Off the Record (Record #1)(44)
Author: K.A. Linde

Her phone buzzed in her purse and she perked up. Maybe that was him! Maybe he was going to apologize for acting like a jerk.

She pulled her phone out and shook her head when she saw it was Justin.

Here are the deets for the party tonight. See ya then.

The rest of the message listed the time, location, and party theme—one she would likely never follow. Who chose tacky Hawaiian as a party theme?

She finally put the car into drive and started to pull out of her spot, when she saw people exit the side of the Town Hall. Liz’s eyes narrowed when she spotted Heather walking purposefully out in front. Even from here, Liz could tell she was talking a million miles a minute. Next came the chubby ass**le and then a slew of other people that she didn’t recognize, who all piled into black vans.

Last was Brady with another girl she didn’t recognize, with superstraight dark brown hair to her shoulders. She was wearing a pink blouse tucked into a high-waisted black skirt with black pumps. She was thin too, and cute…really cute. Liz’s eyes narrowed as she and Brady talked to each other briefly. Then Brady leaned down and kissed the girl on the cheek.

Liz’s heart stopped. After all that stuff about her not seeing anyone else…that he wanted her all to himself. She knew they couldn’t be together in public, but that didn’t mean he could be with someone else in public!

She swallowed back the rising bile in her throat and tried to push back the hurt crushing her chest. She just wanted to be angry. Anger was easier to deal with than pain.

The girl hopped into the car before him and Brady followed, closing the door and zooming away. Liz watched the car leave, letting the anger fuel her rash decisions. She stared back down at her phone.

Actually, I think I will make it. See you tonight, Liz texted Justin before throwing her phone into the passenger seat and going home to see if she had anything that could possibly resemble a tacky Hawaiian outfit.

No.

That was her general consensus on whether or not she had anything remotely Hawaiian-looking. People were walking around in oversize Hawaiian button-downs, fake grass skirts, coconut bra tops, cut-off jean shorts, foam visors, bathing suits, and leis everywhere.

Liz didn’t own any jean shorts or even a jean skirt, which apparently would have been acceptable. She had opted for a white skirt, hot pink bikini top, and flip-flops. It wasn’t tacky, but at least it was themed. She had even taken the time to dry her hair, so that it had beachy waves to it. No one seemed to care as long as they got to come up to her and yell, “Do you want to get lei’d?” Then they would throw a lei over her head and laugh maniacally while chugging beer.

Justin dragged her around the party, introducing her to all of his fraternity brothers and some of the girls they were fooling around with, though he didn’t always know their names. She wondered briefly whether people thought that she was fooling around with Justin, and drowned herself in hunch punch at the thought.

Her phone was glued to her side, but she had never heard from Brady. After two glasses of the hunch punch, she wasn’t thinking straight about anything. She rested her hand on Justin’s arm and laughed at a joke some girl had made that she would have normally never found funny. But for some reason right now, it was hysterical.

“What is in this stuff?” she asked, turning to face Justin and trying to stand up straight.

He laughed when he got a good look at her. “Fuck, you’re wasted. That is like vodka and Everclear with a hint of Kool-Aid for taste.”

“Are you kidding me?” she croaked. “I could die!”

“You’re not going to die,” he said, placing his hand on her waist to steady her. “You’ll be fine. Just loosen up a bit.”

“A bit? I’m falling over,” she said, as she did just that and started laughing again.

Justin reached down and helped her stand up once again. “You’re a mess. When was the last time you drank this much?”

Liz shook her head side to side really fast. “Never. No, once!”

“Maybe I should take you home,” he suggested. He rested her back against the wall of the fraternity house and leaned closer to her.

“I don’t know. I’m having such a good time, though,” she said, even though she knew that didn’t sound like her at all.

“You’re drunk, Liz. Let me take you home.”

“I’m drunk?” she asked, poking at his chest. “You’re drunk too!”

He shook his head. “No way. I haven’t had much at all. I can totally drive.”

“I’ll just take a cab.”

“Seriously, I can drive you.”

“Fine! Take me home then,” she said, letting him take her arm and guide her away from the house.

Warning alarms went off in her head as they got closer and closer to his car. She was suddenly not feeling well at all. Why was walking so difficult? Why was the entire universe spinning right now? That wasn’t a good sign, was it?

“Are you sure you can drive?” she asked, covering her mouth and trying to hold back the rising sickness in the pit of her stomach.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you feeling? You look a bit green.” He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her.

“Ugh, yeah, I feel a bit green.”

“Are you going to make it all the way home?” he asked.

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth to speak. He walked around the car, sliding inside and pulling out of Frat Court. The car ride did not help. It really wasn’t a long drive. On the roads this late at night when few people were out, it was less than five minutes from her place to his, but it felt like an eternity. She wasn’t sure if her vision was blurring or if they were swerving. Were they swerving?

“Justin, are you drunk?” she asked as they crossed over Franklin Street as the light turned red. She heard tires screech to a halt as they coasted through the busiest intersection in Chapel Hill.

“I’m fine. We’re almost there,” he said, taking the first right onto Rosemary Street.

Then she saw it in her rearview mirror: blue lights.

“Fuck!” Justin cried as the police car pulled up behind his car.

“Shit, Justin,” Liz said, straightening in her seat and wishing she had a f**king shirt. She was in a car, getting pulled over by the police, in a miniskirt and bathing suit top. She felt ridiculous.

Justin pulled over to the side of the road, and the policeman came over to the window asking for his license and registration. Liz watched the next thirty minutes through a drunken haze. Justin was asked to step out of the car. He failed the sobriety tests with flying colors. The police officer informed him that he was being arrested for driving under the influence. Liz watched the officer escort Justin into the backseat of the police cruiser. He would have to spend the night in jail.