12 miles

October 5

10 miles

October 12

Country Music Marathon in Nashville

THE WIN

“Annie, please come with me,” Colton begs, and I keep shaking my head.

It’s Saturday evening after I’ve completed my first twenty-mile run. I haven’t been able to keep a bite of food down all afternoon, and I iced my knee three times and took an extra strength Tylenol. Vanessa is busy hooking up with her boyfriend in our bedroom, so Kelsey let me camp out in hers.

And Colton freaking wants me to go to a DTK party and put in a word for him with Jeremiah, who currently doesn’t want anything to do with me.

“Please?” Kelsey asks me quietly.

With my bedroom being commandeered by Vanessa and Rory, it’s not like I have much else to do.

“Okay,” I finally agree, mostly because Kelsey asked me to. And if I’m being honest, because I miss Jeremiah and want to see how he’s doing.

She opens her closet. “We need to make ourselves hot asap. Colton, get out.”

He grins at her. “I’ll go change my shirt and meet you back here.”

Kelsey and I turn up the music real loud while we get ready, straightening our hair, slipping into various outfits. She dances around the room, sliding lip gloss on, and I limp around like I just had my hip replaced.

“I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight,” I say, popping two more Tylenol. “Maybe I should go back to Franklin. I bet Vanessa and Rory won’t come out of there before noon tomorrow.”

“I bet they don’t come out until he has to drive back to his school…maybe you should stay with Jere tonight.”

I ignore Kelsey and go back to trying on her clothes. I settle on a pair of jeans, a black halter top, heels, and bangles, rocking an arm party.

Kelsey nods at my outfit approvingly. “That’s really cute. Do you like these?” She wiggles her butt in her tight pink shorts, and that starts us laughing. This reminds me of playing dress-up in her mother’s closet when we were little. It’s crazy that we’re all grown up with somewhere to go finally.

“Oh my God, this is nuts.” Kelsey starts telling me about how Iggy talks in her sleep. “This is just a guess, but I think she has a crush on this guy she knows, Jason Bulger.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes in the middle of the night, she starts yelling in her sleep, ‘Bulger! Bulger!’”

I crack up along with her, and by the time Colton comes to pick us up, Kelsey and I are laughing our asses off. The side of Colton’s mouth slips into a smirky smile when he sees how happy she is.

When we arrive at the party, cars are everywhere, so we have to park down the street. But I can still see that the DTK house is huge. A tall fence encircles the property. Or should I say palace? This place is like a castle, with its ivy covering the brick walls and the fancy fountain…with a statue of a mermaid naked from the waist up. Hmm.

We walk in the door and immediately a guy hands us each a plastic cup and a Sharpie to write our name on it. Then we get drinks.

This is nothing like high school parties, where boys jump off the roof into the pool and everybody gets smashed and hangs all over everybody, using alcohol as an excuse for hooking up. Sure, people are drinking here, but they aren’t loud. Well, the beer pong tournament is noisy, but most people are sitting on couches, slowly sipping their drinks or making out in dark doorways. The music isn’t blaring. Who ever thought a frat would be somewhat classy? I use the word somewhat because I’m sipping box wine out of a plastic cup.

Mason, one of the guys who came to the Roadhouse and also Jeremiah’s roommate, hustles up to me. “Annie!” He gives me a noisy kiss on the cheek, making me grin. What a goofball.

“You got enough to drink?” Mason asks.

“I do, thanks. Have you met my friends Kelsey and Colton?” They all shake hands, and another guy who came to the Roadhouse approaches—the doofus who stole the coonskin cap off the wall and wore it. Mason introduces him as Fisher. I’m not sure if that’s his first, last, or nickname (because he’s good at catching bass or something?).

Fisher points at me. “We met you at that restaurant! You’re Jere’s friend.”

I nod, wondering if that’s still the case. Are you still friends if you go from talking every day for nearly two months to sending only two texts in one week?

“Where is Jere?” Kelsey asks, sipping her beer.

“Last I saw him, he was in our library,” Fisher says. “With his ex, Gina.”