"

"Dunno. Maybe you wanted new stuff." I sulk, her words echo in my head. Indeed, she told me about this party a week ago. It's not that I don't like parties, but it slipped my mind for some reason. Well, maybe I DO need something new too.

"Let me guess..." Layla sighs. "We're going for round two?"

"Uh huh."

"I should have reminded you about the party from the beginning. It could have saved me a few more hours of shopping." My best friend roams her eyes over my face. "Ready to shake your ass?"

"Ready to drink and maybe hook up with someone," I state, seeing as she raises her eyebrows at me.

"Your first hook up in college. Hella proud of you, baby." My smile instantly fades away. I hate her. Literally. She's only one year older, and acts as if she's my mom!

"Slow your horses, lady. I'm not going to fuck the first guy I meet. I'm picky."

"There will be guys from the team at the party. Drake said we can hang out with them." We pay our bills, standing up from the table and sauntering out of the cafe. I glance at her quickly, scrutinizing her under my gaze. After yesterday, I'm not sure I want to spend time with her brother and his teammates. "Guys from the team are awesome. They are elite. So, if you are with them, it means you're cool. Your roomie will be happy to have you as a friend, as soon as she sees you at the party."

"I don't need friends like her." I snarl, baring my teeth. "She's... ew."

"What's her name again?"

"Jordan Patterson." I grit through my teeth.

"Well, Jordan Patterson made a lasting impression on you." Layla shakes with laughter, draping a hand over my shoulder. I try to push her away, and it's no use. I'm a bit thinner than her and shorter, even if I'm 5'6. She has no problem with holding me in her tight grip, laughing at my attempts to free myself. Gah! I hate her!

Suddenly, she pushes me away and I almost fall flat on my face. Dammit! "Layla!" I yelp, and she scoots away running into the first shop on her left. Ugh. I'm so not doing this with her. I trudge away, holding my head high and a few seconds later I hear her footsteps. She lines up with me, glancing at me over and over. "What?"

"You're in a strange mood, and I can't place my finger on it."

"I'm moody." I bite back, noticing a beautiful black dress on a hanger. If I put it on, it will look great with my flats. Though, isn't it too short? "Is there anything I should know about tonight? What do people wear to these parties? Are there any rules, like on Wednesday we wear pink... or some other shit like that?"

"God, who knew I missed you so much?" Layla snorts, making me scrunch my nose. "It's just a college party. Nothing fancy. You don't need to be prim and proper. You need to be wild, like you always are."

I skim my sight towards the shop and see the dress again. Maybe I should go try it on? If it doesn't fit, or I don't like how it looks on me, I won't buy it. It's that simple. Or not?

"Ava, babe, try it on." Layla begs, taking my hand in hers. "I still have an assignment I need to finish, and if you don't even want to try on something you like... I think we will be here forever."

"Fine." I make a beeline into the shop and straight to the dress. I touch the fabric and it's so soft, almost like a feather. Although, it's silk and I don't wear silk. I make a face, and suddenly feel sick to my stomach about my behavior. I've been in such a bad mood all day and Layla has work to do. I'm literally the worst friend ever.

I walk to another hanger and spot a skirt, it's a black washed-out denim. Not bad, and I think I'll be able to dance in it with ease. I take it in my hands, intending to go to the dressing room, and my eyes fall on a rack with crop tops. I edge closer, sift through the hangers, and snatch a white long sleeve cropped top. If anything, I'll look hot.

I go into the dressing room, and it fits. More so, this black and white outfit compliments each other, and I'm loving how it sticks to my body, showing off my taut belly and my full breasts. And God! The way it highlights my round hips is killer.

My phone buzzes, and I finally snap back to reality. I'm buying it, totally. I quickly dig into my purse, searching for my AirPods. Put one in, and answer, taking off the skirt.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey sweetie." Dad's voice is deep and a bit muffled. "How are you?"

"I'm fine... ugh... I'm fine." I struggle to take the top off, barely having time to catch my AirPod before it hits the ground.

"Ava?" My father calls out to me. "Is everything alright? What are you doing? Where are you?"

"I'm shopping with Layla."

"Already buying new clothes?" He chuckles, as I put on my jeans, hanging them low on my hips.

"More or less. There is an occasion." I pull on my t-shirt over my head. Thankfully, it's loose and I don't have much trouble.

"Which is?" Dad asks and I hear the sounds of a busy street. He probably went to run some errands before watching baseball, his favorite sport.

"My very first college party," I speak softly, ambling out of the dressing room and heading to the cashier.

"Do you remember what I told you about these parties?" I snicker, his voice suddenly so stern.

"How could I not?" I pay for my clothes and take a paper bag in my hand. A satisfied smile plays on my lips. I feel happy. "No means no. Don't take drinks from people I don't know..."

"Don't drink at all." Dad corrects, and I look up at the ceiling. He's perfectly aware I won't listen. I never do.

"Okay." I know my limits, and I don't get drunk. Ever.

"I'm serious." Dad barks, making me knit my brows together. I walk up to Layla, slapping her ass as she stands with her back turned to me. She twirls around, glaring, then instantly relaxes and shakes her head as soon as she sees it's me. "Promise me, Ava."

I don't like doing this, but it's my first party. I don't want to look like a loser. I cross my fingers. "I promise."

Dad breathes long and tired. "Did you just cross your fingers?"

"Yeah." I'm honest with him. Always. It often saves me from trouble with him because he hates liars.

"Promise me not to get into any shit, okay?"

"I promise." And this time, I don't cross my fingers and smile. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Ava," he muses, warming my heart with love. "Go! Call me later before you go to the party, okay?"

"Of course! Talk to you soon."

"Talk to you soon," he says back and hangs up.

"What did you buy?" Layla tries to peek into my bag, and I hide it from her. "Ava!"

"You'll see it tonight." I stick my tongue out at her. My piercing hits my teeth. "Um... when?"

"Come to my room at 8? We can get ready together." She winks. "I'll do your makeup. You can do my hair. How about it?"

"Only YOUR hair?" I ask innocently, perfectly aware that I'll need to help Grace, Layla's roommate, too.

"Grace is lovely." My best friend nudges me in my ribs with her elbow.

"I haven't said a bad word about her. I simply want to know what I'm signing up for."

"Grace, you and I will go to the party together. She sort of has the hots for Baker, so she's definitely joining us."

"Last time you said she had the hots for Drake." I am amused. I feel so slow all of sudden.

"She did." Layla sounds annoyed. "You know my brother... he's too fussy, and always chooses wrong when it comes to girls. The good ones who like him, he isn't interested in. Screwing bitch after bitch, in the hopes of finding love. I've told him a thousand times already. He looks in the wrong direction! Just... he doesn't really listen."

Bitches. She's freaking nice. "Maybe it's for the best? It could have been awkward if something happened between them, right? Like can you imagine stepping into your room and seeing your brother's ass or him going down on her?"

"I'm going to vomit. I'm going to... ew! Ew!" Layla drapes her hand over my neck, bending me down. "I want to scratch my eyes out, and nothing even happened in reality! Ava! You're stupid cow!"

"I love you too, bestie." I laugh hysterically. That's how we always were. Laughing, crying, talking, or sitting in silence. What is more important, we are never bored. Ever.

We talk more about the party and gossip about our hometown. I'm in particularly good spirits, and don't really want to leave Layla's side, but I have to. She has an assignment she really needs to finish before we go to the party. So, I suck it up and go back to my room.

Opening the door, I stroll inside, noticing Jordan on her bed. She stares at the ceiling, while I hear music playing. Someone is in a mood. I shake my head. I wanted to help her, and she brushed me off. Now? I have no desire to do anything for her.

I change my clothes, climb in bed with my phone and launch my book. I did my homework yesterday, so I have a few hours to kill by reading one of my favorite stories. At the same time... I'll be hot and bothered after reading about Pike and Jordan. Maybe it will be better to read something else to keep it safe? I don't really want to jump the bones of just any guy who is at the party. I'm choosy, and I don't like everyone. I'm like Drake, only the opposite. I like bad boys the most, despite the fact I always find myself with good ones. Experience is a bitch, and mine was too hard on me.

I stare at the ceiling for a few moments, chewing on my bottom lip. Jordan's music fills the room. It's Halsey, and I actually love her. Looks like this girl actually has something in common with me. I shake my head, dive down to the floor, and take my AirPods from my backpack. Instead of reading, I decide to watch "You". Penn Badgley is just too handsome for his own good, and his voice... God, his voice is something else. I have never heard anything sexier than him, maybe the asshole's voice sounds like his. I jolt on my bed, sitting up straight. This realization washes over me and I fall back laughing silently. His voice. I found it sexy... because he reminds me of one of my favorite actors. Phew! It's safe to say, Layla and I still have quite different tastes when it comes to men. I would have hated it if that changed.