Dirty Rush Read Online Free PDF Page B

toward me.
    â€œWhoaaaaa,” he said. “You clean up nice, huh?”
    Ew, I thought. I hate when people say that.
    â€œThanks, Jack.”
    â€œSo . . .”
    â€œSo . . .”
    â€œSo, like . . .”
    â€œAre you having fun with your friend?” I asked.
    â€œOh, Blair? She’s just a . . .”
    â€œFriend?”
    â€œYeah. That’s what I was going to say.”
    â€œAh. Cute.”
    He may have been adorable, but Jack was not the conversationalist I’d met in class. He was drunk, however.
    â€œYou wanna come check out my room?”
    â€œHmmmmm. I think I’ll pass.”
    Iwanted to hang out with the Jack I thought I was meeting here, not the jackass he’d turned out to be.
    â€œTay!” Meg squealed, pushing her way toward us. “You have to come with me, there’s an extremely babed-out business major who wants to meet you, and by ‘meet you’ I mean ‘bone you.’ ”
    As I was dragged away from Jack, I looked back just in time to hear him say, “See you in class, I guess?”
    â€œYeah.” I flashed him a million-dollar smile. “I guess.”
    â€œAlso,” Meg said as we walked away from Jack, “did you invite someone named Jonah? The door guy just texted me. They’re not letting him in.”

3.
HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII . . .
    â€œC an you please turn off your phone?”
    Those are the words that woke me from the deepest sleep I’d ever been in.
    â€œTaylor.”
    I did a quick body status check before opening my eyes.
    â€œTaylor?”
    Definitely hungover, definitely tired, my knees still felt like they’d been assaulted, but thankfully and perhaps most important, I recognized the feeling of my sheets against my skin. I was in my bed, in my dorm room. Thank you, Jesus, or whoever it was who got me home safe. The voice got louder.
    â€œTAYLOR!”
    Irealized that the booming voice from across the room belonged to my generally quiet, adorably dweeby roommate, Morgan Hardy. She had short brown hair and a kind of smushed yet friendly face. She was not the type of girl who gave two fucks about how she presented and it totally worked for her. We didn’t really know each other yet, but here she was screaming at me to wake up. Ugh, dorm life was a bizarre thing to get used to.
    â€œWhat? I’m sleeping. Stop, seriously. Leave me alone.”
    â€œYour phone has been going off for, like, thirty minutes and it’s really annoying. I’m trying to sleep.”
    Last night? Had that happened?
    I couldn’t tell if what I remembered was real or just an intense dream. It was this strange combination of nostalgia and feeling completely detached from the events that took place. Things could have taken a very dark turn for me, but Meg, Sabrina, Colette, and the twins made sure that didn’t happen. The “incident” ended up being an afterthought—a minor blip, a footnote—to one of the craziest, most fun nights I’d had in a long time.
    But holy shit, my head felt like it was in a fucking vise. Switching from beer to Meg’s Adderall juice to vodka and sugar-free Red Bull to vodka and regular Red Bull to Jell-O shots had not been a good idea.
    I needed to come out of my sheet cocoon, deal with the day, my hangover, and my annoyed roommate. It took a few moments to focus on any of my surroundings. Two plain wooden desks, two ugly beds, a mini fridge, and a weird framed poster of some ironic eighties movie called The Lost Boys hanging over Morgan’s bed. I could really only muster enough energy to say one thing.
    â€œI’m a cliché.”
    â€œSorry to rain on yourexistential parade, but can you turn off your phone? Your choice of text alert leaves a lot to be desired.” Morgan smiled.
    â€œYeah, sorry.” I turned off the ringer.
    The roommate situation could have been a lot