The party finally started.
Or, more accurately, it had only just started for Andrew and the others, because those kinds of college parties usually kicked off around eight or nine at night, and they had arrived almost three hours later.
After his brief words and the backyard exploding once again into cheers, applause, and raised cups, Andrew eventually ended up inside the house, much more sheltered from the chaos outside.
Outside, there were still more than five hundred people packed between the backyard, the pool area, and the surroundings of the fraternity house, with the music blasting at such an absurd volume it made your head pound.
Inside, the walls helped contain the noise a little, but the atmosphere was still just as wild.
There were fewer people than outside, sure, though even then there were easily more than three hundred spread throughout the main foyer and all the connected rooms.
Courtesy of Tyler, Andrew had practically been set up with a special Beer Pong match.
Andrew had forgotten just how absurdly serious that game could become at parties.
The folding table wasn't just any table. It was a massive custom wooden board, hand-painted with the SAE logo alongside UCLA's blue and gold colors, all covered in a glossy transparent resin coating built to survive alcohol, impacts, and college parties.
The cups were exclusively Red Solo Cups. No regular cups allowed.
Ten on each side.
Arranged in a perfect triangular formation: four in front, then three, two, and finally one.
To Andrew's surprise, the cups weren't even filled with beer.
They all contained water.
When he asked why, thinking maybe he only had to drink water, which honestly would've benefited him, Tyler explained that it was simply a matter of refinement.
The ping pong balls inevitably ended up hitting the floor and being touched by hundreds of hands, so this way nobody had to drink beer filled with germs and dirt from the ground.
The actual beer was kept separately in each player's personal can or cup, and they drank from that whenever the opponent scored.
"How elegant," Steve muttered sarcastically, considering that ten minutes earlier he'd watched several guys vomiting.
The atmosphere around the table felt more like a sporting event than a simple game between college students.
People completely surrounded both sides, shoving each other just to get a better view while creating a constant wall of noise.
Everyone assumed Andrew would be ridiculously good.
After all, if the guy could throw a football fifty-one yards with precision under national television pressure, sinking a tiny ping pong ball into a cup probably wouldn't be much of a challenge.
Tyler raised both arms while looking around with full WWE announcer energy.
"Alright!" he shouted. "Who the hell's brave enough to challenge the best quarterback in the Pac-12 this week?"
The crowd reacted instantly.
"No one!"
"He's broken!"
"That's not fair, he's literally a human sniper!"
"No chance I'm going against him," Andrus muttered from the back with an expression that was way too serious.
For one thing, losing didn't sound fun to him. More importantly, if he ended up having to drink all ten cups, he'd probably get way too drunk. And somehow, some way, his father always found out about everything. He didn't even want to imagine that conversation afterward.
Then a female voice rose above all the others.
"I'll challenge him!"
Several heads turned immediately.
A red-haired girl had just raised her hand while smiling with complete confidence.
The reaction around them was immediate applause and even louder cheering.
"Evelyn accepts the challenge!" Mason announced while pointing at her with excessive enthusiasm.
The crowd erupted again as the girl walked toward the opposite side of the table.
"The captain of the UCLA cheerleaders versus the savior of the football program!" another SAE member shouted from the back.
Evelyn let out a small laugh as she reached her spot.
She had red hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, green eyes, and an almost dangerous level of social confidence in the way she walked and looked around.
She was clearly used to being the center of attention.
"Alright!" Tyler shouted, raising both arms again. "Let the game begin! Opening shot: eye-to-eye!"
"Excuse me?" Andrew asked, turning his head completely confused.
Mason quickly explained the rule. The so-called eye-to-eye was how they decided who started first.
Both players had to throw the ball at the exact same time while maintaining eye contact, without being allowed to look at the cups.
The first person to score won the opening possession.
Andrew stayed silent for a second before slowly turning his head toward Steve.
The look between them said exactly the same thing:
Since when does this game have professional-level rules?
Andrew grabbed one of the ping pong balls.
On the other side of the table, Evelyn raised hers as well, smiling faintly.
Then both of them looked up at the same time.
Andrew held eye contact.
Evelyn did too.
And it quickly became pretty clear to Andrew that she was taking the eye-contact part with suspicious levels of intensity. She even had the slightest smile on her face while staring directly at him.
"Monica!" Rachel immediately whispered from the side while shaking her friend's arm. "She's flirting with him through eye contact!"
"And...?" Monica replied without much reaction as she continued watching the table.
"What do you mean 'and'?" Rachel said, lowering her voice even more. "She's the cheer captain. A redhead, probably a senior, and she obviously wants something with Andrew."
Rachel knew that to become cheer captain at a university like UCLA, you normally had to be at least in your later years.
Monica finally turned her head slightly toward her.
"And what exactly is the problem?" she asked, even though she already knew perfectly well what it was.
Rachel didn't even get the chance to answer.
"Rachel," Monica said, lowering her voice a little so the surrounding noise would help hide the conversation, "I already told you that if you want something with Andrew, eventually you're going to have to do something yourself."
The theory about Andrew having some secret Wednesday girlfriend was starting to seem less and less likely. He denied it far too naturally and didn't give off the impression that he was hiding anything romantic.
Throughout the entire day, the debut, the celebrations, and now the party, not a single girl had shown up approaching him with suspicious confidence or acting like someone who already had some kind of special relationship with him.
So there probably wasn't any secret girlfriend.
In theory, that should've been excellent news for Rachel. But in practice, not so much.
Because Monica was starting to notice something else.
Andrew didn't seem particularly interested in any specific girl.
Not Rachel.
Not Evelyn.
Not really anyone.
He either seemed completely absorbed in his own world, meaning football, or he was absurdly good at hiding any romantic interest.
And that created a pretty significant problem for Rachel. Because if Andrew wasn't going to naturally make the first move, then somebody else would have to.
And Monica knew her friend far too well.
"I can take the initiative," Rachel said while casually tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as if the subject wasn't that important. "Nowadays it's normal for girls to do that."
"Other girls could," Monica replied with complete honesty. "Not you."
"Hey!" Rachel protested, lightly hitting her on the shoulder. "I've had two previous relationships. I know some things."
Monica looked at her for a second, but decided not to say anything else.
Both of Rachel's previous relationships had started exactly the same way: the guys taking all the initiative while Rachel simply reacted.
Neither relationship had been especially serious or long-lasting. There was nothing wrong with that. It just meant Rachel had never really had to pursue someone before.
But now, being the one who had to make the first move would not come naturally to her at all.
Besides, Monica knew Rachel's incredibly idealized view of romance. Almost fairy-tale-like. She expected the guy she liked, in this case, Andrew, to act like some kind of Prince Charming.
And while Rachel had been one of the most popular girls in her entire high school, that didn't mean she had the same social ease other girls seemed to handle almost instinctively.
Girls like Evelyn, for example.
Rachel didn't know how to handle conversations loaded with hidden intentions, play with flirtatious tension, or control social dynamics in her favor. And that was exactly why she was also far more emotionally transparent.
Monica glanced back toward the Beer Pong table for a second.
Andrew had just sunk one of the cups practically without looking, and the crowd reacted as if he had thrown a touchdown pass.
Evelyn laughed while saying something to him from the other side of the table.
When Monica looked back at Rachel, she noticed that she had gone much quieter now, which made her feel slightly concerned.
She let out a small sigh before speaking again, this time in a much softer tone.
"I don't think you need to force anything."
Rachel looked at her, "Excuse me?"
"If you want to know what I would do in your situation," Monica explained, "I think with someone like Andrew, the best strategy for you would actually be the exact opposite."
Rachel frowned slightly, confused, "The opposite?"
"Yes. Let the relationship just grow naturally."
Monica glanced back toward Andrew as she spoke, "Think about what he's actually like."
Monica probably had a much clearer understanding of Andrew than most people there, aside from Steve, Leonard, Haley, and the others closest to him.
After all, she'd spent years watching him on YouTube. She had probably seen well over a hundred videos from his channel over the years.
In a way, it felt like she had grown up watching him.
And now, after spending time around him during the last few days, as well as getting to know a little more about his family and close circle, that impression had only grown stronger.
Andrew didn't seem like someone particularly interested in status, popularity, or social games.
He wasn't like the college guys trying to flirt with twenty different people at the same time. He also didn't seem especially impressed by girls trying to draw attention to themselves.
He seemed far more comfortable around people who simply acted normal around him.
"I think something more…" Monica searched for the right word while looking at Rachel. "Normal would work way better with you."
Rachel stayed silent, listening.
"Remember, you're neighbors, and you're friends with his cousin. You're going to see each other all the time already. You already have basic trust," Monica continued before giving a small smile.
"Honestly, I think Andrew would connect way more with someone who supports him, who's there for him, and who slowly becomes important to him over time rather than someone trying to aggressively impress him."
Rachel lowered her gaze slightly and nodded.
That sounded easier for her than trying to compete in some flirtation game. It was much easier for her to imagine something like what had happened at the supermarket in Texas.
Of course, there was one pretty obvious risk.
If Rachel moved too slowly, if everything became overly comfortable or friendly, she could very easily end up trapped in the infamous friend zone while some other girl who was more direct took advantage.
Especially in a college environment like UCLA, filled with people who were far more socially forward, while Andrew himself was practically treated like the king of campus.
But with Rachel's current social skills, it was probably still her best option.
"Thanks," Rachel said quietly.
Monica nodded and looked back toward the game.
Andrew absolutely destroyed Evelyn at Beer Pong without the slightest bit of mercy.
He didn't miss a single shot.
The crowd around the table reacted like they were watching a professional exhibition while Evelyn kept losing cup after cup in complete disbelief.
As a result, Evelyn ended up having to drink ten consecutive cups while the entire house cheered every successful shot.
Andrew, meanwhile, only had to drink three.
Which was already quite a lot for someone like him, because he had never had much alcohol tolerance. Mainly because he barely drank at all, and you couldn't exactly improve a tolerance you never tested.
That slowly started becoming noticeable. Not in a disastrous way.
He was simply more relaxed.
His constant thoughts about Nebraska, Monday's practices, the playbook, and everything still ahead of him finally started fading beneath the noise of the party, the music, and the beer.
At some point during the night, Andrew ended up sitting in a chair near one of the inner rooms of the house.
There were several empty red cups on the table in front of him, and Steve was sitting across from him, gesturing with absolute seriousness as if they were negotiating a multimillion-dollar company and not slightly drunk at a fraternity party.
"Andrew, if we're seriously going to talk about opening a gym, we need to start planning it right now," Steve said while pointing at him with one finger.
Since the NCAA rules were still absurdly restrictive regarding money, they had started thinking about alternative ways to generate income or future projects.
For Steve, the subject wasn't just some fun dream.
Unlike Andrew, whose family had far more money and stability, Steve was in a somewhat more complicated situation now.
His parents had divorced relatively recently.
His father no longer lived in the family home and was now renting a much smaller, more modest apartment.
And even though Steve had a full athletic scholarship thanks to football, since he had moved in with Andrew, he still had rent and everyday expenses.
Technically, that money was coming out of the college fund his parents had spent years saving for him.
A fund that, in theory, was no longer really necessary because of the scholarship.
But Steve wasn't stupid. He noticed the effort perfectly well.
His father never said anything. Never complained or implied he needed the money.
He still sent Steve what was necessary for rent and a little extra for food as if everything were completely normal.
Andrew nodded slowly as if he were listening to a revolutionary business proposal.
"Heavy and to failure," he declared first, as if he had just defined the entire philosophy of the gym.
Steve nodded immediately, "Obviously."
Andrew then raised another hand, pointing out a second critical detail, "What music are we gonna play?" he asked with complete seriousness.
"Heavy metal," Steve answered instantly.
Andrew nodded again, fully in agreement, "Good."
Then he pointed again with grave seriousness, "Mandatory leg day. Anyone who skips it gets banned."
Steve's eyes widened slightly, "I like that."
"And it has to be a place with no restrictions," Steve added.
Andrew frowned slightly, confused, "Yeah, but what exactly are you talking about?"
"That anyone can come in," Steve explained.
Andrew looked at him as if that were the most logical conclusion in the universe.
"Of course."
Steve then added, "Gym rats too."
Andrew blinked.
The term gym rat was usually used to describe people obsessed with the gym.
People who practically lived lifting weights, talking about protein, posting mirror selfies, and spending more time posing than actually training.
"And why wouldn't they be allowed in?" Andrew asked genuinely confused, as if they had been allowed in from the very beginning of the conversation.
Steve immediately pointed at Andrew, "Exactly! That's the attitude I want! No discrimination."
Andrew frowned, "But you're the one who brought it up."
"I didn't bring it up," Steve replied, shaking his head. "I'm just saying let them in. Same with CrossFit people, they're welcome too."
CrossFit had been created in California back in 2002 and was now extremely popular, with the state becoming the worldwide epicenter of the new sport.
And there was a massive rivalry between traditional gyms and CrossFit culture.
"Of course. Why even mention it?"
"I didn't mention it."
"Yes, you did."
"No."
Andrew stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process the logic.
"Then why are we talking about this?"
Steve raised both hands as if the answer were obvious, "You're the one who keeps talking about it! I'm just saying let them in."
Andrew nodded slowly, "Right. Let them in."
"Exactly."
"Sure."
Both of them started nodding seriously as if they had just reached an incredibly important business agreement.
Until Steve, still nodding, suddenly added, "But not fat ones."
Andrew froze completely while staring at him. The entire inclusive speech had just died in literally two seconds.
"You're still bitter about the Jazmine thing?" Andrew asked as a small mocking smile slowly appeared.
"Of course not," Steve replied way too quickly.
That only made Andrew smile more.
Jazmine had been a sort of almost-girlfriend of Steve's some time ago who had been overweight.
Steve wasn't a superficial person, but when he was drunk, a little hidden resentment sometimes still slipped through.
Especially because she had been the one who dumped him.
Andrew took another small sip before changing the subject, "So what happened with Sam? Didn't she come?"
He remembered Sam was a UCLA law student Steve had been seeing.
Steve rested one arm on the table and shook his head.
"She texted me congratulating me on the debut," he replied. "But she said she was studying."
"I see…" Andrew murmured, placing a hand on his chin as if he were seriously analyzing something.
Then he looked at him.
"You should introduce me to her. Maybe I'll like her."
Steve immediately laughed before punching him lightly in the arm, "Shut up."
They always teased Andrew about having an oddly specific weakness for smart girls.
Especially the kind obsessed with studying and getting good grades.
So naturally, the idea of a highly dedicated law student sounded dangerously close to Andrew's supposed "type."
Right at that moment, they were abruptly pulled out of their incredibly important business conversation.
"There they are!" Leonard said while appearing beside Howard through the crowd.
"It's time," Howard declared solemnly.
"Finally," Steve muttered while standing up from the chair.
Andrew immediately got up as well.
The moment had arrived.
Howard was finally going to make a move on Raquelle, Selena Gomez's friend.
And the stakes were extremely important.
If Howard managed some kind of romantically successful interaction, a dance, a kiss, or making her genuinely laugh, Leonard would have to call him "dad" for an entire month.
If he failed, Howard would be the one calling Leonard dad.
"Follow me," Howard ordered, beginning the operation with great seriousness.
The others followed him through different rooms of the mansion while the music continued shaking the walls.
Until Howard finally stopped.
A few meters away stood Raquelle. She was holding a drink while casually talking to another girl near one of the walls.
Howard swallowed hard.
"Alright…" Andrew said while placing both hands on his shoulders and forcing him to look directly at him. "Are you ready?"
Howard inhaled deeply, "I am."
Andrew raised his voice slightly like a coach before a championship game.
"Do you want this?"
"I WANT IT MORE THAN ANYTHING!" Howard replied while cracking his neck and locking his eyes onto Raquelle.
"¡Then go get it!"
Howard nodded slowly, "I'm gonna get what's mine!"
"That's the attitude, man!" Steve added while giving him a hard slap on the ass.
Howard froze for a second, clearly not expecting that.
He blinked in confusion. But then he kept walking anyway.
Leonard was already doubling over laughing before the interaction had even started.
Everyone watched closely.
Howard walked straight toward Raquelle with confidence: steady steps, straight posture, and a determined look in his eyes.
Raquelle noticed him approaching and looked up at him.
Howard walked directly past her. He looked at her and said in a neutral tone, "Hi."
And kept walking. He didn't even stop.
Raquelle stayed still for a second with a confused expression.
"Hi..." she replied slowly while watching him walk away.
Then she turned back toward her friend and continued the conversation, still slightly confused.
Meanwhile, Howard, who kept walking like nothing had happened, turned around to look back at Andrew and the others.
He proudly raised both thumbs up. Then pointed at himself like he had just executed the smoothest move in UCLA history.
And right when he turned forward again, he almost slammed face-first into a doorframe. He had to dodge it at the last second while stumbling slightly.
"Well… it can improve," Andrew said, not entirely sure what to say.
"Yeah," Steve nodded. "It's not over yet."
"Looks like I have a new son," Leonard said with a grin.
Another opportunity didn't take long to appear.
Andrew and the others started making their way toward the second floor of the fraternity house.
Unlike the first floor and the backyard, which were chaotic public spaces with people constantly moving around, the stairs leading to the second floor were guarded by pledges going through initiation.
Only important active fraternity members or guests considered direct VIPs were allowed upstairs.
Andrew, Justin, Selena, Haley, Rachel, Leonard, and the rest clearly fell into that category.
They were guided through a much quieter hallway until they reached a massive room that had basically turned into a private mini-party away from the main chaos downstairs.
The difference was immediate.
People could actually talk without screaming, there was more space, and far fewer people.
Tyler, the president, even showed up carrying bottles that were very clearly not the same cheap beer being handed out downstairs.
In total, there were probably around twenty-four people there.
Among them were Evelyn and several of the UCLA cheerleaders and, of course, Raquelle.
Which immediately reactivated Howard.
Then someone sitting on one of the couches threw out the suggestion that ended up convincing practically the entire room:
Spin the Bottle.
The classic game where the bottle spins, stops, and whoever it points to has to kiss.
"Yes!"
"I haven't played that since high school!"
"A little childish for a game, but I'll play," Evelyn said while adjusting a strand of hair and sounding completely indifferent.
The ratio was perfect for that kind of game. Slightly more than half were girls, and the rest were guys.
Howard practically looked like he had received a divine miracle.
Because technically, this could give him the perfect opportunity to kiss Raquelle.
As everyone started sitting down in a circle across the huge elegant carpet in the room, Leonard decided to ruin his happiness.
"By the way," he said while pointing at him, "if you get a kiss through Spin the Bottle, it doesn't count for the bet."
Howard immediately turned his head in outrage, "What? Of course it counts!"
"It doesn't," Leonard replied instantly. "That would be luck, not seduction."
Howard opened his mouth to argue, closed it again, and finally sighed in resignation.
"Fine. But it still helps me," he muttered.
If he managed to kiss Raquelle, even through the game, talking to her and flirting afterward would become way easier.
Little by little, everyone finished sitting in a circle. Several girls had already started discreetly glancing toward Andrew in anticipation of the game.
Meanwhile, he was still sitting next to Steve, completely distracted while talking about the gym.
And with Steve trying to convince Justin to invest, the game began.
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