me an are-you-really-going-like-that look, but I waved it away. I wouldn’t change to please her, or anyone for that matter.
Molly and I walked to The Bat house together. Outside, it didn’t look like much was happening, but once inside—in the big brown foyer and beside the L-staircase—I noticed the loud music vibrated through the walls, and the people milling about, some already falling or swaying with the quantity of alcohol in their veins. Credo , the party had barely started.
We found Audrey and Sarah in the living room. They were seated on an ottoman in the center, and other girls—all from their sorority—were around them.
“Hi, girls,” Audrey said, sporting a flashy smile. “Molly, why don’t you join us for a moment?”
Molly looked at me. “Sorry. Sorority stuff. Probably won’t take long.”
“No worries.”
She stepped into the living room, and I turned to the other side. Curious, I walked around the house’s first floor, admiring the beautiful architecture of the place. Besides all the Greek stuff—symbols and Greek letters everywhere, T-shirts, jerseys, paddles, trophies, and such—the house held its charm. The walls in each room had different colors, all warm and inviting. I stopped by the dining room, where a huge table for twelve took over the center of the room. However, what really caught my attention was the professional bar against an entire wall. Long counter, barstools, and lots of options. And a bartender wearing a white shirt and black vest.
I sat on the last free stool and was about to ask for a drink when Garrett halted by my side, holding two glasses. He handed me one. “I like your boots.”
Smiling, I took the glass from him. It was whiskey and Coke. “I still like yours too.” In fact, I liked everything he was wearing, from the faded jeans, to the black shirt, and the boots. Missed the hat, but I understood he wasn’t wearing it to a party.
“I think this is the third pair I’ve seen you wear in a little over a week. How many do you have?”
Wait? He was paying attention to my boots? Why? Oh crap, he wasn’t gay, was he? “You know those girls who are crazy about shoes and have like two hundred pairs of sandals, boots, pumps, flats, that they need a closet bigger than their bedrooms?”
He chuckled. “Not really, but I have an idea.”
“Well, I have almost that many, but 95 percent of those shoes are boots.”
“And you fit them all in your tiny closet in the dorms?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you lived in this house while you were in college.”
“I did, but that doesn’t mean I have never been to the dorms.”
I wondered how many girls he had gone to the dorms with during college. With his looks, too many. For some reason, that made me frustrated.
“I didn’t bring them all,” I said, my voice much lower than before.
“Hi, Brazilian girl,” Jonah said, coming into my view from beside Garrett. “I’m glad you made it to our party.”
“Hmm, yeah. Great party,” I said.
Jonah asked the bartender for a beer then turned his charming smile to me. “How are you liking it so far?”
“It?”
“College, campus, being around us?” He winked.
“It’s fine. Good.”
“Is it too different from Brazil?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I told them the same thing I had told Molly, then Audrey and Sarah. That Brazil didn’t have a Greek system, that there were no dorms on campuses, that there was no such thing as pre-vet, pre-med, or pre-law. Vet, med, and law schools were like any undergrad major, though lasted one or two years longer. I also told them about vestibular , a hard exam you had to take to be accepted into college. It wasn’t like the SATs. Each college had its own exam, so if a student applied to three colleges, he would have to take three different exams, and for some colleges, those tests were actually a series of tests that could last for days.
“Wow, that’s strict,” Jonah commented. “Very