Never Have I Ever

  Never Have I Ever

  An Eastcliff University Romance

  By: Remy Marie

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Blurb

  The Pre-Game

  The Game

  Overtime

  Hitting the Showers

  The Post Game

  A Sneak Peek At The Alpha Nanny

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2020

  Second Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distrusted or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission

  Publisher Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales, products, and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover by: Remy Marie/ Canva

  Cover Image: DepositPhotos

  Blurb

  Never Have I Ever…

  How can a simple game be so complex?

  Never Have I Ever, is a simple drinking game played with a group of people. In the game the players raise a set of fingers and say a truth about their life experiences they have never experienced before. Such as never have ever I gone skiing, been to Hawaii, or been arrested. If another player has experienced this event, they place a finger down, and take a sip of their drink. The game continues until one of the players places all their fingers down.

  This is the game two Eastcliff University students played together. Christina Dennis and Carlos Mendez thought they were going to be playing a simple game. Instead they found themselves admitting truths never spoken before, dealing with complex emotions, and doing the one thing they never ever thought possible, fall for each other.

  The Pre-Game

  This is trash. This is the worst story I’ve beta read. His sentence flow is terrible, he’s missing words and each paragraph begins with the character’s name. It’s like he’s never read a book in his life. Not to mention, his romance plot is so predictable.

  I rubbed my temples trying to focus on revising someone’s work. My only hope to get myself through this disaster of a story was to repeat the amount of money I was making from reading it- one hundred and fifty dollars, one hundred and fifty dollars. Repetition was my savior.

  “Christina! Are you ready to go out?” my friend, Stacy, called out. “CHRISTINA!” My roommate burst through my bedroom door. “It’s nearly nine at night, we need to…and you’re not even dressed.” Her smile flipped from a smile to a frown.

  Judging by her expression, my sweatpants and pink T-shirt were not appropriate for a fraternity party.

  “Please tell me that is not what you’re planning on wearing?” She asked placing her hands on her hips.

  Compared to my comfort-wear, my roommate’s fashion choices screamed for attention. Her hair and makeup were perfect and would make an Ulta model jealous. Her gold sequin mini dress was blinding as the light reflected off to different areas of my bedroom like a disco ball.

  “Please don’t tell me that is what you’re planning on wearing?” I parroted. “Are you at least going to wear a jacket? It’s freezing outside and they’re forecasting snow later.”

  “They will have the heating on in the house. I’ll be fine.” Stacy retorted.

  “You do realize that you’re walking outside from the Uber to get inside the house. Are you planning on running in your stilettos?”

  Stacy gave a casual shrug and walked towards my closet. As she rummaged through my clothes she responded, “If that is what it takes to keep this look, then yes. I plan on hooking up with Todd tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes at the reminder of Todd. He was my friend’s on and off again boyfriend.

  I guess they are back on again.

  Stacy seemed to be in her own world mumbling to herself and pulling out various clothing options.

  “…And… what about you? Are you inviting the one guy you were talking to on Tinder? What was his name... Uh Adam?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  Ugh…Adam.

  My roommate frowned at a black romper she found and shoved the clothing back in the closet with force.

  “Adam was a bust.”

  Just thinking of his dull voice made me want to vomit.

  “He was cute!”

  “We also didn’t have anything in common,” I snapped, folding my arms.

  “That’s not the point of Tinder.” She turned from my closet with a naughty grin and created a sexual gesture, by sliding her index finger through two fingers. My mouth dropped, and I tossed a sock at her. She laughed and resumed her intrusion of my closet.

  “If I’m going to have sex with a guy I just met, I want a deeper connection than just having a mutual appreciation of our bodies.” Stacy rolled her eyes at my answer.

  “You’re in college. These are the best years of your life. Hooking up with cute guys is okay. Stop playing it safe. Life isn’t like any of these romance books you’re always buried in. You’re not doing yourself any favors by convincing yourself otherwise. Find that suitable gentleman after college. Right now, find a hunk of meat and fuck his brains out. Then dump him the next day, or as I like to call the ole hump and dump.”

  “Are you referring to a one-night stand?” My hands grew sweaty from thinking of the dirty deed.

  “Yes, exactly!” she shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Besides, the guy you’re screwing is thinking the same thing. Both parties usually want it. Especially the guys at Gamma Alpha. Hit it and quit it is like their motto there. This frat party is your best chance to score.”

  I bit my bottom lip as I stared at Stacy.

  I’ve had sex with two different partners. Once with my high school boyfriend and the other with a guy I met freshman year. Both experiences were different, but I had a real relationship with them prior to being intimate. That’s what made the sex real. I can’t imagine what sex would be like with someone you just met.

  “Earth to Christina? You’re making that face again. Stop overthinking this. Having a one-night stand is a personal decision. No one is telling you what to decide.”

  Aww hell.

  “Alright.”

  “Is that a yes for coming to a party with me, or for casual sex?”

  “For both.”

  What in the hell am I doing?

  Stacy grinned mischievously.

  “I need about ten minutes then we can go,” I sighed.

  Stacy nodded and then tossed a pink cocktail dress on my bed.

  “You’re wearing this, I’ll see you in the living room.” Stacy left my room as quickly as she entered.

  I sat dazed for a few seconds, questioning if my prior commitment was valid. Part of me wanted to cancel my plans and watch Netflix in bed, but I didn’t want Stacy to be at the party alone. Feeling trapped in my choice, I took a deep breath and finished my beta reading report. Opening my gmail account, I emailed Falloutboy182.

  Dear Falloutboy182,

  Please don’t take any of my comments the wrong way. They may seem harsh, but iron sharpens iron. I think if you correct your grammar and word choice, the sentence flow would improve. As for your romance plot, I thought it was a bit too predictable. Joel and Evelyn’s, meet-cute was fine, but afterwards, they didn’t hit any road blocks. It seems like they met, kissed and then moved to a happy ending. That’s not how romance works. There needs to be road blocks. Road blocks that separate the two characters from falling for each other. Without these obstacles, your story sounds like a fairy tale, that I’m
reading to my niece. Add some road blocks to your plot.

  Sincerely,

  MountaineerGal1993

  I tried my best to not sound like a bitch in my email, but his story needed more work.

  You will never learn to swim if you don’t sink first.

  I frowned when I sent the email. I hate being a bitch to my customers.

  I got up from the desk chair and stared at my roommate’s choice of clothing on my bed.

  I don’t even remember purchasing this dress. Did my mom give it to me as a gift or did Stacy give it to me?

  I shook my head at the thought and then walked to my closet. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a thick pea coat instead. I complemented the outfit with a pair of high-top Nikes’. After dressing, I grabbed my pink beanie and rearranged it over my long blonde hair. Applying lip gloss was the extent of my makeup. Satisfied, I left my room and found my roommate on the couch.

  She was reviewing her eyeshadow job in a pocket mirror after I closed my bedroom door. She snapped it shut, placed it in her purse and frowned at my outfit.

  “You know Christina one of these days, I’m going to make you to wear a dress. You may be as skinny as a rail, but God gifted you that ass. Show it off occasionally.”

  “Do you think I should change?” I asked, studying my outfit, regretting that I did not wearing my roommate’s choice of attire. The more I looked at my outfit, the more nervous I became.

  Shit, what if I was wrong? I’ve never had a one-night stand before. What if my attire was too casual? Maybe I should be wearing a dress.

  “Christina, Hey?” Stacy said, interrupting my internal debate. “When I said you needed to wear a dress, I didn’t mean, what you’re wearing is bad. You look cute. Just go with it. Just consider switching up your style once in a while.”

  “Oh okay,” I frowned as I looked at myself once more.

  “Don’t take my tone as negative. I’m just surprised. You not wearing a skirt or something. Sexy dresses are the standard men-hunting outfits, but what you’re wearing works, in a fashionable geek sense.”

  “Are you sure,” I asked, feeling a dry lump grow in my throat.

  Stacy laughed at me and rolled her eyes. “Yes, girl. You’re beautiful as it is. Any guy would find you attractive with or without the slutty attire. Damn girl, I love you, but sometimes you just need to stick to your guns and not fall in line with what others think. You like to act all independent, but when someone says something opposite, you immediately hop on board without thinking. It was just a comment. Don’t over think it.”

  She got up off the couch, pinched my cheek, and then walked into the kitchen. “By the way, I ordered the Uber. It’s coming in five minutes. Let’s get this party started with some shots!”

  I nodded and followed Stacy. As I watched her prepare the glasses, I couldn’t help but think about what she said before.

  Do I really fall in that trap of conforming to someone’s view point without thinking?

  I tried to think of scenarios but came up blank.

  Who cares anyways? It’s not like I’ve ever done anything bad from their ideas.

  After pouring a shot of tequila in a thin shot glass, she handed me the spirit, then poured one for herself.

  Raising her glass, she sang, “Here’s to the lovers we lost and lovers we gain. Here’s to the life of the party. Let’s hope the shit never ends. Let’s make memories, let’s make friends, but most importantly, let’s get fucked up. To finish this song, let’s praise the alma mater. Loyal and Bold, we are the Mountaineers of Damn WU! Whooo!”

  “Whooo!” I shouted following her motions downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it traveled down my throat. We both slammed down the glasses and smiled at each other.

  “Let’s go to this party,” I grinned.

  As we exited the Uber, I watched Stacy jog to the frat house in her heels. It was a sight to see as she rushed down the sidewalk, like a running giraffe. She had one goal, make it into the house before she froze to death. I couldn’t help but laugh, as I placed my hands in my pockets walking down the sidewalk.

  I told her it would be cold.

  I arrived at the front deck of the house and there were drunken coeds laughing in rocking chairs. Their jolly mood copied the remainder of the party. Mixed in with the loud conversations was country music. A Garth Brooks song shook the walls, and I felt like I already had a headache from the deafening noise. As I walked further into the house, I spied three kegs and a metal basin full of ice and bottled beer. The frat house smelled of barley and hops, and my shoes squeaked from the wet hardwood floor. The entire room was consumed by fraternity brothers as they challenged each other to drinking contests of flip cup and beer pong. They were like carbon copies of each other, wearing a variation of WU t-shirt with a backwards baseball cap. Towards the left was a makeshift dance area with a pair of women and three couples dancing. One of the couples dancing looked to be an inch away from having sex on the dance floor.

  Oh, the affects of alcohol.

  I shuffled my way through the standing crowd to grab a cold beer from the cooler. After one sip, I decided it was time to find my roommate. It didn’t take long to find Stacy. She and Todd were giving the “dance sex couple” a run for their money.

  Figures.

  With a loud whoop, I attracted Stacy’s attention and gave her the silent hand signal letting her know I’ll be sitting on the couch nearby.

  She frowned.

  I knew she was disappointed I was not engaging with others at the party. Honestly, after scanning the room I didn’t find any potential matches. The ones I did find hot seemed to be either engulfed by several other ladies or had their tongues down someone’s throat. I figured the couch would be best for me until the night ends. I shook my head letting her know this was my final decision.

  After an eye roll, she gave me a thumbs up, giving me the agreement, I searched for.

  I plopped down on the worn leather couch and kicked my feet out.

  “Sup Ma,” a frat boy clone called out to me. He was tall and skinny, with blonde hair and had an incomplete beard as if one side of his face didn’t get the memo to start growing hair.

  “Sup Pa,” I replied mocking his greeting. He sat down next to me and placed his arm behind me.

  Oh god, he stenches of weed! It’s like he bathed in it!

  After ogling me in a type of way, that I’m sure a porn star would feel violated, he grinned.

  “After I saw you across the room, I knew I had to sit here and talk to you. You got me feeling a type of way, ma.”

  “In what way? Be specific, I need details.” I mocked.

  He looked surprised by my response and bit his lip. His eyes grew wide and he grinned.

  All he needs is a light bulb above his head.

  “I’m feeling some type of way, because when I look at that fine ass right leg, I think of dinner. When I look to the left, I see lunch, but seriously ma, I’ll be lying if I said, I couldn’t resist snacking in between meals.”

  I snorted loudly at his comments. The embarrassing sound then morphed into a loud laugh.

  Listening to my uncontrollable laughter, his smile disappeared and changed into a frown.

  “What’s so funny?’

  “Nothing, it’s just I haven’t heard such a pick-up line before. It’s new, but terrible. Please don’t use it again.”

  “So…”

  “Nope, I’m stopping you right there Mr. Darcy. It’s going to be a no. Sorry.”

  The frat guy sighed, stood up and walked away. Under his breath, he muttered, “Rugmuncher.”

  I flicked him off and crossed my arms.

  It’s official, I’m over this party.

  Afterwards, four different guys attempted to hit on me while I sat, but each failed in a similar way. Some of them used dated pickup lines, while others were simply blunt on wanting to hook up. I did feel bad for one guy as he struggled to find ways to talk to me. It was cute, but honestly, if you can’t eve
n work up the nerve to complete a sentence in front of me, how are you going to perform in the bedroom?

  If I’m planning on having casual sex tonight, I expect a decent conversation first. Is that too much to ask for? After the fifth denial from an unlikely suitor, I seemed to have created a superficial force field. I was the only one sitting on the couch.

  After another sip of my beer, I smiled to myself. I didn’t mind being alone, it put me in my comfort zone. Having no one to talk to, I pulled out my cell phone and reviewed my usual social apps, of Instagram, Facebook, and HelloFriend. I then moved on to my gmail app. To my surprise, Falloutboy182 answered my previous message. I took a deep breath and opened the e-mail, hoping that I didn’t lose a customer due to my blunt attitude.

  Dear MountaineerGal1993,

  Thank you for your constructive feedback. You are correct about writing being a tool needing to be sharpened constantly. I grew up not reading or writing much and only recently got into the writing hobby when I was in community college. My goal for the next rewrite is to handle the sentence flow and grammar. The comments you made on my story were valid. However, I was confused about your comments on my romance plot. How is the story unrealistic if the characters of Joel and Evelyn fall in love when they first meet? What is wrong if the couple never faces any road blocks on their journey on being together? There are stories of people falling for each other on the first date and never looking back afterwards. Some people believe in fate.

  I’ll reach out to you again when I complete my edits,

  Falloutboy182

  “What romances are you reading Falloutboy?” I questioned out loud after reading his e-mail. I opened a new box to respond to him, when someone called me out.

  “Can you spot me on beer pong?” I looked up to see a brown skinned man. He had an athletic brawny build and could be confused for a linebacker for the university. His muscles were well featured by his dark blue skinny jeans and his untucked red flannel shirt. From his rolled sleeves, I could see that he had a forearm tattoo. Topping off his husky exterior was clean black-haired stubble and a grey beanie covering his hair. His personality screamed different from the cloned frat brothers around me. His entire being drew me in like a vacuum as the world around me disappeared.