The Sound of Us

Chapter Seven. “Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and Mnek

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and Mnek

Skye

Isla’s “something” was to drag me out of bed at 7:00 A.M. every morning for the next three days to “get on with my life.” I went to class, applied for jobs, filled in applications for the few scholarships still available, and met daily with a very sympathetic student financial advisor who was doing everything she could to help me stay in school. In my spare time, I worked extra shifts at Buttercup. Even though Dante had shown me that his reputation as a player was well-deserved, my heart skipped a beat every time I heard a deep voice, and a small part of me kept hoping he would stop by to say hello.

By Friday, I still hadn’t found a new source of funding. I told Isla that if I hadn’t figured anything about by the end of the following week, I’d have to return to Denver. Of course, she got in touch with Haley and the two of them decided to take me to a frat party to cheer me up. What better introduction, she said, to my new life of drinking, eating bad food, hooking up with strangers, and staying up late than a frat party where everything came free?

“Did you try the Purple Jesus?” Isla shouted over the music as we took a breather in the kitchen so I could help myself to another carb-and sugar-laden plate of potato chips and donuts. The DJ wasn’t too bad. His playlist had bounced from “Closer” to Justin Bieber’s “Sorry,” with plenty of upbeat tracks like “Hey Ya!” and “Hips Don’t Lie.”

“Where is it?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Why is it in the bathroom?”

“They made a bathtub full of it.” She held up a paper cup. “Most people are just sticking their heads in and drinking straight from the tub, but I was smart. I asked for a cup.”

Even after our pre-party tequila shot warm-up, I wasn’t drunk enough to even contemplate drinking from a frat house bathtub, especially since the house smelled of stale beer and the sweat of dozens of unwashed bodies. I gently pried the cup out of Isla’s hands and put it on the kitchen table, which held a buffet of potato chips, beef jerky, and something that looked like chicken fingers. “I think we should dance. They’ve found a DJ who can play some decent music.”

Haley joined us in the living room, where the music was blaring and the room was filled with jocks, ballers, sorority girls and frat boys, a few artsy types, and some awkward freshmen. Other than the small table where the DJ had set up his equipment, there was a conspicuous absence of furniture, but it just meant more room to dance.

“Rugby player heading your way at six o’clock,” Isla shouted in my ear as she thrashed her arms around to her own personal beat. “He’s kinda cute.”

The rugby player introduced himself as Aaron. His neck was so thick he could barely look over his shoulder. Someone had told him I was on the DII basketball team, and he wanted to talk athletics—best protein shake, earliest wake-up, number of times puking during a workout. He was a tight end who had won many trophies, and he was desperate for me to come to his room to see them. Aaron wasn’t a dancer, so he stood beside me, keeping away the roving hands of his frat brothers while sending his pledges to bring me fresh drinks.

“I need to get away from Aaron,” I said to Haley. “I’m not used to drinking and I’ve had so many shots, I almost forgot the moves to the Macarena. He keeps offering to take me upstairs and I’m worried I might say yes because I just want to rest my head. It wouldn’t be a good situation.”

“You don’t want to hook up with him?” Haley asked. “He’s a hottie.”

“He’s not really my type.” There was only one guy I wanted to sleep with, but I was sure he’d found someone else to warm his bed on a Friday night. And even if he hadn’t, I wasn’t interested in being another notch in his belt.

We grabbed Isla and headed outside to sit on the grass so I could clear my head. The air was crisp and cool and a welcome relief from the sticky heat inside.

“I was playing shot pong with a guy who looks like Tom Holland.” Isla took a sip from the bottle of vodka she’d taken from the makeshift bar. “If I’d kept winning, he would have gotten lucky tonight.”

I took the bottle and put it to my lips, grimacing at the bitter taste as the vodka slid down my throat. “I think he was making his own luck, babe.”

“Skye could have had the hottest rugby player on campus, but she’s still pining for Dante,” Haley blurted out.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t mentioned him at all this week.”

“You didn’t have to.” Haley grinned. “You’ve spent every shift at Buttercup staring out into the hallway with a dreamy expression on your face and jumping anytime you hear a deep voice.”

“She listens to his show at night.” Isla gave me a playful poke in the ribs. “Every morning she rants about the songs he played and didn’t play, and why would he play this song after that one, and what about the ten songs that were better for this theme…”

I folded my arms and huffed. “I thought you guys were my friends.”

“We are your friends,” Haley said. “That’s why I think we should make it happen. This might be your last chance…” She trailed off when Isla gave a warning shake of her head, but she was right. It was highly likely that by this time next week I would be back in Denver.

“Nothing is going to happen,” I said, taking another sip. “He never even came by the coffee shop to find out how the tryout went. He’s got women coming out his ears—usually two or three at once.”

Haley took the bottle and added a splash of vodka to her drink. “He is sooo hot. I’d bang him if I had the chance.”

“You can’t bang Dante.” Isla snorted a laugh. “Skye is going to bang him.”

“I’m not banging him. I’m moving back to Denver. No time to bang.”

We collapsed into a fit of giggles while Haley scrolled through her phone.

“His show is on right now.” Haley turned up her speaker and I leaned in to listen. ZZ Top’s rock classic “La Grange” had us immediately bouncing up and down.

“Let’s make a booty call for Skye,” Isla said, brightening.

“Don’t you dare.”

“He missed out big time with you.” Isla swayed to the side. “Big. Time.”

“Yeah, he did,” Haley agreed, nodding. “You would have banged the beast… I mean best.”

“She would have banged the beast best.” Isla fell back, laughing. “Oh God. My stomach hurts. Do it, Haley. Call him at the station. Tell him he made the wrong choice.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and then closed it again. It wasn’t fair that I’d met someone I could connect with and now I had to leave. It wasn’t fair that I’d been in a stupid accident that had ended my basketball career. It wasn’t fair that the medical bills had sucked up the last of our family savings. I’d lost everything. Why not talk to him one last time? Why not tell him what he’d missed? I had nothing left to lose.

“I’ll do it.” I pulled out my phone and called the station. Too late, I realized he might recognize the number from the time I’d texted to give him the word “fear.”

“WJPK. DJ Dante. Do you have a request?”

My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline rush cutting through the alcohol-induced haze that had made me think this was a good idea. “You missed out,” I said. “Big time.”

“Who is this?”

“You’ll never get a chance to connect with someone who really gets what you’re about.” I grinned at my girls, who were nodding encouragingly. “Enjoy your life of pre-show groupies and seducing women with lemon squares when you could have had something great.”

Before he could speak, I ended the call and dropped my phone on the grass. Bile rose in my throat and I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh, God. What did I just do? Why didn’t you stop me?”

“It was fun,” Isla said. “And now you’ve got him out of your system. Who should we drunk-dial next?”

Dante’s show was still playing over Haley’s tinny speaker. The last notes of “La Grange” transitioned into Pitbull’s “I Know You Want Me.”

“He knows it’s me,” I groaned. “I shouldn’t have mentioned the lemon squares.”

A few seconds later my phone vibrated in the grass. I stared at it in horror. I was such an idiot. Hand trembling, I pushed it toward Haley. “Take it. I shouldn’t be trusted with a weapon of that magnitude ever again.”

Haley lifted the phone to her ear. “What do you want me to say?”

“Don’t answer it!” I shrieked. “Just… text in a request. ‘Shame’ by Elle King.”

Haley lifted an eyebrow as she typed. “Is this you telling him you’re embarrassed by your drunk dial?”

“No.” My lips quivered with a smile. Excessive alcohol was making me brave. “It’s an invitation to come and party with the bad kids.”

Haley barked a laugh and sent the text. “Look at you embracing your wild side. I have to say I never imagined our straitlaced Skye getting totally shitfaced, drunk-dialing her crush, and inviting him to party with us tonight.”

“Who Are You” faded into “Shame.” My phone vibrated again.

“If he already knows it’s you,” Isla said, lying languid in the grass, “why don’t you just talk to him?”

“We are talking. This is our language. I could send him tracks all night.” I took another drink of vodka as I scrolled through my playlists looking for another song to request.

“You’re hiding.” Isla pushed to her elbows and took the bottle to finish it off.

“What am I going to say? He literally ran away from me at the athletic center to share the lemon squares I told him to buy with two other women. This kind of conversation is better.”

“I thought you were all about taking risks and embracing life tonight,” Haley pointed out. “If you do have to leave, this might be your last chance to talk to him in person.”

“A good friend would tell me not to drunk-dial him again.”

“I never said I was a good friend.” She snatched my phone and pressed the screen. “I’ll call him for you.”

“No…” I grabbed the phone, but not fast enough. Before I could end the call, Dante answered.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“I didn’t mean to call,” I stammered. “It was a mistake. I thought you were someone else.”

I shot a pleading look at Haley and Isla and mouthed “help,” but they were too busy laughing to intervene.

“Who did you think I was?” Dante asked.

“Why does it matter?”

“I need to know how much competition I’m facing for the lemon squares at the coffee shop. Do I need to show up first thing in the morning to make sure I get one? Are there dudes wandering around with boxes of lemon squares seducing all the single ladies on campus? These are important things to know.”

“Very funny. It was a mistake. Just pretend it never happened. Goodbye.”

“Skye. Wait.”

I heaved a sigh. “What do you want now?”

“Is this something you do all the time?” he asked, his voice amused. “Calling up dudes to let them know they missed out?”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up. “You’re the first. I’ve never been this drunk before. I’ve never been to a frat party. I’ve never eaten so many carbs and so much sugar at once.” I was leaving next week, so why not go out with a bang.

His tone changed from warm and teasing to something wary and sharp. “What frat party? Where are you?”

I told him the name and he sucked in a sharp breath. “They aren’t good guys, Skye. Don’t you know their reputation?”

“Haley was hot for a rugby player on the men’s team, so she forced us to come.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Haley called out. “I was hot for him but definitely not after he stuck his whole head in that bathtub of Purple Jesus.”

Dante groaned. “Tell me you didn’t drink from the bathtub.”

“I didn’t drink from the bathtub. I’d have to be unconscious to get over my disgust. We were drinking shots, but then Isla stole a bottle of vodka—”

“I didn’t steal it,” she mumbled. “It was just sitting there unattended.”

The deep bass of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” pounded through the speakers, making the entire house tremble. Until I’d mentioned it to Dante, I’d almost forgotten this might be my last night to party. “It’s dance time,” I told him. “I have to go.”

“Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” I said. “That’s why I’ve never had any fun.”