Palm South University: Season 2, Episode 4 (Palm South University #2)

by Kandi Steiner

  “He’s just protective over me,” I say with a shake of my head, turning and forcing Grayson’s gaze to me again. “We’re friends.”

  “That’s not what he thinks.”

  I scoff. “Trust me — Adam is well aware that we are friends.” He put the title there first, I want to say, but I don’t.

  “If you honestly think that, then your pretty green eyes are more closed than I thought.”

  My mouth snaps shut, my mind suddenly racing with what he sees that I don’t. The last thing I want is for Grayson to feel like he needs to compete with Adam. This semester was supposed to be about leaving all that drama in last semester — Adam, Clay, all of it.

  So, I’ll prove to him that I mean what I say.

  “Is he looking at us?”

  Grayson looks up and nods. “Of course he is.”

  Smiling, I slide my hands up into his hair and pull him down to me, pressing my lips to his, pushing my hips forward. He stiffens slightly, but when I moan softly and slide my tongue inside his mouth, he breathes a sigh of relief and tightens his grip on my waist.

  When I finally pull back, panting just slightly, I smile. “Good. Now he knows I’m yours.”

  Grayson grins, breathless, his forehead to mine just as Skyler calls out after me.

  “Come on, Little! Key West awaits!”

  Jess does some sort of banshee call and Erin, Ashlei, and Bo join in from where they’ve already piled into one of the huge buses the Omega Chis rented out. I giggle, kissing Grayson once more.

  “I think the time has come.”

  Grayson watches as Skyler slides behind the wheel of the Mustang and Jess finds her place in the passenger seat, leaving my only option right next to Adam in the small backseat.

  “Ugh, I hate this,” he breathes, his hands gripping at my shirt as he pulls me as close as he can. “But I trust you.”

  “It’s less than a week.”

  “Barely.”

  I smile, pulling him in for a long, heated kiss before finally backing away. Grayson holds my hand until it pops out of his grip and I turn, jogging toward the car and hopping into the backseat. When I’m settled next to Adam, I blow a kiss back to Grayson and he catches it, tucking that hand into his pocket and using his free hand to push his shades back down. I watch him, still mesmerized by the tattoos on his arms as they flex beneath the hot Florida sun.

  “I think you found a winner there, Little,” Skyler says, eying me in the rearview mirror.

  “Me too,” I agree, and I know it’s true. Grayson came when I least expected him, when I had sworn off boys completely, and every day with him since then has been amazing.

  As we pull out of the Kappa Kappa Beta driveway, a string of cars, vans, and buses, horns blaring, voices cheering, I keep my eyes fixed on Grayson until we turn the corner out of campus and he fades from view. Flipping back around in my seat with a sigh and a smile, I type out a text to him on my phone, telling him once more how much I’ll miss him.

  “It’s Spring Break, bitches!” Jess screams, blasting the music at the highest volume. Skyler lets her head fall back with a loud battle cry and Adam laughs, nudging me. When I don’t move, partly from the unwanted shock of his skin on mine, he grabs my wrist and throws my hand into the air, waving it around with his own. My eyes are still trained on him, his dark eyes hidden behind black Ray Bans, hair disheveled and blowing in the wind, white t-shirt hot against his blazing tan arms. He joins in with the screaming, moving my arm more frantically, and I can’t help it, I burst out laughing and thrust my other arm into the air with a yell, which makes all of them hoot louder.

  It’s Spring Break.

  It’s my first Spring Break.

  And something tells me the KKB girls are about to take me on the ride of my life.

  IT’S ONLY ABOUT A FIVE HOUR drive from Palm South University to Key West. The first little bit is highway, but then it turns into the two-lane US 1 that runs all the way down the Keys. Skyler and Jess traded spots with Adam and me in Key Largo and passed out soon after, the long night of packing finally getting the best of them. This was after copious amounts of Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, and Britney Spears, of course. Still, sleep caught up with them in the end.

  I, on the other hand, am wide awake — mesmerized by the bright blue and sea green water surrounding both sides of the highway as we drive. Adam is drumming his right thumb on the steering wheel while the left rests comfortably on the door, a wide grin on his face.

  I’ve been to the beach plenty of times since my move to Florida for school, but this is the first time I’ve seen water this clear — this beautiful. It never gets old. Every clearing of trees exposes a new patch of bright water that I can’t keep my eyes off or capture with my camera phone.

  “So, how awkward is this? Be honest.” Adam rolls the dial between his fingers until the music is only playing softly. I turn to the backseat, expecting it to be Skyler or Jess he’s speaking to, but they’re both passed out — Jess’s head on Skyler’s shoulder while Skyler leans hers back against the seat. Both of them have sunglasses on and headphones in, their music now louder than the tune coming from the Mustang speakers.

  Is he really asking me to rate the awkwardness of being in the same car with him after what happened at the Fratalina Wine Mixer?

  What’s the correct number for somewhere between conversation with old, distant relatives and waving back at someone who wasn’t really waving at you in the first place?

  “What do you mean?” I ask, facing Adam again.

  He shifts to hold the steering wheel with his left hand and drops the right to the console between us. “I don’t know. I mean, she begged me to still come — swore it wouldn’t be weird — and I guess I’m the only one making it that way. It’s just like the closer we get to Key West, the more I wish I would have fought her on it.”

  Blinking, I push my sunglasses up into my wind-blown hair. “What are you talking about?”

  “Me and Skyler?”

  “What about you and Skyler?”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  My frustration climbs and I huff. “Tell me what?!”

  Adam laughs a little, shaking his head. “Sorry, I just figured she would have by now.” His smile fades. “We broke up the other night.”

  I try not to let the words slam into me. I try to run from them, brace for them, take them as a small wave — but they crash into me all at once. “Oh.”

  He runs his right hand through his hair, his shaded eyes still on the road ahead. “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We both agreed it was best.”

  I don’t know why I have no idea what to say. There are millions of words out there, yet all I can do is face the windshield again and mutter the same one. “Oh.”

  Adam chews his cheek, silent for a moment. I almost reach for the radio dial when he speaks again. “Listen, I’m sorry about the party. I shouldn’t have tried to tell you what to do. I learned my lesson on that last semester at semi-formal,” he adds with a chuckle, and I blink at the thought of him warning me about Clay that night. I didn’t listen to him then, and he ended up being right. “I don’t know, I just saw how drunk you were and I’ve never seen you like that before. I was worried. And I know you’re with Grayson and he can take care of you. I was out of line.” He turns to me for just a moment and I scan his face, looking for a hint of jealousy, a molecule of dishonesty. I don’t find either. “I was. I admit it. And I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I breathe, just barely over the music. I watch as he finally takes a breath.

  “Can we just start over?”

  I laugh. “You’re so cliché.”

  “I’m serious.” His hand finds mine and he gives it a firm squeeze — a friendly squeeze — but for some reason my heart still stammers. “I really do care about you, Cassie. I just want to be there for you, however you need me to be. And I’m sorry I ever… I’m sorry I confuse you.” His tongue jets out to
wet his lips just as one of the Omega Chi vans speeds around us. I let my eyes follow it just so I have somewhere — anywhere — to look other than at Adam. I almost forgot I admitted to Adam that he confuses me. Stupid alcohol. “I never intended to. For what it’s worth.”

  “Gah,” Jess yelps as she wakes, startling us all. “I need to piss and then we need to crack some roadies.”

  “Oh my God, J-Love,” Skyler smacks her. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  Adam drops my hand and I pull it into my lap, the skin still hot from his.

  We pull into a gas station a few minutes later and as the girls climb out of the car and head inside, I stop Adam, holding him back.

  “I agree.”

  “You agree?”

  I nod, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing. “Let’s start over.”

  He smiles, one of those dazzling smiles that makes it hard to breathe. “I think it’s time for our first shot of Spring Break.” Jumping out, Adam pops open the trunk and digs around before retrieving a small bottle of Jack. “If I remember right, you like whiskey.” He winks and my cheeks heat, memories of the Fratalina Wine Mixer hitting me.

  Adam rips open one of the packs of red plastic cups and pours us each a shot.

  “What are we toasting to?”

  He fixes his gaze on the console between us, tasting the words he’s about to speak before lifting his eyes to mine. “To a second chance — for a boy who didn’t deserve the first one.” He offers a weak, half-smile. “And to the girl sweet enough to give it to him.”

  Our plastic cups click together as his eyes pin me, purpose in their gaze, and we lift the liquid to our lips. It burns on the way down, and I can’t help but think it isn’t the only thing.

  “We come bearing snacks!” Skyler yells as she and Jess fly through the small gas station’s doors, multiple white plastic bags swinging from their arms. We all pile back into the car as they pass around chips, candy, and drinks. Skyler and Jess both pop open Bud Lights but I pass, the whiskey is still settling in my stomach as Adam pulls back onto US 1.

  He called me sweet.

  But I think stupid might be the more accurate term.

  “OH FUCK YES, I SEE A POOL!” Jess yells as we all pile through the door of the suites we booked, bags over our shoulders and sweat already gathering on the backs of our necks. She scoots past me and jogs up the stairs to where the two bedrooms are, no doubt taking claim to whichever room has the largest bed. I just smile, dropping my bags to the floor and immediately hooking up my iPhone speaker. Turning on my Avicii radio station, I pump up the volume and finally take in the surroundings.

  Cassie and Adam are slowly making their way up the stairs where Jess is and I take the opportunity to check out the kitchen. It’s full service — dishes and cooking utensils stocked — with a bar area and a dining room table set. The living room connects and everything is decorated just like a Key West suite should be — bright coral couches, light aqua-blue rugs and accents, beachy paintings hung on the wall, bamboo and light wood finishes. There’s a sliding glass door that leads out to a back patio area, complete with a small hot tub that I’m sure will be occupied at the end of the night.

  Slinging my bags back over my shoulders, I make my way upstairs and toss them into the room where Jess has set up camp.

  “So, what’s the sitch?” I ask, wiping the sheen from my forehead. Jess is spread out on the king size, pillow-top bed with a huge grin on her face. The bedrooms seem to embody the same beachy-vibe from downstairs, paintings and all. There’s a huge mirror just above the master bedroom bed and I stare at my reflection. “Side note — I totally want to watch someone bang me in that mirror.”

  “Well, obviously you and I are in here. So I mean if you want to swing that way for a night, I’m totally down.” She smirks and I cross my arms, rolling my eyes. “It’s a king, so we can fit one more.”

  “Dibs!” Erin yells behind me and I jump. The Omega Chi bus must have arrived.

  I chuckle. “Okay, well that’s figured out.”

  “I’m calling the other room, then,” Cassie says, propping herself against the doorframe and thumbing over her shoulder. Everyone’s eyes fall to Adam standing behind her then.

  “Uh, I can sleep on the couch.” He rubs the back of his neck and offers a shy grin. I hate it, because I know he feels awkward, and as much as I swore it wouldn’t be — I think everyone feels like it’s a little weird that he’s here.

  “Actually, can we take the couch?” Ashlei asks, rounding the corner from the stairs, her wind-blown hair tossed into a messy bun. Bo is just behind her. “It folds out, so it would make sense that two people sleep there. And we don’t mind.”

  “There we go. All settled. Adam, you can just crash in the other room with my Little.” I smile, clapping my hands together as Adam and Cassie exchange glances. I know they go to breakfast sometimes and they seem to get along, so it shouldn’t be too strange for them to sleep together. Definitely better her than me. “And now — we drink!”

  Everyone cheers and we funnel down the stairs and into the kitchen, retrieving alcohol, cups, ice, and everything else we grabbed at the grocery store on our way to check in.

  “Wait! I made us something,” Erin says, heaving one of her bags onto the dining room table. It’s a glass top, and whatever is inside her bag settles with a clink. When she unzips it and pulls out the first Bubba Keg, bedazzled with jewels and her name, I can’t help but smile. My Big is one of the most thoughtful people I know, and any chance she has to make her sisters feel special, she takes.

  “These ought to keep our drinks cold on the beach,” she says, passing them around. Bubba Kegs are essentially giant mugs that keep cold beverages chilled and hot beverages warmed. For our purposes, they’ll play home to our mixed drinks under the Key West sun. Each one is decorated with personal flair, including poker chips and dollar signs for me and glittery curse words for Jess. They’re huge — holding about seventy-two ounces — and they’re thermos-style with a silver middle and different colored tops and bottoms. Perfect for beach day drinking.

  “Well shit, I made something, too. Hang on.” Jess runs up the stairs while the rest of us fill our cups with our liquor of choice. When she rounds the corner again, she starts hurling neon balls of cloth at our heads. Cassie tries but fails to snatch hers out of the air, so it wraps around her face and falls to the floor as we all laugh. “Suit up, bitches!”

  I catch the one she throws at me and unfold it, my eyes scanning the bold black letters on the neon yellow tank top.

  OUTRAGEOUS? ALWAYS. OUT RAGE US? NEVER.

  “Fucking right,” Ashlei says. “We’re wearing these tonight. All of us.”

  “Wait! Can’t forget these,” Bo adds, passing around the custom trucker-style snapbacks to match. They’re all black with bright neon letters that read KKB.

  “Hold on a second, did you two coordinate these?” I ask, adjusting the back of my hat and throwing it on backward.

  Bo nods, smiling at Jess. “It was a Big/Little bonding sesh.”

  “The idea was hers,” Jess adds, tossing her tank top over her shoulder. “Clearly. We all know I’m not that thoughtful.”

  Everyone laughs and once Jess and Bo finish filling up their cups, we cheers them together.

  “Time to fuck Key West up, ladies.” Jess turns to Adam. “And gentleman.”

  Chuckling, Adam shoves his free hand into his pocket and shakes his head. “I’m a little scared for my life.”

  “As you should be,” I add with a wink. “Let’s do this!” We clink our glasses together and throw back the first drink of Spring Break, dance music filling the room around us, our skin already sun kissed from the drive down.

  And then, it begins.

  I’VE NEVER BEEN TO KEY WEST before, but less than an hour on Duval Street and I already never want to leave. This place is alive. Every bar is packed, students from campuses all over the nation spilling out onto the streets, drinks in hand. Th
e music is loud, the personalities colorful, the feeling — wild. These are the future business men and women, parents, doctors, lawyers, dropouts, travelers, teachers — but tonight, we’re just young.

  We started our night at Fat Tuesday, filling our Bubba Kegs with frozen deliciousness and an extra shot to kick off the night right. We managed to run into Clinton and some of his brothers there and now we’re all cramming our way into the Coyote Ugly bar. Jess and Erin are hand in hand, arms swinging, voices carrying the tune of a popular country song as they head straight for the bathrooms. Breaking the seal, already.

  “We’re heading to Irish Kevin’s right after this,” Clinton says, pointing his finger in my face as he slides by. “Car bombs, baby!” We high-five as he continues down the bar with his brothers, nearly all of them dressed in the same white frat tank. Omega Chi Wasted is in bold letters like a dictionary entry, complete with the definition: intoxication level – attempted by many, reached only by the elite.

  “You know what I love about these hats?” my Little asks me as we slide up to the bar. “They hide the effects of drinking in Florida.” She lifts the snapback, revealing her crazy, slightly damp red hair underneath it. I laugh and tip mine up, showing the same hot mess beneath.

  “And they’re perfect for selfies,” I add, pulling my phone from my pocket. I slide the camera icon up and flip the lens, my cheek touching Cassie’s as I push the shutter button.

  “Love it!”

  “We need one with the whole group,” I say, looking around for someone I could flirt into taking the photo for us.

  “I can take that for you,” a southern voice twangs from behind me. When I turn, ready to hand my phone to a stranger, I stop mid-pass. Key West is crawling with attractive men right now, especially fraternity brothers, but this one just might take the cake. His dark blonde hair is hidden beneath an orange University of Tennessee hat, his teal-green eyes bright even in the dark bar. The first thing I notice is how his smile is almost too big for his face, but in the most charming way. His jaw is wide-set, his face clean-shaven, his body thin but toned. I don’t even care that he’s watching as my eyes scan him from head to toe and back up again.