Both Jake and I were exhausted after our vertical-sixty-nine attempt. Practically lifeless, my knees wobbled as I rolled out of his bed, secured my clothes, and left. Even though I'd comfortably napped in his bed while he was at practice, I still wanted my exit on my terms and had separately driven over to his house.

Fatigue dragged my limbs in temptation that I stayed overnight but I ignored the wistful look in Jake's eyes when I left his room. Still mildly pissed at him and honestly in a birthday mindfuck, I only waved a hand behind me.

If Jake was surprised that I hadn't kissed him goodbye like I'd previously done, then he showed no signs of it. Instead, his eyes half-closed before I'd shut the door, so I locked it behind me for him.

The glowered bitch-face expressions and curious-roommate looks downstairs blurred out of my view as I left as quickly as possible. Once in my car, the Adam and Eve bags on my passenger's seat pulled a smile across my lips.

I can't remember the last time I had a birthday that didn't completely suck balls.

The anger that knotted in my chest from the way Jake had brought up my birthday dissolved the more distance I put between us, and was slowly replaced with a warmer, glowing sensation. I still couldn't believe that Jake had given me a few replacement dildos, let alone shopped for them. The fact he'd taken which ones I liked seriously and how he'd used one on me like he'd studied a fucking manual blew more than my mind.

Orgasms aside, I couldn't push aside the reality that today was not just my birthday but the tenth anniversary of when my mother had left. I prided myself on being emotionally unaffected but that shit hurt.

Tears blurred the night view of the streets I was gratefully familiar with and my breath turned ragged and uneven. My hands wrenched and unwrenched around the steering wheel so tightly that I was surprised I hadn't yanked it off by the time I parked it in my usual lot walking distance from Reiber.

My phone, which I'd shut off at Jake's, buzzed with multiple messages. I barely read through the ones that flashed over my screen because they mostly read, 'I know it's your birthday and you hate it but I'm going to wish you a happy one anyways' bullshit. The only response I had was turned it off and jammed it into my back pocket, but it rang when I got halfway up the sidewalk to Rieber.

Normally I would've ignored a call like all the messages but answered it when I saw the ID. "Mrs. H?"

"Harper! Hi," she rushed out. "I'm sorry, I know it's late and you have class tomorrow morning."

"It's fine." I clenched my other hand tighter as the gift bags bounced against my right thigh. "I'm uhh... just taking a walk."

"Right, well Jake called me today," she offered like those words explained anything. My eyebrows scrunched together when she added, "And so did your dad."

Mental note, improve the males in my life. The fuck are they calling Mrs. H for?

"So, I just wanted to let you know about Saturday's plans."

"Saturday's plans?" My reflection in the glass entrance doors showed my lack of enthusiasm. With a hard yank on the door, I added, "If you need me to pick you up from the airport tomorrow, I'm in class until noon. But just text me the flight info and I'll see what I can do."

"Actually, my flight gets in at eight am on Saturday morning."

My not-morning person's shoulders sagged at that idea. "Yeah, I can do that."

Her voice practically dripped with excitement, "Sounds good, so we can get a jump start on what I've got planned for the day."

Fuck, what now?

"Uhh..." I grunted out as I climbed the stairs up to the third floor. While Mrs. Harrison outlined her plans, short pants huffed out of me by the time I reached it.

My nose wrinkled when I realized Saturday's game was a night game, with a seven pm start time. But my eyes lit up when they caught the small frame of my roommate from where she brushed her teeth at the bathroom sink. Curiosity filled her eyes when I smiled widely.

"Can my roommate come?"

Early Saturday morning, Li rode with me to LAX. Once Mrs. Harrison sat in my shotgun seat, we went straight to Ciel Spa, a high-end boutique salon in Beverly Hills. When she had told me that she'd booked appointments for us here, I assumed Li needed the relaxation and pampering just as much as me.

Plus, if I have to be her plus-one at Thanksgiving then she needs to return the favor.

Less time with me and Mrs. Harrison equals less poking into my birthday and relationship status with her son.

Li's parents' unacceptance of Kieran bothered her the more time she spent with him, which had turned into daily 'studying' sessions at his place that looked like she'd been thoroughly 'studied' by the time she got back. She also came back with stars in her eyes and two more Kieran posters, which made me wonder if he either got them for free from UCLA or printed the damn things himself in his apartment.

Poor Li's mood grew more and more irritated when she saw messages or received calls from her parents. One exasperated look from her Friday morning had prompted my invitation, which Mrs. H. was all over. On the drive up from LAX, the two chatted like they'd known each other longer than I'd known Mrs. Harrison. Like a tourist, she also ate up Li's wiki-like tour about buildings and interest points along the 405.

So much better than me. All I see is palm trees, smog, and fucking traffic.

Parking in Beverly Hills was a bitch but once we found a spot and walked inside Ciel Spa, we were greeted by an almost entirely white, pristine space accented only with silver, fluted champagne glasses, and white chocolate-covered strawberries. At Li's uncertainty and my and Mrs. H.'s enthusiasm, the three of us delved into a five-hour pampering process.

After Li and mine's split ends had been chopped off, Mrs. H. threw in highlights for mine, then we'd all gotten massages. Mrs. Harrison opted for a regular oiled-up rejuvenation massage while Li went with hot stone.

Didn't realize she'd orgasm when I recommended it.

Since dorm room showers and over-the-counter moisturizers both worked up to a certain extent, I'd gone with Ciel's exfoliation treatment on my face, neck, shoulders, and upper back, then a deep-tissue massage. While the exfoliation process stung my skin with a hot, chemical peel sensation, I didn't mind since half the dirt in Los Angeles' air came out of my pores.

My massage therapist was a lovely man named, ironically, Harrison. At 6ft3 with a muscular body like a linebacker's, strong hands whose touch was appreciated by every inch of me, crystal blue eyes, and shampoo-commercial stylized dirty blonde hair, he fit the perfect specimen manscaped-metrosexual mold.

Harrison was also fruitier than Feast's salad bar, but in a sweet and endearing 'gay-boyfriend' vibe. He was also a damn good salesman, so I also indulged in a vanilla and coconut scrub that soothed over the exfoliation's abrasive sting. My body hummed with relaxed content while that sloughed off in a warm soaking bathtub. I nearly fell asleep in that tub and grudgingly got out for the next process.

"Is this your pregame ritual, Harper?" Li whispered at me from beneath her pale green avocado mask. "I now know what a bowl of guac feels like."

"With as much shit as those boys put us through." Mrs. Harrison sighed. "We should do this before every game."

"I wish, but no." I chuckled since Li was out of her comfort zone. "And hey, don't pretend that the whole place heard you moaning during your hot stone massage."

My teasing wasn't entirely true. Only the adjacent rooms, which were me and Jake's mom, and the hallway heard Li's low, near sexual moans. If I hadn't known her masseuse was a forty-year old woman named Jane then I would've teased her that Kieran had some competition.

Surrounded by eucalyptus, jasmine, and a babbling brook piano music that triggered my pee sensations, Li sat between me and Mrs. Harrison in white leather salon chairs. The three of us wore the trademark white cotton robes and our hair was pulled back with white headbands while their avocado and cucumber masks did their magic. My vanilla and coconut scrub had more than softened my skin, so my face sat bare with a relaxed, warm glow sensation to it.

Also at Mrs. Harrison's insistence, all three of us sat together for mani-pedis. At my recommendation, Li opted for a French manicure while I got light pink and red dot flowers on my thumbs and big toes' nails.

The entire five-hour experience was so relaxing that I hated to get up from our chairs, until we got to the part of who paid for it.

"You sure?" I asked Mrs. H. and tapped the outside of my purse, where my Amex card waited for me to burn a birthday hole into it. "Dad told me -"

"Like I already told you, I talked to your dad and it's covered," she said with a dismissive hand wave that I knew meant Dad had given her money too. Her eyes closed and she leaned her head back with a sigh. "Besides, I never do this anymore and you've saved me so much time on gas and time with the flights. Such a treat, I could take a nap right here and now."

Since Dad never spent any money on himself, the man sat on a landfill-sized pile of his hard-earned money. In addition to his business' startup loan, his house's mortgage, my UCLA tuition, and our cars were paid off. Even with the high cost of California living, Dad had more than he ever knew what to spend it on.

Unlike the Harrisons, which is why I should pay.

"Then I'll get the tips," I huffed once we'd dressed and stood at the check-out with a paper copy of the services menu for future reference. "And we both know Jake wants you here, even if his stubborn ass won't admit it."

Since Harrison had rubbed and sated me into a molten pile of gooey and satisfied muscles, I more than happily tipped him, Mrs. H's therapist, and orgasm-Jane. Ciel's front desk staff also hooked me and Li up with more 'free' products and samples than what fit into our purses plus Mrs. H's mom-sized purse. My elbow tucked my bulging bag into my side as we thanked the salon team and stepped out into a pretty pleasant afternoon.

"What's next?" Mrs. Harrison cooed and slipped a pair of large black sunglasses over her eyes. With a bright smile aimed at me, she offered, "Lunch and shopping?"

"That lying on the table thing, umm... wore me out," Li confessed and palmed her cheeks. "I need a nap. But my skin feels so soft, like a baby's butt, thank you Mrs. Harrison. Harper, since the UCLA game's at three, think you could drop me off?"

"Yeah. Are you going to eat at the game?" I asked her as we climbed back into my car. When she nodded silently, I shifted my eyes to where Mrs. Harrison sat shotgun. "Double-header football with greasy stadium food or lunch and shopping?"

Even under sunglasses, I caught a slight sparkle in her eyes. "Is that even a question?"

"Li, I was thinking we'd try Sugar Fish," I caught how the interest sparkled in her eyes at the sushi place she'd recommended. "Still want to eat greasy chicken tenders?"

She smiled brightly at Mrs. Harrison, then me. "Is that even a question?"

Mrs. Harrison - Gianna she insisted and I forgot every time - Li, and I grabbed a late but mouth-watering lunch at Sugar Fish. Surrounded by blonde wood tables, wall, and ceiling decor with red brick and black metal accents, the place was busy due to their lack of reservations. Still five hours before the game, the crowd was definitely more snooty ladies who looked down their noses and not USC fans.

We all ordered some form of their 'Trust Me," lunch menu, which I loved both the concept and every option listed. Li's Trust Me Lite had mostly the same as mine, just fewer portions. My mouth practically purred from the flavors that my teeth sunk into on the salmon sushi.

Over the clicks of our chopsticks, our lunch conversation flowed easily until a particular busty, platinum blonde extension girl stopped by our table. Her long legs were on full display from her five-inch white heels up to the white miniskirt that barely covered her ass.

"Harper?" Brittany cooed out and blinked her blue-gray eyes down at me. "Is that you, bestie?"

No, it's not.

Li's eyebrows drew together at the last word, while Mrs. Harrison's face remained completely impassive. The slight strain in her eyes showed that she possibly recognized Bambi.

"It is you!" Bimbo's boobs jiggled as she laughed. "This place is the absolute best, so foodgasmic."

Not that I did, but I'm never using that phrase ever again.

"It is... really good." I nodded and pointed my chopsticks at Li. "Brittany, this is my roommate Li, and -"

She interrupted me with a dismissive hand wave. "Can I speak with you for a moment, in private?"

My previously completely relaxed forehead as both eyebrows raised.

That's a hard no. Or even the limpest soft-dick no.

"I'm kind of busy right now." I waved a hand at Li and Mrs. Harrison. "Can I ignore you some other time?"

Brittany's eyes flashed for a moment, then her lips pursed to the point of duck lips. "I think you'll want to hear this, Harper."

"If you're here to tell me you're in college because you got fired from the M-and-M factory for throwing away too many W's, it's okay," I cooed out softly. "We're not all perfect, I'm just glad you're stringing words into full sentences now, bestie."

I nearly choked on the last word and noticed how one of Li's hands clamped over her mouth. Her head slightly shook at my rudeness but the sparkle of amusement in her eyes was undeniable.

Curiosity killed the cat in heat, so I took advantage of Brittany's stunned silence while her last remaining brain cell processed my insults. With a sigh, I set down my chopsticks and narrowed my eyes up at her. "Anything you have to say to me, say it."

"Fine." Brittany leaned over and palmed her hands on the table. With narrowed eyes I barely saw under her thick, false lashes, her voice lashed out, "I know you're dating Jake. He probably cheated on me, you jersey-chasing skank."

I was never more glad that I'd put down my food because I would've for sure choked to death by how hard I inhaled.

Did her last hair bleach procedure kill off the last brain cells?

My snort drowned out the one Mrs. Harrison released. Zero effort was needed for my sarcastic, "Really. Just when I thought it wasn't possible for me to underestimate you, here you go again."

While mentally I shuffled through all of my best insults, Brittany squeaked out what I think was a laugh. I wasn't entirely sure since I had too many applicable insult options.

Take my lowest priority, then slot yourself in right underneath it.

"Oh yes, really." She leaned over until I saw right into her Silicon Valley. As threatening as her squeaky voice got, she warned me, "And you won't win. I've had Jake Harrison in my bed and he'll come crawling back to it, begging and pleading."

A hearty laugh erupted from my mouth as I sat back and looked up at this clueless lunatic. Only the presence of Jake's mom held back me vomiting the truth.

Jake's wrapped around only one of us right now, you walking sack of silicon. And it's not you.

While my laughs increased in volume and intensity, Mrs. H.'s mouth dropped open, then she pretended she blotted it with her napkin. "Bridgette, was it?"

"Brittany," she clipped out and glared at me. "Not even your old bat mother here can defend what you did, stole my boyfriend from me."

My mouth erupted with hearty laughs and I pointed at Mrs. H. "This old bat here is -"

"- Tired of hearing auditory bullshit while I'm eating," Mrs. Harrison interrupted me, then winked at my slightly parted lips. "Brittany, good luck in your life's endeavors. I hope they involve one of your beautiful heels getting stuck in a manhole cover."

The corners of my mouth tugged upwards at the shade I didn't know Mrs. Harrison was capable of. At the clicked heels of Brittany's huffed exit, my laughs subsided and I took in a deep breath.

"I feel like I need to apologize for blondes now," I mumbled and looked at Jake's mom but jerked one thumb at Li. "And this one here can verify I did not pursue Jake, Mrs. H. And I certainly didn't -"

"I don't need any explanation on Jake's motivations. Nasty one there, Ellie told me about her but I'm glad I never met her." Mrs. Harrison shuddered, then reached across the table and palmed my closest wrist. "Only one reason he had any interest in that one."

Mrs. Harrison's one comment sucked all of the lightness that had built up inside me from our relaxing spa experience. In its place sat a festering, steamy lump of... well, I wasn't sure but it didn't feel good.

Well... fuck.

My lips twitched at her comment, but not into a smile. If I needed any other painful reminder of what my and Jake's arrangement was, while I doubted she meant to, his own mother had just slapped me with one.

After Mrs. Harrison and I dropped Li off at our dorm and did some retail therapy, my mood was only slightly lifted. I drooled over the Francos at Luxuriator's designer glasses boutique but went kinder on Dad's AmEx and settled for a 'lower' priced pair of pink-lensed Tom Ford's.

The weather was hotter here and I needed more shorts and sleeveless shirts. Mrs. H. more than happily obliged shopping in one small clothing store after enough, even admitted how she never shopped with Ellie. While I believed that and appreciated her company, the bittersweet reminder that she was Jake's mom wasn't going to change my own shitty mom situation, so I ignored the feelings that arose with that line of thinking and bought the shit I needed.

With my shopping bags packed in the trunk, we drove to the Coliseum with plenty of time before the game started.

"That was fun!" Mrs. H. sighed as we climbed out of my car at the parking lot.

"Really?" I side eyed her until she nodded.

By the third boutique clothing store, the fact we were on a 'take Harper shopping' trip was obvious, since she only casually browsed through the racks but never bought anything.

"Oh, yes." She clasped her hands over her chest. "In the three years I've come down here, not once did I go shopping. Dale would've passed out asleep by the second store, you know Ellie, and Jake's... not really into it either. He's more of a go in, get what he needs, and leave type. I think it's fun to look and browse the options, even if most is out of my price range."

"Right..." I stopped at the entrance and offered up my ticket, then purse for security's search-through.

Not two seconds after we sat down our seats, an uncertain female voice spoke out and sounded like music to my ears.

"Fuck, this close? Oh fuck, what am I doing here."

Both my and Mrs. Harrison's heads turned towards a medium-height girl with raven-black hair cut in blunt bangs and tied up in two high buns. A few strands of her hair blew around her ears, as she stood at the entrance to our row with her hands on her hips. As she side-stepped closer, I appreciated how her blood-red lips and flawlessly-applied green eyeshadow edged in black liner and mascara made her pale skin look like porcelain and blue eyes electric.

"Oh fuck, I'm sitting next to a -" She stopped her muttered thoughts and dragged her eyes over my appearance.

With her black jean shorts and ripped collar gray T-shirt, she was more dressed for a rock concert but I was all over her 'I don't give a fuck' vibe.

My defensive bitch mode switch flipped on and I lifted one eyebrow at her. "A what?"

"Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and giant silicon-racked Bambi," she spat down and sat down next to me with a quiet grunt. "Nice Tom Ford's too."

I lifted my eyes upwards, to where my new glasses still sat, and ignored the soft snort from Mrs. Harrison on my right side. "Bitch, I am no fucking Bambi. And these flotation devices are mother nature made."

"Right." She looked completely unconvinced, cupped her chin in her palms, and muttered, "This was a bad idea. Good sex isn't worth this shit."

If she calls it good, then she's already had it. And she's still here for the guy's game.

"Huh..." Curiosity prompted me and I nodded toward the warmups on the field. "Which one are you with?"

"Evan McGrath," she spat out his name like it left a bad aftertaste. "I don't even know what the fuck position he plays... on the field."

Oh shit, the fuckboy?

With the exception of Ellie for the game against UW, that seat had sat empty during the other home games that I'd attended. I'd actually used it as my purse stand. "He's -"

"Biggest fuckboy on the team, I know." Her chest lifted with an exaggerated sigh. Before I dug into my nonexistent empathy stockpile, her lips tugged into a smirk. "But even the biggest fuckboys can be broken with the right amount of fuckgirl discipline."

My jaw nearly dropped down to field-level.

I might possibly have my first girl crush.

"No offense but now I'm regretting it. I don't know shit about football." Her eyes glued on Evan. "I'm just a sucker for men in leather banana hammocks and a three-ball cock ring."

Stalker-level girl crushing activated.

The self-deprecation in her words, combined with the doubt that swirled in her eyes tugged a rare thread of sympathy through me. She sat up stiffer as I leaned over closer.

"Fuck whatever doubt you're feeling about not being good enough to be here," I murmured in her ear. "Trust me, it's easier to stomach the games that way."

"I guess..." She pressed her lips tightly together, until a white line outlined them. Her eyes shifted sideways and studied me until they widened slightly.

"Oh, fuck." A quiet chuckle bounced her shoulders. "You're Harrison's girlfriend, right? You know there's a whole site dedicated to -"

"I know." My eyes rolled but I extended my right hand. "And I won't be on it, trust me. His balls will be chewed up in a coffee grinder and tossed into the Pacific like cremation ashes before that happens. I'm Harper."

She eyed my hand for a moment, then slipped her cold palm into mine. "Delilah."