“Hey…” Will said. He leaned forward, his black hair falling into his eyes in a way that made something deep inside Hannah twist with desire. He was bare-chested, his torso lean and sculpted in a way so unlike Hugh’s that they might have been different species. She became aware that she was staring, and forced her gaze up, to his face. He was smiling, but not in a mocking way. “Hey, don’t let them bully you.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” Hannah said, but now she was laughing too, partly at herself, partly out of disbelief that she was really going to do this. But she was going to do it. Deep down she knew it. She could storm out, but only back to her own room, right next door to where they were all drinking—she would be able to hear their mocking laughter and the music from April’s iPod through the wall. And she couldn’t begin her three years at Pelham by establishing herself as a sore loser with no sense of fun.
But it wasn’t just that. A part of her wanted this. She wanted to be as cool and daring and sexy as April, who sprawled across the circle from her with a wicked glint. She wanted to be brash, sardonic Emily sitting opposite, totally unfazed by the fact that she had lost her jumper, skirt, belt, and shoes, was down to a thigh-skimming shirt and not much else.
She wanted to be one of these people, she was one of these people, so she was just going to have to act like it.
“Take it off!” April called again, and with a sick feeling like she was jumping off a cliff, Hannah stood up, pulled off her top, and did an ironic twirl as the others whooped and applauded. Her cheeks were scarlet, her stomach was fluttering, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scowl, so she did both, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest as she took her place in the circle. She kept her gaze determinedly away from Will.
Ryan gave a long, piercing wolf whistle and flung his arm around Emily, who was sitting next to him.
“Here you go,” he said, holding out the joint they’d been passing around. “You’ve earned it.”
“She doesn’t want that soggy disgusting thing,” April said. Her eyes were wide and bright with laughter, and her face was as flushed as Hannah’s—although not with embarrassment. She herself was down to a pleated satin skirt and her bra—but clearly not one that had been bought in a five-pack from M&S. It was a push-up in turquoise silk, embroidered with tiny scarlet and pink butterflies that made her tanned skin glow. “Have a drink, darling.”
She held out the bottle. It was champagne, produced from a seemingly inexhaustible supply in a minifridge that certainly wasn’t standard college equipment. The label was jeweled and art deco, and although Hannah knew nothing about champagne, she strongly suspected it must have been expensive. But it had been passed around the group for too long, and now it was warm and acid in her mouth, the flavor not improved by swigging directly from the bottle, as there were not enough glasses. Hannah shuddered, but she took a long gulp, feeling the fuzzy warmth of the alcohol filtering into her blood, and then she grinned and passed the bottle back to April.
“Come on, Hugh,” April drawled, “you’re up.”
Hugh nodded and began to deal.
With the next hand April lost her skirt, taking it off with a shimmying strip-tease panache that revealed long, tanned legs and a very small turquoise thong, Will lost his jeans, but the following round Hannah realized with a sinking feeling that she was about to lose again.
The hand played out with agonizing slowness, but at the end of it, her prediction proved correct and her two fours lost comprehensively. As she scrambled out of her jeans she ran a surreptitious hand over her calves and was relieved to find them fairly smooth. In the dim light no one would be able to see any stubble. Still, when she sat back down, she folded her legs beneath herself just in case. She felt sick with nerves and excitement. She could not afford to lose again. Stripping to underwear was one thing, it wasn’t that different from going swimming in the end, but getting actually properly naked… could she really do this? From the nervous frisson in the air she could tell she wasn’t the only person having doubts. Hugh had his knees to his chest as if trying to hide his skinny frame and was looking frankly mortified. Emily was chewing her lip. And Will…
As if pulled by a magnet, her eyes flicked once again to Will. But this time he was already looking at her. Their eyes met with a jolt that sent a little electric prickle running over Hannah’s skin, then she tore her gaze away, her cheeks flushed so hot that she was sure someone would notice.