Lacey loudly gasps.
“What’s up?” I ask her, taking a sip from my Solo cup. The beer is uber gross, but beggars can’t be choosers. I turn to see her pale face, horrified. “Hey, you okay? Are you going to be sick?”
“The guy that just walked in.” She points to the group of frat boys strolling into the party like they own the place. “The one with the red baseball cap?”
“Oh, you mean Brad?” I notice the campus quarterback in the middle of his pack, more somber than his buddies. “I’m surprised he came to the party. Apparently, the coach was on his ass about his grades. Needs to stop partying in order to keep playing or something like that.”
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