— 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩.

— 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩. chapter one

series content reminder. alcohol, drugs, & partying · angst · light nsfw/suggestive · college setting · exes · love triangles · swearing & inappropriate language · hazing mentioned · greek life · hookup culture · slow burn · friends to lovers · found family · childhood friends

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chapter one. words: 2.1k

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It was the dead of winter in New England. At their college that was just classified as "medium" in student population, there were two camps of people on a Saturday night.

The first, Brennan assumed, were the type of people that stayed in. They bundled up and couldn't be dragged out of their apartment. He didn't know much about this mindset except that his sister had it for the past month. Well, she claimed to have it these days.

His sister was said to be somewhere across campus with lit candles and a movie playing. Her nine minutes on Earth before he had come along made her "immune to the temptations of youth". That's what Maisy had told him last week, when he asked about her sudden reform from any sort of fun.

Brennan, however, belonged to the second camp. When he told his friends who went to school in the south that he was fifteen minutes from the Canadian border, most of them pictured parkas. The hot basement he frequented beneath the snow, however, had most girls in tube tops and strappy heels. Here on this particular night, he wore a t-shirt with no jacket.

He sat on the high ledge that lined the room. The ex-fraternity property owner had built a wrap-around elevated surface specifically for secret parties hosted by his student renters. The landlord never said this, of course, but the soccer team that lived upstairs happily took the hint during last summer's construction.

People loved to sit on it and look over the party, and Brennan had been perched there for the last few songs. He pulled up a trio of girls who wanted help, and they took selfies beside him. Then, a few with him for their Snapchat stories. He didn't know their names, but they looked as familiar as anyone he saw on the weekends.

Other than that, he was having a moment alone next to one of the speakers. Nothing depressing. He was thinking about his sister, actually, all curled up in her bed as he assumed. And for some reason, he was thinking about her roommate too.

Hardly remembering unlocking the screen, he looked down to the phone in his lap. He had been looking at their texts together, then clicking into the contact picture to try to make it bigger. He didn't think about why, just zooming in. Trying to. It was a picture they'd taken before some high school dance, with only half of Maisy's curls cropped out.

Apparently zooming in didn't work on contact pictures. That, or his phone held a grudge about the can of seltzer someone had poured on it earlier that evening. Brennan had spent a meticulous fifteen minutes with a lysol wipe, but he stuck it in his pocket after it seemed clean.

He was calling her. It was 2 in the morning, and he was calling a girl who was probably volunteering in the morning. While Maisy was a party girl in reform, her best friend Joanna was hardly one at all.

He dove for the "end call" button a few times with his thumb. After his second missed attempt, he brought the phone to his ear and covered the other side of his head with his hand.

"Oh my god, Aaron. How many times do I have to say it...? We're on a break. Stop calling me!"

Joana shouted, before throwing her phone across the bed. She began to scream gibberish into one of the many oddly-shaped throw pillows decorating her friend's bed. The captive this time was jellyfish-shaped. The sheer drama of it all pulled said friend's attention away from her PC screen.

Maisy turned back to see Joana face-planted to her bed, surrounded in various stacks of books, homework, writing utensils, her laptop, and a criminal amount of starburst wrappers. Worst of all, she seemed to be picking up calls from her ex again.

Jo's head rose from the plush jellyfish when her phone buzzed. Before Maisy could say anything, she picked up. But, Joana's eyes were different now, shining a little.

"Thank god, it's you," she said, her tone evening out. "Sorry! I thought you were Aaron."

He didn't know why he called. That's how his brain was working after his night out, at least. He was sure he could find a reason, but alcohol allowed him to care less.

Jo frowned as the phone's speaker picked up on his ambiance. "Where are you? He's not there, is he? "

"Huh?" Brennan said, barely able to hear them. "Aaron's not here."

Brennan hoped that Aaron wasn't calling Jo. Not only because Brennan would be in trouble for calling if they were back together again. Aaron was not supposed to have his phone.

In the class below him, Aaron had been Brennan's soccer teammate since middle school. Brennan didn't mind him, even when he could have a temper on the field. A few times on their travel team in high school, Brennan had defended him in the locker room over an incident.

As far as he knew, Aaron had calmed down since he came to college, at least on the team. He was on the B team as a rookie. Aaron was somewhere in a basement doing pushups, chugging beers, and chanting nonsense as initiation for his promotion to the A team. Jo shouldn't have known all of that, though.

Maisy turned back to her desk upon hearing her brother's voice come through. She shouted over her shoulder: "Call Mom back!"

He hadn't answered Maisy or his mom's texts all day. He had been busy at class and then cleaning and then practice and then the pregame and then being on aux.

"What color are you two wearing tomorrow?" he asked.

By the time he asked this, he had jumped from the perch and made his way outside. He stood near a row of kegs near the fenceline of the house's yard. String lights gave a warm glow in the night, and girls danced atop one of the makeshift stages.

At one of the handmade bars, he saw Aaron serving from behind one of them. If there were rookies, it was their job to serve the parties.

Brennan played around with the taps on the kegs, making sure they were working. Some of his personal responsibilities for the parties were alcohol, music, and general vibes throughout the night.

One of his teammates elbowed him, taunting and asking who he was on the phone with. He mouthed "my sister" and the kid, obviously drunk, started screaming something like "Breannan's sister is a fucking smokeshow".

"You're coming, right Maisy?" he said, louder now than when he was inside.

Two weeks ago, he had asked Maisy to come with him to his team's date party. It was the biggest one of the year because all of the new guys were finally deemed full members of the team's social scene. He told her to bring Jo too if it made her come. Brennan was one of the few guys on the team that could get away with bringing two dates to the event. He organized most of it anyway.

"Yeah, yeah, okay!" his sister called back unenthusiastically. Her eyes were still glued to her computer screen.

Brennan knew this, but Maisy was "so bored" of parties. She had prescribed herself for this semester, but it wasn't a total lie.

One of her first memories was hiding in the pantry during one of the Coffays' almost-weekly get-togethers. Brennan had come to find her and bring her back, but ended up staying in there with her upon seeing his sister distraught. Still, Maisy couldn't ever say no to him.

"Mom came by with dresses for us," she added, "She was thinking emerald."

Jo rolled over so that she was flat on her back. She hadn't even seen the dresses.

As excited as she wanted to be, the anxious cocktail brewing in her stomach was relentless. Despite the fact that she had more work piling up at her sides than she could fathom, her mind was consumed by only one source of stress: Aaron hadn't called yet this week. The thoughts came to her all at once and she let out an audible groan.

Maisy sighed, finally turning around, and picking up Jo's phone.

"Brennan, please, I think it's actually time for a fucking intervention. I really don't think I can take another 3am meltdown--"

Joana snatched the phone back and glared at her friend.

"I'm fine. No meltdown here! I was actually right on my way out!"

She stood up, marched out of Maisy's room, shut the door, and then stood there, unsure where to go. She didn't want to go back to bed -- she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. A waste of time. Jo needed something, anything, to break the thick trance that school had her in at the moment. She was tired of being tired all of the time: tired and bored.

"Hey Brennan, I'm back. Sorry... about that..." Joana laughed, feeling nervous now, as if the two of them were alone in a room together now.

"Your sister's a jerk," she said.

But they both knew, Maisy meant a lot to Jo. She wasn't sure how she'd get by without her. Childhood friends, and practically sisters, they were in each other's lives for good.

"Can I come by? Or, do you want to come over? Or... I don't know. It's late. It's okay if you're tired."

Before responding, Brennan flicked his eyes up at Aaron who was pouring liquor into the shot glasses superglued to an old ski. Four girls huddled around the bar, excited to take them.

One thing no one needed right now was Jo in the same room as a drunk, freshly traumatized Aaron. He didn't know if he would scream at her or fall back into her arms from the stress, but he wasn't a fan of either option. Maisy and him had discussed this.

There was one problem with being Social Chair for the team; he couldn't leave until the party closed down. Especially not with the drunk rookies running around, threatening to get everyone in trouble.

"I'm surprised you're awake," Brennan said.

For the first year of college, when Jo and Maisy were shoved into a dorm, Brennan saw her more often asleep than not. Every time he went to see Maisy, Jo was napping midday or asleep for the night by six.

"Are you gonna make it tomorrow? It starts at 8," he said. He gave a laugh, gentler than the one that the boys usually got. "I know that's past your bedtime."

Jo said something that became inaudible to him under the noise of the chaos he strolled toward. He rounded the corner of the building to the narrow strip of yard where the rookies were letting people in. As one of the new guys caught his eye, Brennan knew he would be roped in.

"Gotta go. Get some sleep. Text me what you like to drink," he said into the phone before shoving it in his pocket.

Next thing he knew, he was pulling an outrageously tall man off of one of his teammates.

"Bro, he was touching my girl," the teammate said, still trying to swing at him.

"He's fucking twenty-six," one of the rookies yelled. "Who let this guy in?"

They couldn't call the cops, like, ever. Not with a bunch of drunk 19-year-olds filling their basement. In situations like this, the team tended to look toward their captains, even off the field. Brennan was a junior captain and social chair. Close enough.

Before Jo could feel her heart sink, the call had ended, and she was alone in the dark hallway. She considered going back into Maisy's room, but she also wanted to give her friend a break.

These days, she could only sleep in Maisy's room or out in the living room. Something about her own room made her feel lonely, as if the door to her bedroom might lock her in permanently.

Joana was sad she didn't have some excuse to spirit her night away, especially with Brennan, but also relieved she might be able to wake up tomorrow somewhat well-rested.

She figured Brennan had better things to do than see her in the middle of the night. He could be talking to one of the gorgeous girls that surrounded him, or getting wasted (though she knew deep down that wasn't his style). She could name a million things that were more fun than spending an evening witnessing her awkwardness.

In an effort to distract herself from thinking too much about it, Jo texted Aaron. She watched for the bubbles to pop up that indicated he was typing, or some sign he had even read her message. But, nothing.

She sighed, threw herself onto the couch, and shut her eyes.

Joana woke up hours later, and it was already morning. Her phone buzzed.

Aaron had replied.