Free Contradictions by Tiffany King Page A

if tough-ass Tressa ever gets scared.”
    “Sure, look around. This party has classic slasher movie written all over it. I expected to find you stuck to a tree with a hatchet through your forehead or something equally macabre,” I teased.
    “Great, so you’re telling me I’d be the first to die?”
    “No. Big-Boob Trish would get it first. The chicks with the huge knockers always go first.”
    Cameo looked directly at my ample bosom without saying another word.
    “I know. I’d be screwed, right?”
    “True story.” She smirked, taking a drink of some concoction from the red Solo cup in her hand. “Now, are you going to tell me where you were?”
    “I was getting some epic pictures, my honey bear,” I said, handing her my phone. I wobbled slightly as my left heel sank an inch into the soft soil near the water’s edge. “Crap, I knew I should have worn those new boots I got a couple weeks ago. These heels are done, and that’s the second time I’ve almost biffed it.”
    “Well, it’s not like any of us were counting on hanging out at the river tonight,” she said disdainfully, pulling on the hem of the MSC sweatshirt she was wearing.
    “Chad’s?” I asked, even though it was obvious by the way she was swimming in it. Chad was a lineman for Maine State’s football team and had the bulk to prove it.
    “Yeah, he was afraid I’d freeze without it.” Cameo acted like wearing the sweatshirt was somehow an inconvenience, but the dreamy look in her eyes said otherwise. Her tone was different from the usual way she talked about her flings. Usually, by the third or fourth date, she was already beginning to look for greener pastures, which was a shame since some of the guys were actually decent. Not like the asshats I dated.
    “What’s up with that? Am I crazy, or am I sensing something here?” I asked.
    “I don’t know yet. I still haven’t decided,” she answered, looking like she was waiting for me to criticize the situation. This was definitely interesting.
    Derek joined us before I could dig any further. Cameo practically sighed with relief. Something was up. She may have thought she was off the hook, but I would pry it out of her later.
    “Where were you?” Derek asked, twisting the cap off his beer.
    “Taking pictures,” Cameo answered for me as she handed my phone to him.
    “Not bad,” Derek said, flipping through the pictures. “Too bad they’re babies. Some of these freshmen have it going on.”
    “I’m not too sure about that. Their junk looked pretty insignificant.” I grinned at him.
    “Hey, don’t mock shrinkage. It’s a real issue that plagues all guys.” He coughed, looking uncomfortable.
    I held up my finger. “Are we talking pinkie size?”
    “Like I would tell you,” Derek replied, swiping at my pinkie. I looked at him balefully. “Fine, it’s worse,” he admitted.
    Worse
, Cameo mouthed to me before we both started laughing.
    “You girls have no sympathy for the plight of a man. How can you without a dick?”
    “Oh, poor little teeny weenie. We’re so sorry,” I cooed.
    Cameo doubled over, laughing.
    “Maybe it’s time for me to find some new friends,” Derek said, making a move to leave.
    “Come on, don’t go. We love you,” I drawled, looping my arm through his.
    “No, you don’t,” he pouted.
    “We do,” Cameo assured him, finally able to talk.
    We were trying to convince him that he was more important to us than our morning coffee, which was the highest compliment we could give him, when the first raft came into view. We all surged to the water’s edge to cheer on the first new fraternity brother. Catcalls erupted from the crowd as everyone scored his shrinkage. He was given a Sigma Pi T-shirt and some sweats. He was grinning ear to ear as he pulled on the clothes. His new fraternity brothers clapped him on the back and handed him drinks. He’d be plastered within an hour.
    The next raft arrived shortly after that, followed by two more. The