C H A P T E R    T W O

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"So you'll come?" I ask Jake that same night, glancing over at him from the passenger seat.

"Yeah, sure," he nods, glancing back over at me and flashing his signature grin. "Why not?"

"Your parents aren't going to be upset with you for missing Thanksgiving with them, are they?" I ask then.

"Nah," Jake says, shaking his head. "My family's pretty dysfunctional; they won't even notice I'm gone."

"Really?" I ask, looking over at him again. "That's sad."

"It's not that sad," Jake shrugs. "It's just how they are."

"Okay, well, I'm warning you now, my dad will probably be pretty difficult to deal with, so it's perfectly okay if you just get up and walk out during the middle of the dinner," I explain. "I would totally understand."

"I feel like it's not going to come to that," he chuckles. "But okay, sure, if it gets too bad, I'll just walk out."

Jake and I are in his car headed towards the Phi Psi house on campus for their dumb party. At the last minute, I nearly called Jake and bailed on this whole thing, but then I remembered that I needed to ask him to come over for Thanksgiving, so I decided not to. He's a nice guy and all, but I highly doubt he would have been willing to spend Thanksgiving putting up with me and my family if I hadn't come to their party.

After that, we ride in silence for the most part. That's the thing about Jake, he's not the best conversationalist. But 90% of the time when we're together, there's not much talking involved, so it's okay.

After about five minutes, we arrive at the Phi Psi house and Jake pulls around back to the reserved parking. I guess if there's anything good about having a fling with a frat guy, aside from the most obvious perk there is, there's the fact that whenever you go to parties, very rarely in my case, you don't have to find parking.

Jake and I get out of the car and head up the steps that lead up to the door of the frat house. Immediately, I wish that I had bailed out on this, even if it meant having Jake not come over to Thanksgiving dinner. I'm not even inside yet and I can already hear some EDM song blasting from inside and on the balcony above us, there's four girls laughing obnoxiously loud, looking like they're seconds away from alcohol poisoning.

"You're lucky you're cute, you know," Jake tells me, pushing open the door. "Because you're a sourpuss."

I would reply, but it's at that moment that we walk inside the frat house and the music is suddenly amplified by a million decibels, so trying to talk is pointless. I mean, I can literally feel the nerve damage in my ears.

And from that point on, everything you'd expect to happen at a frat party happens. Jake and I dance, we make out, we play a few rounds of beer pong and flip cup, and at some point, we end up upstairs in his room. Another pro of hooking up with a frat guy: you can hook up at parties and not in someone else's bed.

And just as Jake starts tugging my shirt over my head, my phone starts ringing in the pocket of my jeans. And though I so want to ignore it, I know that it's my mom and, like I said, she has a tendency to freak out.

"Sorry, I'll be quick, promise," I sheepishly say to Jake as he sighs and rolls off of me and onto the other side of the bed. "Hello, mother," I answer, pulling my phone out of my pocket and putting it up to my ear.

"Can you hear me?" She wonders. "I can hardly hear you, it's so loud in your background. Where are you?"

"I'm just out with a friend," I tell her, which, technically, isn't a lie. I know that she wouldn't really care if I told her where I really am and who I'm really with, but I don't see the need to go into unnecessary details.

"Okay, well, I need you to go and pick up Carter from the airport," she states, like that's just totally normal.

"What?" I sigh, sitting up, thinking that I must have heard her wrong. I know for a fact it was just a few hours ago when I reminded her that Carter and I were no longer together and not really friends, so I don't know why she would think to even ask me to go and pick him up from the airport. It's not like I hate Carter or anything, because I don't, it's just that I know that that would be really uncomfortable for the both of us.

"Yeah, he just landed in Birmingham and he needs a ride home," she explains. "You can go get him, right?"

"No, I can't," I vehemently reject. "Mom, I thought I told you before that Carter and I don't talk anymore."

"I know, but Richard isn't back from Abu Dhabi and Stephanie's up in Talladega, so she can't go get him."

"Well he can get an Uber," I suggest. "Or you or dad can go get him, or he can call a friend, or he can take the bus," I offer. "My point is, he doesn't need me to go and get him and I'm sure he doesn't want me to come and get him. It's bad enough I have to be with him on Thanksgiving; I don't wanna see him now too."

"An Uber from Birmingham to here is going to cost a fortune, you're a lot closer to him in Tuscaloosa than your father and I or any of his friends are, and there's no reason for him to spend extra money buying a bus ticket when he just had to buy a plane ticket to get here," my mom explains, shooting down all of my ideas.

"But I didn't even drive here," I remember. "My car is at home in the garage," I explain. "I rode with Jake."

"Oh, your boyfriend?" She asks.

"He's not my boyfriend," I sigh.

"Oh, is Jake not that one boy that you snuck in the house last night?"

"He is, but he's not my boyfriend," I reiterate. "He's just my friend."

"He must be a pretty close friend, huh?" My mom wonders and when I realize what she's implying, I blush.

"He's just a normal friend, mom, and I can't go and pick Carter up, and I have to go, so talk to you later."

"Savannah, he's your best friend," she says in a somber tone. "Don't just leave him stranded at the airport."

"Oh my god, okay, okay, okay," I groan, not in the mood for a guilt trip. "I'll go and get him, okay? Bye."

"Are you leaving?" Jake asks me after I hang up my phone and stand up from the bed with a sigh.

"Yeah, I have to go pick someone up at the airport," I tell him.

"You wanna use my car?" He offers, sitting up and pulling the keys out of the pocket of his pants.

And that's another nice thing about Jake, he's a pretty cool guy. Not a lot of people would offer to let the random person they're hooking up with and have only known for a few months just take their car and go an hour away just to pick someone up, yet here he is offering. Granted, Jake's parents are loaded, so I know he's got another car around here somewhere so it's not like he couldn't still go somewhere if he wanted to.

"I'll have it back in just a couple of hours, I promise."

"Take your time," he urges. "I wasn't really planning on going anywhere else tonight anyway," he says.

"Thanks," I say, taking the keys from him. "I owe you."

"I'm sure you'll think of something to make it up to me," Jake grins and then gets and out of the bed too.

"You're disgusting," I sigh, walking out of the room with him.

"I didn't do anything," he laughs, following me down the stairs.

I don't reply until we're through the hordes of loud people crowded around the house and to the front door.

"I think you know what you did," I say once we're both outside.

"No, you've just got a dirty mind," he says and I roll my eyes, since it's so clearly the opposite way around.

"Whatever," I scoff and then lean in to kiss him. "I'll see you in a couple hours," I say before walking off.

Jake reminds me to be careful and then he goes back in the house as I head down towards where he parked his car. Surprisingly, he isn't blocked in, despite the fact that he's been parked here for about an hour now.

Inside his car, I buckle on the seatbelt, turn the car on, find a good station, and then back out of the spot, heading down the main road on the way to Birmingham. And then I start to wonder why my mother was so adamant on me being the one to go pick up Carter. I mean, if she was so worried, she could have driven to Birmingham to pick him up, but she didn't. And why would Stephanie not be able to pick him up herself? Why would she go out of town on the night that Carter was meant to fly in for the holidays? It's just fishy.

And then it hits me. I remember how upset my parents (and Stephanie too, now that I think about it) were after Carter and I broke up. Why that was, I don't know, especially since they had to have seen it coming. And it dawns on me then that my mom's likely plotting to get Carter and I back together over the break; I see no other reason why she would be pushing so hard for me to go get him or have him for Thanksgiving.

Little does she know, though, I have absolutely no intention of ever getting back together with Carter. Ever.