“So you're saying, that I don't really like Jordan? That it's more about the fact that he's unattainable?” I bit out, feeling a little insulted by her opinion of me.

Riley shook her head. “No, okay, that came out wrong. What I'm trying to say is the more hopeless the situation, the more you try to change it. And I know you feel something for Jordan, just like I know he has feelings for you. You'd have to be blind not to see it. But you say you're keeping your distance and pushing him away, but are you really? I mean, I see the looks you give each other. You practically orbit around each other. What you both are doing is engaging in nonphysical foreplay.” I swallowed audibly.

Riley raised her eyebrows. “You know I'm right.” Damn her, she probably was right. I hated how perceptive she could be at times.

“Yeah, well that doesn't mean I'm going to do anything about it. I have no desire to be the hussy home wrecker,” I said sharply.

Riley patted my arm. “And that is what makes you better than your sorority sisters and most of the girls we know. Because they would jump at the chance to get with Jordan Levitt, girlfriend or not. But you're better than that. And that's why I love you.” Her compliment took me aback. And it felt really good, if a little undeserved. Because I still thought about doing Jordan every which way to Sunday.

“Love you too, girlie.” I said. We hugged each other for a moment. Which was unusual for us because Riley was not a touchy feely kind of gal. Maybe the whole Damien thing was breaking through her guard a bit. And I for one, was happy to see it.

“Okay, you rest. I'm going to go take a shower and start the waxing process.” Riley shuddered.

“How you can torture yourself like that is beyond me,” she said. I ruffled her hair in a way that I knew annoyed the shit out of her.

“If you need anything, just holler,” I told her before heading down the hall.

Chapter Nine

An hour later I came out of the bathroom, tweezed, shaved and waxed within an inch of my life. My legs were smooth, my skin had been buffed and I had even taken the time to wax down south, leaving only a thin strip of hair. I had conditioned my hair and plucked my eyebrows. Surely, this would pass Gracie's hawkish inspection.

“No wood picks underneath your fingernails?” Riley asked from the couch. She still hadn't moved from the spot where I had left her. She did not wear hangover well.

“Shut it. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice,” I retorted, turning to head into my room, not waiting for my roomie's response.

It was only 4:00. I had four hours until the party. Gracie had sent me a text while I was in the shower saying she and Cira, another one our pledge sisters, would be over around 5:30. She said they'd bring their outfits with them so we could all get dressed together. If there was one thing I had come to learn since joining Chi Delta, was these girls took their parties seriously.

I spent the next hour and half watching TV with Riley, who was finally almost human again. She had stopped groaning and even allowed me to open the blinds. “You want to come to this party tonight?” I asked her.

Riley looked at me like I was crazy. “What part of me throwing up all night and feeling like my brains were being pulled out of my ears, makes you think I want to go anywhere near a party?” she asked.

I laughed. “Just thought I'd ask. Maybe we could have a few Green Eyed Monsters...” Riley jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Okay, maybe the hangover wasn't completely gone. I heard a knock at the door and jumped up to answer it.

Gracie and Cira came in with their arms full of bags. “What is all this stuff?” I asked, leading them back to my bedroom.

“The essentials of course,” Gracie replied, dropping it all on my bed. Cira immediately went to my closet and started rooting through it.

“You have to wear this!” she said, pulling out a my sexy short white denim skirt and dark green tight fitted tank with spaghetti straps.

“Yes! That's perfect!” Gracie enthused as she started sorting my shoes, finally holding up my black, strappy Stella McCartney sandals. “You will look so hot in these! I need to borrow them sometime.” Gracie slipped off her shoe and tried them on.

“Okay, let's do your hair first,” Cira said, pulling me by the shoulders until I was seated at my vanity table.

“I am capable of doing my own hair, you know,” I joked as Cira started separating large sections of my dark hair.

“Just let Cira do it, the girl is a genius,” Gracie said, pulling her own outfit out of one of the bags.

“Cute,” I commented, looking at Gracie's yellow summer dress that would wrap around her chest. Cira plugged in the two inch curling iron and I tried not to groan. I liked wearing my hair straight. I wasn't one to change up my style too much. I knew I looked good how I was.

But my friends were determined, so I gave in. “Now hold still, I don't want to burn you,” Cira warned as she started winding chunks of my hair around the hot iron. The next twenty minutes were punctuated only with Cira's orders for me to move my head this way and that. After she finished with my hair, she started doing my make-up. And I had to admit, it was kind of fun to be pampered. Finally, she declared that she was finished.

I looked in the mirror and I gaped in surprise. I didn't even look like me. My long hair fell in a mass of waves around my shoulders and my make up, while less subtle than I was used to, looked good. Cira had ringed my eyes in liner, giving them a smoky look that made them stand out. She had used more coats of mascara than I typically did, but she had made my normally short eyelashes look much longer.