The Graham Effect (Campus Diaries, #1)

“Six years. He’s twenty-six. He’s doing his masters.”

I purse my lips, thinking it over. “All right. Based on the available data, I’m between Suitor A and C. I guess it all depends on whether you want a cocky cheerleader or a sweet academic. If it were me, I’d probably take a chance on the academic. It’d be a nice change of pace for you. And I bet he’s going to be good in bed. I have a feeling.”

“Intriguing. All right. Decision made! Suitor C it is.”

At that, she slides off the deck and plops herself into the pool. She instantly submerges, dunking her head in the water before popping up and shaking her ponytail like a wet dog. I get sprayed and start laughing.

“You’re evil,” I accuse, but the cool droplets do feel nice on my face. Actually, screw it. I adjust the strings of my bikini bottoms and then jump into the water too.

It’s heaven. Cold and refreshing, a nice antidote to the thickening humidity and relentless sun.

I float on my back for a few moments before remembering something very important. “Hey, wait, what’s Suitor C’s name? Spill.”

Diana does a slow butterfly stroke toward me. Stalling.

“Is it Carl?”

She releases a defeated sigh. “Percival.”

My jaw drops. “And he’s only twenty-six? What kind of parents do that to their kid? Does he at least go by Percy?”

“He doesn’t love Percy, but maybe I can wear him down.” She starts floating beside me, laughing to herself. “You know what? I don’t even care. I like Percival. He’s the one I want.”

We spend the next hour in the pool, floating and treading water and chatting about nothing. Then we spend another hour getting some sun, until my growling stomach becomes too difficult to ignore.

“Damn, G, keep that thing down.” Diana looks over and grins.

“I can’t help it. I’m starving.”

“Want to order some lunch?”

“I can’t. I’m meeting Will in town. Actually…” I sit up and stick my hand in my bag to search for my phone. “I should check the time.”

“You know how I feel about this Will thing,” Diana chastises. “You have no business hanging out with your ex-boyfriend’s friends.”

“He was my friend first.” I check the screen. “Shit. It’s almost one. I need to start heading out soon. Wanna join us?”

“Nah. I want to run through some of the choreography we learned at practice this morning. You should come back tonight, though. There’s this new reality channel on TV, and they released a roster of shows, and some of them are batshit. It’s amazing.”

“Oh my God, have you watched Fling or Forever? My mom and I are obsessed with it.”

“Yes,” she blurts out, and we proceed to spend about fifteen minutes discussing the best but also the worst dating show on the planet. The kind of crack that makes you feel bad about yourself after you realize you wasted ten hours of your life on it.

Eventually I have to cut us off so I can go inside and change for lunch.



Diana’s not the only one who chides me about remaining close with Case’s friends. I’ve heard it from almost everyone in my life, and their warnings flutter in the back of my mind as I walk into Sue’s, the restaurant where I’m meeting Will Larsen.

In my defense, I really was friends with Will long before I started dating Case. He’s Boston-born like me, and we attended the same high school. Went out a few times too, before we realized you can’t find two more platonic people than us. Like, zero chemistry.

Will is the one who introduced me to Case freshman year, and the one who convinced me to go on a date with him. Having played hockey my entire life, I always shied away from dating hockey players. Mostly because I know what they’re like.

As in, notorious fuckboys.

Hmm, so really, when you think about it…this is all Will’s fault.

“Hey,” I greet him, giving him a hug as he rises from the table.

He smacks a kiss on my cheek, then flashes his perfect white smile. Will has those boy-next-door looks that women can’t resist.

“Hey. Look,” he says, holding up a laminated page. “New menus.”

“Shocker.” This place revamps their menu about once a month. It’s like the owners can’t decide what kind of restaurant they want to be.

“They got rid of all those artisan sandwiches,” Will tells me. “I’m bummed. I liked those.”

“Aw, they were great.” I skim the latest menu, frowning. “There’s a lot of sushi on here now. This alarms me.”

Will snickers. “Maybe they can rename the place Sue’s Sushi.”

“No, it should be Sue’s Super Sushi Shop. Say that five times.”

“And then they could start serving soup and change it to Sue’s Super Sushi and Soup Shop.”

“Oh, even better.”

We continue to scan the menu options. I sort of feel bad for the owners. They’ve been struggling to stay afloat since they opened two years ago. Meanwhile, their biggest competitor, Della’s Diner, always has a line out the door. Della’s has been around forever, though, a beloved landmark in this town. My mom waited tables there when she went to Briar.

Will and I settle on burgers and fries, because that seems safer than ordering sushi from an establishment that only last week called itself an all-day breakfast place.

“You have that charity game this week, right?” Will asks while we wait for our meals.

I nod. “Thursday. Want to come root for us?”

“If I’m not too exhausted from training camp, then definitely.”

“How’s the new team gelling?”

“Oh, perfectly. You know, like oil and water. Blending right up.”

I laugh. “That bad?”

“Worse. Those Eastwood guys all have humongous chips on their shoulders.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s one-sided,” I say dryly.

Will stubbornly shakes his head. “I’m just saying, they’re in our house. They could afford to be nicer.”

“See, that’s the problem. You’re calling it your house. Like they don’t belong.”

“Well, they don’t belong,” he grumbles. But he’s smiling now, a tad rueful. “Point taken. Maybe it’s not one-sided. But anyway, yeah, it’s only the second day of camp and everyone is ready to kill each other. No way we’re even making the playoffs this season, let alone going all the way.”

I reach over and pat his forearm. “Don’t worry. At least one Briar hockey program will win the Frozen Four this year. The women will get it done for you, sweetie.”

“Aw, thanks.”

The waitress comes over with our drinks, and Will takes a long sip of his soda before dropping a bomb.

“Miller’s transferring.”

“What? Since when?”

Miller Shulick is another Briar player, and a damn good one, playing on the second line last year. He’s also a really sweet guy. His only flaw, really, is being best friends with Jordan Trager.

“Since this morning,” Will says glumly. “Coach secured him a spot at Minnesota Duluth.”

“That’s a good program.”

“Yeah. He’ll go from being top ten here to top three there. Definitely an upgrade. It’s just a bummer to see him go. We’re throwing a thing for him Friday night. Barbecue, booze. Maybe sit around the firepit. You down?”

“Yeah, for sure.” I like Miller. I’m sad he’s leaving. “That is a bummer. Why can’t Trager be the one transferring?”

“Because we can’t have nice things.”

I snort. Even Jordan’s teammates can’t stand him.

“Anyway, tell your girls about Miller’s party. The more, the merrier. Is Mya back yet from wherever she’s been jet-setting?”

My roommate, Mya, is my other best friend at school. Her dad is the ambassador to Malta, her mom an heiress to a shipping empire, so Mya spends her summers sunbathing on yachts in the Med or staying in fancy European villas. Which is funny, because as snooty as her parents are, she’s the least pretentious person you’ll ever meet.

“You know her, she doesn’t show up until the day before classes start. Diana’s in town, though.”

“Cool. Bring ’er to the party.”

I lift a brow. “Are you inviting any of the new guys?”

“The fuck do you think?”

“I take that as a no.”