Page 96 of Broken Butterfly
“Alright, fair enough,” she answers and slides the stick between her fingers before hitting the white ball. “I like you too and I think we could become very good friends, so whenever you’re ready to let me know more, I’ll be there with open ears.”
“I appreciate that. I really do,” I tell her honestly.
“Appreciate what?” Meredith asks, rejoining us. Her hair is a mess, and her lips are swollen and red.
“Have a good time?” I ask her. “I hope you remembered to use protection.”
“We did.” Mer smiles broadly, a sparkle in her eyes. “Since Trevor won’t let me jump on his train anymore, I had to jump on the next caboose that arrived at the station. My girlie parts were dying for some attention.” Meredith and her bizarre references.
“TMI!” Sara wails at her.
“Oh, please. You’ve done much worse, roomie.”
That piques my curiosity. “Really?” Sara’s cheeks turn a nice shade of bright red.
“Thank God,” Sara says when they announce the trivia competition is about to begin.
The guy Meredith just hooked up with and a few of his friends approach us. “I didn’t get your name,” he says to Meredith.
“Meredith,” she tells him.
“Well, Meredith, I’m Nick. This is Sam, Wes, and Charlie. Do you and your friends want to be on our team?”
Meredith looks at me and Sara and we both shrug.
“That sounds like a plan as long as you’re buying. I like anything on tap.”
“Deal.”
Even though they just had a nameless quickie in the back restroom, Nick places his hand respectfully at Meredith’s back and escorts her over to a table where he pulls a chair out for her to sit. Sara and I sit next to Mer, and the other guys pile in around us while Nick goes to the bar to order drinks.
“You girls ever done this before?” Wes asks us.
“Nope,” Sara replies.
Nick comes back with drinks, a pad of paper, and some pencils. While drinks are being passed around the table, Wes explains the rules. I slide the beer I was just handed over to Meredith knowing she’ll drink it since I’m a teetotaler tonight.
Bryce gets up at the microphone and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Alright folks! Strap on your beer-soaked brains and let’s do this thing. Winning team gets a one-hundred-dollar gift card and drinks on the house for the rest of the night.” A cheer goes up from every table. “Question number one: Who was the very first NFL quarterback to reach forty-thousand yards passing?”
“Aww, come on!” Meredith shouts. “The very first question has to be about flippin’ football?”
We let the boys take this one. The next table over holds up their sheet of paper before anyone else. Bryce comes over and reads it. “Give this team a point. They correctly answered Johnny Unitas!” The guys at the winning table all stand up, clink their drinks together, chug them down, and shout, “Whoo-yah! Beta House!”
Bryce waits for the noise to settle down. “Next question. What does haphephobia mean?”
Meredith groans again and bangs her head on the table. “I’ve got this one,” I tell her. I’m the first to hold my paper up and Bryce comes over, reading it.
“Gorgeous and smart,” he says to me, which earns him a smack on his arm from Sara. “Point to this table, folks. She got the correct answer. Haphephobia is the fear of being touched.”
Sara snorts.
Charlie fist pumps and yells over at the Beta House table, “Take that, Beta bitches! Gamma house rules!”
“We’re not part of Gamma house,” Sara replies.
Charlie winks at her. “Honorary members, babe.”
Sara snorts for second time.
