“I think Conner’s vying for a spot on the welcoming committee.” Shaw nods his head toward the freshman. He’s walking around with a stack of cups, offering one to anyone without a drink in hand.
“I’m happy to pass the torch,” I say. Though, he’s doing it all wrong. There’s an art to approaching people and making them feel welcome and wanted in a party this size. I think about helping him for all of two seconds. He’ll figure it out.
I can’t be the sole member of the welcoming committee forever. This is my last year at Valley. It really hit me tonight as I was running out onto the court to a stadium packed with fans. Everything I do from here on out is the last time. Last exhibition game. Last party after the exhibition game.
College has been a blast and I’ve lived it – every second, enjoying and savoring it. Now everyone is making plans for the future and I’m coming to terms with the fact I have no idea what that looks like for me.
Another swig of beer followed by a pull of Jack. The latter jolts my system, pushes away the negative, and awakens a little of the fun guy everyone knows me to be. Liquor it is.
My gaze goes back to Conner in the entryway of the house. Two girls step through the front doors and he fumbles the cups, the entire stack clattering to the floor at their feet. The girls look like they’re two seconds from bolting back out the door.
“Would you look at that?” I motion toward the disaster. “He’s going to start scaring people away.”
“Unlikely.” Shaw shakes his head. “Look around. This place is as packed as usual.”
“It’s killing you. Admit it?” Sydney grins. Her brown eyes twinkle with humor at my expense.
“No. Whatever.” Pushing to my feet, I slide the bottle of Jack and my beers toward Shaw. “I’ll be back for those. I’m just going to see if Conner needs any help. Not because I can’t handle letting someone else be the host but because it’s his first time. Rookie needs guidance.”
“Whatever makes you feel better, dude,” Shaw calls after me.
I live for throwing parties at our place. Maybe it isn’t exactly a noble mission, but I always set out to make sure our guests have a good time.
More people have arrived and they’re picking their cups off the fucking floor like barbarians.
“Conner, my man.” I pat him on the back and smile at the girls helping him collect the fallen cups. “Why don’t you go grab another stack of cups from the pantry. We don’t want our guests using cups that have been on the floor, do we?”
He honest to God looks like he might say yes. I pat him a little harder to encourage him.
“Right. I’ll be back.”
Once Conner has gone, I turn my attention to the girls. One of them is still squatting down picking up cups and I crouch down to help. “Sorry about the mess. I got these. Conner will get you two clean cups. There’s a keg out back and some liquor and mixers in the kitchen. I think someone’s got a tray of shots somewhere too if that’s your thing, but word of warning—they taste delicious, but they are strooong. Don’t have more than two. Trust me on that.”
I finally get all the cups corralled and stand. The girl in front of me is wide-eyed, gaze flitting between me and her friend, who is still crouched down with a handful of cups. Neither has said a word. Conner must have really freaked them out. They’re probably freshmen.
Offering the redhead gawking at me a smile, I lean down to her friend. “Here, let me help you.”
I reach for the cups and when my fingers brush hers, she pulls back like I’ve slapped her. The cups fall to the floor for a second time. What in the hell did Conner say to her?
“I’m sorry,” she mutters quietly as she hurriedly grabs for the cups. Long, thick brown hair hides her downturned face.
“I got it. Really. No worries at all.”
I try again to take the cups from her. This time she lets me. Her face tilts up blessing me with a glimpse of her full mouth and green eyes that lock on mine. Dark lashes flutter around those stunning emerald eyes as heat from her fingertips seep into mine. I feel my throat work as I swallow a thousand different sentences. I’m entranced with a familiarity that I can’t place. She stands quickly, leaving me kneeling at her feet.
She’s dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt, but her feet are bejeweled with toe rings – one on each foot, and strappy, gold sandals that wrap around her ankles. They’re such a contradiction to the rest of her simple outfit that I find myself smiling at her feet.
I stand tall and look her over more closely. “Hey, don’t I know you?”
Conner reappears. “Here we go, ladies. Sorry about that. I’m a klutz everywhere but on the court.”
They take cups and murmur their thanks.
I’m still staring at the green-eyed girl and trying, and failing, to remember her name. It’s stored somewhere in my thick skull with a million more details that I desperately attempt to recover.
She doesn’t offer anything or respond at all. Okay, maybe I’ve never seen her before, and I just further creeped out some poor freshman who is definitely never coming back. I keep right on staring at her though, even as she clutches onto her friend’s arm and drags her away. She glances back just as they’re exiting toward the keg and I try like hell to read her face for any indication of who she is or how I might know her.
“Dude, this job is stressful,” Conner says. “You make it look easy. Any tips?”
“Yeah, don’t drop the cups.”
His shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. I get nervous around hot girls. I thought having an excuse to talk to them would make it easier.”
Shit. Now I feel like an ass. “It’s all right. They’re just cups.”
He tries to hand them over.
“Nah, man. You got this.” I give him a reassuring smile. “Only way to get better is to practice.”
I’ve passed the torch, I guess. Another last.
After tossing the dirty cups in the recycling and reclaiming my drinks, I head out back. The back yard of The White House is packed tonight. Our parties always draw a big crowd. We’re within walking distance of most campus housing, and unlike the other party houses, we have room for everyone, without cramming into a dingy basement or crowding around a yard half the size of ours.
We have a pool, too. Early October nights are still warm enough that people are stripping down to their suits and getting in the water. Scanning the crowd, a perk of being one of the tallest people here, I nod and smile as I weave through familiar faces.
Being the welcoming committee was something I did because I like people. Meeting new ones, talking to all different kinds—jocks, nerds, partiers, the shy, the reluctant, and the overeager. Growing up on a farm twenty miles outside of the city limits, my options for socializing were wrestling with my three brothers or hiding somewhere Dad wouldn’t find me to play video games. School and basketball were my outlets and I took full advantage.
I finally spot the girl from earlier and the friend she came with back near the house. She’s holding a drink and smiling at the circle of people around them. As I walk toward her, I catalog every feature. I’m not great with faces, but hers is a pretty spectacular one that I know I should remember. It’s right on the edge of my memory, but I can’t bring it to focus no matter how hard I try. When I’m within ten feet of her, she notices me approaching.