Becca’s sitting on her bed doing homework while I’m trying to concentrate on the book I’m reading on my Kindle when someone bangs on the door. We both jump, but Becca’s the one to get up and answer. Peyton stands on the other side looking comfy but put together in pale pink leggings and a thick grey sweater.

“You whore,” she says, flopping down on my bed, “how could you spend the night in Clay Mitchell’s bed and not tell me?” By the end of the sentence, she’s shrieking. I stare at her in shock, confused as to how she found out, but she’s quick to tell me. “Clay came over to talk to Wyatt about it.” She gives me a sly look before telling me, “Apparently Max flipped his shit when he found out you were the girl in his brother’s bed.”

My bed bounces when Becca almost jumps from her bed to mine. “Ohmigod! You slept with Clay?” She practically sings his name, and I roll my eyes. I figure there’s no reason to confirm since Peyton already did. “Girl,” she shoves my shoulder, “you have got to give us details. I need size, girth … please tell me he’s large, in charge and knows what the hell he’s doing. A guy that hot? If he’s clueless, I’ll cry.” She pouts just thinking about it, and Peyton and I both grimace.

“You’re so gross, Becs,” Peyton says, scrunching her nose up in disgust. “I don’t want to know anything about Clay’s junk.”

I hold up my hands and hope they’ll stop. “Okay! First off,” I turn to Becca, “I have no idea what he’s working with or whether he knows what he’s doing. He slept on the couch, and I was in an alcohol coma.” Remembering she was the one I was at the party with, I narrow my eyes and glare at her. “Speaking of which … what happened to you last night? We were supposed to take care of each other, but Clay said he couldn’t find you when I passed out.”

Becca has the grace to look ashamed. “Well, you were flirting—and making out—with this guy, and his friend started flirting with me. I ended up dancing with him, and when we came back, you were gone and your guy said you took off with someone else. I was freaking proud of you! I would have been more proud if you’d hooked up with Clay, but whatever.” She gets up off the bed and the bouncing motion turns me a little green. One bounce was all right, but a second? It’s almost too much. My phone lands on my lap just before she sits down beside me again, and Peyton gives me a sympathetic look. “He did give me your phone though. He said you dropped it on your way out.”

I’m a little angry that she wasn’t at all concerned about me, especially since she knew how much we’d both had to drink. But, I guess that’s part of the problem. We were both pretty wasted, and neither of us was thinking clearly. It helps to know she couldn’t call or text me since she had my phone. I push the button to illuminate my screen, and see that she actually did text me.

Covering my mouth with one hand in an attempt to contain my giggles, I hold the phone out so both Peyton and Becca can see the message. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Luckily, this example of her drunk typing isn’t as bad as some I’ve seen her send, so I can at least decipher it. I’m fluent in Drunk-Becca.

Peyton starts to laugh, and points at Becca when she says, “You sent her a text while you had her phone! That’s awesome.”

Becca’s face turns red and she quickly turns the conversation back to me. “Anyway. Please, Kat, at least tell me you saw him in his boxers. Oooh … or you saw him naked. That would be so much better.” Her eyes get a little glassy as she talks about the possibility of seeing Clay nude, while Peyton snickers and shakes her head.

“No,” I sigh, “there was no naked Clay or even half-naked. When he woke me up he was wearing sweats and a t-shirt.”

Becca pouts, then instantly brightens. “Wait! Sweats? Was there a tent?” I’m saved from having to answer the question when a pillow smacks her in the face. Her eyes go wide before they narrow into slits and she glares at Peyton. “Settle down, Elsa.” She throws it back at Peyton, who goes red in the face. I’m not sure if she’s mad at the pillow, or the nickname.

This time, Peyton’s the one who gets angry, and I’m the one laughing. It looks like she’s about to pummel my roommate, and I can’t resist. “Let it go, let it go,” I start to sing off-key.

The pillow being thrown around hits me this time, and soon we’re all collapsed on my bed giggling. Once we’re all able to catch our breath, Peyton stands, smoothing down her messy hair and straightening her clothes. When she’s done, she pulls me up so I’m standing in front of her and wraps her arms around me, giving me a quick hug. She pulls back and smiles. “I need to get home and make sure Wyatt and Clay haven’t eaten everything in the apartment. Plus, I’m sure he didn’t do any of the laundry and having clothes tomorrow is necessary,” she says wryly.

She waves to Becca before shutting the door. Becca looks at me and grins. “Now that she’s gone, you can tell me the real story. You slept with Clay didn’t you?”

I flop onto the bed and cover my face with a pillow, so my scream doesn’t bring the entire building to our door. At the sound, Becca sighs. “I guess that’s a no.”

Lifting the pillow, I grin back at her. “That was a definite no. And, on that note, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.” It’s been a while since Clay brought me home, and I couldn’t eat much of the food he bought for me. She’s still pouting, but she follows me out of our room.

The dining hall is only a couple buildings away from our dorm, and it’s still early enough that while they are serving, they aren’t super busy. We’re there before any of our friends too, so dinner will just be Becca and me, which means I won’t have to tell the Clay story again. I don’t doubt that by tomorrow my “unable to keep her mouth shut” roommate will have told everyone we know about last night. She’ll also add a few embellishments I’m sure. Filing all of it away to deal with tomorrow, I try to enjoy the tasteless meatloaf being served tonight. At least it looks better than the enchiladas Becca’s eating.