“That’s why you haven’t come with us the other times I’ve invited you, isn’t it? Because of Claudia.”
I nodded.
I could feel another invitation coming my way, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I shifted, wrapping my arms around my knees, and I held tight to my jeans.
“You don’t have to, but the girls and I are part of this program called Community Core Services, and a couple other groups on campus teamed up with us for this big flamingo fundraiser. I was just going to one of the meetings. We’ll all be driving around, handing out flyers.” She bit her lip. “You want to come?”
There it was.
I didn’t know what a flamingo fundraiser was, and I had no intention of finding out, but at that moment, two freshman girls from our floor passed us on the sidewalk. They waved, their bags slung over their backs, and I recognized the look in their eyes. Fear.
They were feeling the freshman fear—fear of getting to class, fear about finding friends, fear of being rejected, being alone, having no one else.
I changed my mind.
“I’m in,” I told Avery.
I wouldn’t be afraid. I was going to have friends. I wasn’t going to be alone.
An entire parking lot was filled with vehicles, guys and girls milling around. Some taped banners that said Community Core Services in big bold letters to the sides of trucks, with the phrase Flock Your Neighbors underneath. Pictures of flamingos were everywhere, and large flamingo lawn ornaments had been taped to the tops of the trucks. One truck had a pool in the bed, filled with the same flamingo ornaments and a group of guys wearing swimming trunks. Some had pink flamingo inner tubes around their waists and drinks in hand.
Avery waved to someone, heading across the parking lot. I paused. I had to take in all the pink glory.
“Hey.”
I turned to find Kevin coming toward me.
“What are you doing here?”
I gestured around the lot. “What? And miss this flamingo haven? The real question is why didn’t you invite me first?”
He stared at me, then let out a laugh. “I’ll steal one for you at the end of this.”
“Speaking of, what is this?”
Avery stopped talking to her friends and glanced back over to find me. Seeing Kevin, the corners of her mouth turned down, but she waved. I waved back as she turned to her group again.
“It’s a fundraiser,” Kevin said. “A bunch of us are members of CSC. We’re raising money for the Brain Injury Association of America.” He grunted. “Banks suggested it, of all people.”
I pointed at the nearest flamingo banner. “What’s up with the pink birds?”
“Oh.” He laughed again. “I don’t even see them, I’m so used to them by now. People pay us to ‘flock’ their friends’ front lawns. It’s three dollars a bird. We put ‘em in overnight and leave a sign that says they’ve been flocked. Then we take ’em out the next day. It’s all in fun and for charity. We’re just driving around today to hand out fliers and raise awareness that the next opportunity is coming up.”
He folded his arms over his chest, yawning, as he nodded at me. “How’d you get pulled into it?”
I pointed to Avery. “She asked if I wanted to come. I had no idea what I was signing up for.”
He leaned back against the nearest truck. “It’s all good, but I think we’re taking off pretty soon.”
“PEOPLE!” A girl shouted, clapping her hands and waving her arms near the truck where Avery was standing.
When people didn’t stop talking right away, she put her fingers in her mouth and let out the loudest wolf whistle I’d ever heard.
“People! Fellow CSCers and friends!” People were still talking, so she yelled, “ASSHATS!”
A few girls gasped, but a couple guys laughed. One hollered, his deep baritone booming over the group, “SHUT UP, FUCKERS!”
“Flockers,” the girl corrected him.
“Flockers. That’s what I said.”
“Yeah, right!” came from the back.
Kevin leaned in close and murmured, “That’s Jill. She’s the CSC president and the fucker next to her is her boyfriend, Niall.”
He was being nice, but I wasn’t going to remember their names. Still, trying to be polite, I glanced over my shoulder. I searched for the fucker, but my gaze collided with a pair of hostile eyes I wasn’t expecting.
Maggie stood two trucks down with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me. I stiffened and narrowed my eyes, cutting to the rest of her group. I didn’t have to look far. Marcus Banks stood beside her, his arm holding on to the truck over her head as he spoke to someone behind him. His shoulders shook with laughter.