“Okay, well, have fun and make sure you kick his ass,” I tease her.

“Why don’t you go hang out with Crew?”

Sighing with frustration, I shake my head. “He’s at work again tonight. I’ll get to see him tomorrow after class.”

“Call Kota or Nali to go with you to the bar,” she suggests. “Surely you can use one of their IDs to get in. I mean we all look almost exactly alike. You deserve a break with all the work you’ve been doing lately.”

She kisses my cheek and flits out of the room as I contemplate her idea, thinking maybe I could go and surprise him at work. Yeah, I bet he’ll love that.

Half an hour later, I step out of the shower with plans to pick up Dakota on my way to the bar, agreeing to be her designated driver for the night. I secretly hoped either Nali or Juno would go with us as well, since Dakota is known to get a little wild when she goes out, but they both have to be at work early in the morning, though Nali agreed I could use her license to get in. According to the Half Pipe Pub’s website, it’s open to the general public for lunch and dinner, but after ten o’clock, it becomes a twenty-one-and-over-only establishment.

After I blow dry my hair, I recruit Cheyenne to help me pick something out to wear, and as we stand in my closet, she makes disgruntled noises and scrunches her face in disgust while thumbing through my endless plaid flannels and fleece hoodies.

“Seriously, is this the only nice thing you own?” She holds out the black dress I wore the night of my date with Beckham—the night I first met Crew. “We really need to take you shopping. Sometimes, you dress more like a guy than guys do.”

I snag the hanger out of her hands and return it to the rack. “I dress practical. I’m not trying to impress anyone while digging around in soil or cooking people breakfast.”

“You do want to impress Crew, right? So unless you want to go tonight looking like the farmer girl you are, you’re gonna have to borrow something of mine,” she announces as she stomps out of my room and down the hall into hers.

Minutes later, she returns with a pair of stone-washed skinny jeans, strategically torn and ripped to show a little skin, a fitted navy knit sweater, and an infinity scarf swirled with blue and cream. Throwing it all on my bed, she marches into my closet and snags my knee-high brown riding boots and drops them on the floor.

“There. Stylish and comfortable, but still a little sexy,” she states matter-of-factly, with her hands on her hips. “I’ll fix your hair with the curling wand and do your makeup once you put the sweater on so it doesn’t mess anything up. I can’t let my sister look homely around all of the other girls there flaunting their stuff.”

Who said anything about homely?

And what other girls?

My phone buzzes with a text from Dakota that she’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, and I realize I better get my ass moving. The uneasy feeling Cheyenne’s words elicited pass along without too much thought as I hurriedly slip into the clothes she brought for me and follow her into the bathroom for my express makeover.

After she curls all of my hair, bitching about the ridiculous length the entire time, and applies makeup to my fair-skinned face, Cheyenne moves out from in front of me, giving me the first glimpse of my reflection.

"Holy shit! I look good!" I don’t bother hiding the astonishment in my voice as I closely examine my image in the mirror. My almond-shaped eyes look bluer than normal, framed with charcoal gray liner and dark, thick lashes, and the apples of my cheeks are highlighted with a shimmery glow as long, golden waves cascade over my shoulders. The sweater and jeans fit my body perfectly, enhancing the few curves I do have, and the hipster scarf completes the entire look.

"You look amazing, not good," she retorts smugly, "and you can thank me by covering my dish duties after dinner this week."

I flick her in the center of the forehead, harder than I intend, but it effectively wipes the smirk off her face. "You should try being nice without expecting something in return sometimes. It would really improve your likability around here, sister dearest." Then, before she has a chance to spout off some smart-ass comeback, I chastely kiss the red welt between her brows and leave her standing alone with a puzzled look on her face.

Back in my room, I slide my feet into the leather boots, hiking them over the trim leg of the jeans, and take one last drag from my one-hitter, needing a little something to calm my nervous stomach. I stop by my parents room to let them know where I’m going, and after they gush over how nice I look and how happy they are I’m doing something outside the house, I grab my purse and make a mad dash through the bone-chilling air to my car.

The short trip to my sisters’ apartment is filled with music by Trampled by Turtles, one of my go-to comfort bands, and as soon as I pull into a parking spot, I text Dakota, who barrels out their door nearly instantaneously. Skipping through the freshly fallen snow on the ground, she throws the passenger door open and glides onto the seat, beaming with excitement.

“Eeeep! Look at you, hot little thing! I can’t believe you’re actually going out!” Her squeals are so loud I actually lift my hands to cover my ears. “This is gonna be so much fun, just wait. Oh, before I forget, here’s Nali’s ID,” she continues rambling while fishing the license out of her back pocket, and then hands it to me. “Remember your birthday is July twenty-third, which makes you a Leo, and—”

“Kota,” I cut her off, holding my hands up in the air, “I think I know all my sister’s birthdays, and I’ve memorized your address. It’ll be good, I promise.”

She sighs and pulls out a tube of lipstick from her purse, flipping down the vanity mirror. “Right…I forget you’re the smart, responsible one,” she replies while coating her lips in a frosty pink gloss. “So let’s get going. I bet it’s gonna be packed, and parking will be a bitch.”

Neither of us talk much during the drive—me, because I’m anxious about seeing Crew, and her, because she’s busy texting the entire time—but as soon as we pull into the lot adjacent to the Half Pipe, she tosses her phone inside her purse and grins slyly over at me.

“Let’s party.”

I don’t bother correcting her that I’m not here to party; instead, I simply nod as I climb out of the Crosstek. We meet at the trunk, leaving everything but our IDs and a credit card, then turn to head inside. However, before we make it two steps, a familiar voice calls out from one of the nearby cars.

“Hudson! Hey, Hudson, is that you?!”

I spin around to see who’s calling my name, and I’m shocked to find Beckham getting out of his truck. “Beckham,” my mouth curls in a friendly smile, “what are you doing here?”

He strides over to us, engulfing my thin frame in a tight embrace. “I think that’s the question for you. I thought you didn’t do the bar scene, or was that just your excuse for ending our date early?” His tone is a teasing one as he releases me and playfully tugs on one of my curls.

“No, I still don’t drink, smartass,” I retort, poking him in the abs. “We’re stopping by to see a friend who works here. Oh, you remember my sister, Dakota, right?”

He extends his hand to her as his head bobs up and down. “Of course, I never forget a beautiful girl. It’s nice to see you again, Dakota.” Then, he turns his attention back to me and says, “This is the place where I told you my cousin works. I haven’t been by in a couple of weeks, because of midterms, and I figured I earned a night off. Have you been here before?”

Shaking our heads, Beckham holds the door open for us, and we trade the frigid parking lot for the warm exuberance of the crowded bar. He ushers us inside the warm, lively pub, and I shrug my coat off, handing it to the guy at the door, who greets Beckham with some weird guy handshake. Beckham introduces us, but I don’t catch his name, because I immediately begin to scan the room, looking for Crew, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about Beckham and me walking in together.