IT’S SUCH A CONTRAST to see the same sisters who were barely clothed and completely sloshed just over a week ago completely sober, dressed in our school colors, ribbons in their hair as they greet the constant stream of parents entering our house. I’m on the front line, handing out programs to smiling faces as they file in out of the Florida heat. My parents aren’t among them, since last minute work issues kept them from making the trip down for Family Weekend, but Erin has volunteered her mom as tribute to keep me company—almost too eagerly, actually.
I find out very quickly why.
After an introductory speech from my Grand Big, Kelsey, the parents get tours of the house while sipping lemonade and Erin introduces me to a thin, older version of herself.
“Mom, this is Skyler, my Little,” Erin says, gesturing to me.
“Elizabeth Xander.” I take her dainty hand in my own and attempt a shake, but she stops me short with a tight, brief squeeze. “Pleasure, I’m sure.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” I volunteer, my eyes catching Erin’s. She rolls them behind her mom’s back and I grin. “Would you like to see our rooms?”
Elizabeth shakes her head, scouring the living room of the house with an upturned nose. Her dark blonde hair looks just like Erin’s, especially since it’s pulled back into a tight bun, throwing more attention to the strand of pearls draped over her collar bone. She and Erin are both in brightly colored Lily Pulitzer dresses and wedges, and suddenly I wish I’d let Erin dress me this morning. I’m in jean shorts and a white tank top with our letters on it.
“No need, I had the full tour last year.”
“We should probably head over to the tailgate, anyway,” Erin adds. Her mother nods and they link arms, leading the way.
Family Weekend is packed with random events for students and their parents, including everything from guest lectures to fraternity parties. The biggest event, however, is the baseball game tailgate. The grassy event area right beside the baseball stadium is transformed into the ultimate tailgate experience, food and booze included, and we all pack the stands for the night’s game. Well, those of us who make it past the day drinking, anyway.
Elizabeth talks the entire walk over, chatting with us about her latest shopping trips and Botox treatments. Anytime Erin attempts bringing up her position in the sorority or her classes, her mother loses interest immediately, tapping away on her phone or changing the subject back to something superficial. It’s clear she doesn’t approve of Erin’s major or career choice.
“Oh my, am I seeing double?” A smooth voice drawls from behind us just as we reach the edge of the tailgate yard. Bright orange, teal, and white tents pepper the grass and our Student Government President speaks loudly over the microphone system, welcoming the parents to PSU. When we turn, Erin smiles at Landon, her latest fling and the owner of the smooth voice spitting out clichés. Still, her smile seems bleak, the same way it’s been for weeks, and I wonder how badly the stress of the Omega Chi website is getting to her.
“Hi,” she says sweetly and Landon grasps her gently by the elbow, pulling her just close enough to kiss her cheek before turning to Elizabeth. His blonde hair is almost too perfectly styled and his freshly tanned skin from Spring Break contrasts harshly with the pastels of his polo and frat shorts.
“You didn’t tell me you had a sister, Ex,” he flirts, reaching for her mom’s hand. She’s all smiles as he lifts it to his mouth for a kiss. Erin and I exchange glances. Is this guy serious right now?
“Aren’t you sweet as pie. I’m Elizabeth Xander, Erin’s mother. And you are?”
“Landon Turner, ma’am.”
“What a strong name,” she says, giggling, eyes bright. “Are you Erin’s boyfriend?”
“Mother,” Erin scolds, cheeks blushing a light shade of pink.
Landon doesn’t miss a beat. He pulls Erin in under his arm and smiles a bright, charming, country smile—all toothy and genuine. “Just friends for now, ma’am. But I’m working on her.”
Elizabeth’s brows shoot up and she grins at Erin. “Well heavens, child, give in already!”
We all laugh, me mostly to ease the awkwardness, and Erin leads us to a shaded picnic table near the alumni tent. It’s a little too warm today, the sun shining high in the sky without a cloud to block it. I’m already sweating slightly from the walk over and gladly take the fresh bottle of water offered to us by the volunteers as we sit down.
“So, Landon, what’s your major?” Erin’s mom asks, sipping from her own bottle. She’s leaning over the dark teal picnic table, ready to devour whatever he says. Of course, when he tells her he’s pre-med with a focus in plastic surgery, his Ken doll smile locked in place and his hand running through his blonde hair, she practically sits in his lap.
She lets him ramble on and I lean in to whisper to Erin. “You okay?”
“Fine. This is actually tame for her, believe it or not.”
“I think she’s planning your wedding.”
“Like I said, tame.”
We both giggle but neither Landon nor Elizabeth notice us. Draining the rest of my water, I tip the empty plastic toward Erin. “I’m going to get a refill and see if I can track down the other girls. Find me later?”
She nods and I don’t even bother interrupting the conversation between Landon and Erin’s mom to excuse myself. After tossing my empty bottle in one of the recycling bins, I snatch a turkey wrap off the alumni table and walk the tents. It’s kind of funny seeing the parents on campus. Some of them are starry-eyed, possibly setting foot on a college campus for the first time while others look comfortable as they chat about the “glory days” of PSU. I smile, realizing my parents belong to that first group. Skott, my older brother, never went to college. He just left straight for the Peace Corps after high school. I’m the first and only one in our family to ever attend a university, which makes me feel strangely like a pioneer for the Thornes.
I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for poker, and now that I’m getting noticed by big poker blogs and reporters, the two worlds are crossing more than I ever thought they would. Adam was right to call it off with me before this summer, because there’s no way I’ll have time for him. Or anyone else, for that matter. I feel like I’m at the precipice of something huge, and now is my time to make a name for myself, so I’m filling my schedule with tournaments all summer long. If I have it my way, I’ll have next year’s tuition paid off by July so I can start focusing on bigger and better things.
Like the American Poker Club Tournament.
A light breeze rolls across the tailgate yard and blows my hair back as I round the second row of tents, mind still wandering. It’s a tempting thought, entering the APC tourney. I’m not prepared enough to enter it this year. Hell, I don’t even have a third of the entry fee. But if I play my cards right, I just might be able to enter the one next May, and if I won or even placed in the top three, I’d be set. No more having to work tournaments at night and be a sorority girl during the day. I could get my parents completely out of debt and then some, tuition for the rest of my time at PSU would be paid, and I could focus on my major and figure out what I want to do with my life.
The thought makes me giddy.
“Hey heartbreaker,” Adam says, bumping into me from the side and stirring me from my thoughts. His signature goofy grin is firmly in place, his dark hair a little unruly and a light sweat is breaking on his forehead.
“Oh God, not you, too. I really hope that’s not my new nickname.”
He shrugs, falling in line with my rhythm. “I don’t know, I think it fits pretty perfectly.”
“Says the one who broke up with me.”
“That’s not what the tabloids are saying.”
I blanch. “What?”
Adam’s shit-eating grin grows wider and when I realize he’s joking, I shove him hard into the pole of a passing tent. He laughs, dodging it easily and scooping me up into a hug from behind. “You should have seen your face!”
“You’re an asshole.”
He drops me back to the ground easily and we walk the yard until we find my sisters, talking the entire time about Spring Break and his upcoming chapter elections. It’s nice to know we can still be friends with no awkward feelings between us. Adam Brooks is a nice guy to have in your corner, and I’m glad I didn’t screw that up by tagging him as my boyfriend for a few months.
I realize it may be quite a while before I let anyone hold that title again, because the truth is, my heart is already taken. Poker is my boyfriend, and we’re taking our relationship to the next level this summer. It’s getting serious between us, and Poker is one jealous son-of-a-bitch who hates the idea of sharing me. Probably smart, since the last thing I want to be known as if I make it to the tournament next May is a slut or a man-eater. If I’m going to get my name out of the headlines for my dating lifestyle and into the limelight for my skills, I’ve got some work to do.
I feel some big changes on the horizon.
And I’ve got my game face on.