I thought the few times I had been here when he had people over were too crowded, but Cal is going for a record tonight. He has somehow managed to fit over fifty people into an nine hundred square foot apartment, four hundred of which are bedrooms, and off limits to partygoers. Lucky for me though, I have managed to seamlessly blend into the mob of people and haven't run into my brother the entire thirty minutes I've been here. 

To my surprise, Cal and his roommate have made some improvements to their space as well. A makeshift bar is now housed in the corner of the room that wasn't here before. The top is just a folding plastic table, but instead of its legs, the bar top is being held up by cases of Busch Light stacked together in a block U shape. Lights strung across the front resemble mini red solo cups and a illuminate a hand written sign reading "Tits Only" as the form of payment. It's impressive really, that someone potentially wasted their remaining brain cells to formulate this.

I've managed to speak too soon as I watch a group of people gather around the bar and pour their own round. As they collectively bend their bodies to do a no handed shot off the surface, my brother's face pops into the clearing.

 "Shit!" I quickly bring my hands to cover my face, hoping that the skin on them has magically sprouted into the color changing scales of a chameleon, hiding me in plain sight. 

"Hey Sis, did you just get here?" Cal asks as he throws his arm around my shoulder. The mixture of beer and liquor on his breath is enough to paralyze a horse. I exhale big, but regret it because now I don't have any clean air to breathe in.

"Uh, a few minutes ago, yeah."I say, trying to be polite.

He uses the grip around my neck to control my movements, shifting me closer to the gorup he just came from. "Everyone meet Ryn. Ryn meet, well everyone," Cal announces as he pushes me forward to center stage. He doesn't bother giving any of their names, not that I care to hear them, but at least the moment might not be so awkward. I scan the group to see it filled with guys I assume are also members of the football team based on their sizes, mixed with a few girls that probably own several items embroidered with varying Greek letters. 

"Hi," I say awkwardly, as I push my hands deep into the pockets of my denim pants. I'm struck with an overwhelming feeling like I'm naked in public, or at the very least forgot to put on deodorant and everyone can smell me. 

"So this is the girl that has our boy pussy whipped?" A profusely sweating guy slurs. 

"Don't be fucking weird dude this is my sister," Cal quickly corrects his friend.

"In that case, can I get you a drink?" One of the other equally large men says.

Another body enters the group, towering behind the group of girls, resting his hands on the shoulders of one of them. His eyes find mine almost instinctively, but he stays silent. I look away quickly, not wanting to let Taylor get to me while I'm vulnerable.I also hold my arms to my body a little more tightly in case I actually do smell. 

"Don't fucking think about it. Ryn is off limits. Besides, none of you would make the cut. Ryn is into a different breed," Cal jokes. 

"You can just say lesbian Cal, it's the twenty-first century," The girl underneath Taylor's hands says.

"Not a lesbian, just immune to the bullshit of the opposite sex." My tone comes out matter of factly as I finally regain the nerve to speak for myself. The wave of confidence also has me looking at Taylor, who of course, is still watching me. His face remains solid and intense, forcing me to break the contact first. 

I allow Cal to pour me a shot as he makes a round for the group. I throw it back quickly, mostly to avoid having to think about it and to let the clear liquor burn my insides. That way if my cheeks are flushed, I can blame it on the alcohol and ignore the fact that Taylor is still watching me. I turn and begin to walk further into the apartment, but Cal quickly strides to my side.

"Now she's ready to have fun! Where is that roommate of yours?" he says.

I scan the room to look for Alyssa and spot her in the corner with a dark hair guy with a very visible bicep bulging out of his t-shirt sleeve, nuzzled close and whispering into her ear. She slaps at his chest and giggles like a little school girl at whatever he just said to her. If I had to guess the statement would probably make me throw up in my mouth.

I point, "There, with a guy that from the looks of it got a two for one deal at a spray tan shop and decided to use both today. What is that awful tan?" I ask.

The guy has pulled away from Alyssa, giving us a good view of his face, that is bronzed to the point that he looks like a roasted chicken in a commercial, the brown and golden colors so artificial they glisten if the light hits them just right.

"Ahhh that would be Nathan. He lost a bet, but you should definitely keep her away from Nathan."

"I'm not her keeper," I scoff.

"Don't worry, Nathan will do something any second to ruin any chance with her anyway," Cal notes as we both continue to watch the interaction from across the room.

Right on cue, Nathan whispers something else that makes her eyes go wide. Alyssa begins to scan the room, considering I'm still watching her, we make eye contact almost instantly. She begins to move, yelling behind her, "Oh sorry, my roomie needs me!" 

"Oh thank God I spotted you! He just asked me if I thought he could bench press me, which is weird, but then he mentioned his favorite way to workout is naked." Alyssa shrugs it off, giving the thought only a second of her time before she's turning to face Callan. 

"And who might you be?" Alyssa says, earning a smirk from Cal. He's eating up the newfound attention. It's just the way he likes it.

"Alyssa, meet my brother, Callan. Cal, Alyssa" I say a flat palm between them waving from right to left then back again.

"Callan Quinn,'' he says, reaching his hand out between all of us. Alyssa takes it, but Cal doesn't immediately let go after the initial shake. "It's a pleasure. You know, when Ryn mentioned you, she failed to mention that gorgeous smile of yours. I mean seriously, incredible."Alyssa blushes and takes a sip of the cup in her other hand attempting to cover said smile.

I mutter, "It would be extremely weird if the first thing I told you about Alyssa is how beautiful and perfectly straight her teeth are." They both, however, ignore me and continue their two sided conversation. Obviously my part in their introduction is over. I don't move though, I need to monitor this situation.

"Callan Quinn... where have I heard that name before?" Alyssa asks, one of her brows raised. 

"My sister and I grew up close to here. Are you from here?" Cal presses.

Alyssa glances at me, but I just shrug. I don't envy my brother. I don't envy the easy nature of socialization he possesses, because deep down I don't think it's genuine. In the same way Taylor spoke the other day, it's more of a ruse he's just so used to using. He's playing coy just to have the upper hand immediately and poor Alyssa is too gullible to notice. 

Cal has it down to a system. Always starting with a compliment on a physical feature in a non catcalling charming way, trying to accentuate that he sees more than tits and ass on a girl. When she takes the bait, he leans in just a tad so he's in their personal space, but not too close that you come off as a creep or with ill intentions.

My brother uses the same system for all interactions like this. He's been running it since middle school, using each failed attempt—the few there have been—to carefully curate a conversation that leads the girl right where he wants her. I've been witness far too many times to him complementing and using his body language to his advantage.

The only resemblance in the Quinn twins is our eye color and the gentle slope of our noses. Our hair colors would be the same bronze color, if I didn't bleach mine lighter like it has been for the last four years now. The way Cal's strands are hanging on to the sun they got this Summer makes us look even more similar right now. 

I've never minded that I didn't get the Quinn looks, because to me if I don't look like my dad that means I must look like my mom. That gives me another piece of her that I get to carry around with me every day for the rest of my life.

I only wish I could roll my eyes harder at the way Cal threw our last name in there because he knows that I, unlike him, don't care to be associated with that name in these city limits. It's like he wants people to know he's a big deal without actually telling them he's a big deal. 

I reach my hand to his right arm and pinch, indicating my disapproval of this little interaction. There are thousands of eligible girls on this campus my brother can run through. With the way that Alyssa is staring at him, like he is a rare delicacy that she just has to have, might mean that our budding friendship won't actually stand the test of time. 

So I take it upon myself to tell it how it is.

"He plays football here. Matter of fact he is the almighty quarterback that will no doubt lead our school to that second title in a row," I shrug. "I need fresh air. You coming too, Alyssa or?"

"God Ryn, lighten up!" Callan says at the same time Alyssa's face lights up with realization.

"Why didn't you tell me that your brother was like, the hottest guy on campus!" Alyssa playfully swats at his check causing Cal to smirk which leaves me with no choice but to make a gagging noise. 

"I didn't mean like hot hot, not that you aren't good looking," she says flashing him a smile. "But like everyone knows who he is! That means your dad is like the most well liked guy in this entire city!"Her attention is now turned on to me, which I would appreciate a little more if she hadn't just mentioned the last person I want to discuss right now. 

"I think your sample size is biased," I mutter.

"Can I get you another drink?" Cal asks her. She looks to me for permission. I throw my arm in front of me in a guiding motion towards the kitchen to my left. I fake a seal that needs to be broken and make my way to Cal's bedroom, shutting the door behind me and then sliding my back down it until my butt meets the floor.

This was a mistake. I'm not having fun. I was hoping that shot of vodka would give me a loving push into a good time, but instead it's created a hostile headspace. I've spent the last year avoiding this type of situation, anything with the temptation to relapse me into the person I was, to the feelings that consumed me. I have spent a year rewriting the mistakes I've made, but what if all along they were etched into me like a tattoo instead of the simple pen doodles I was imagining?

I feel my phone vibrate against my leg. Turning the screen over I see a message from Gabi.

Gabriella Brown: You got this.

I don't know how she does that, but I will never not be thankful for it.