“Nothing,” she said, returning to S

“Nothing,” she said, returning to Shepley’s room.
Travis was in the kitchen, humming a random tune
while scrambling eggs. “You sure you don’t want
some?” he asked.
“I’m sure. Thanks, though.”
Shepley and America walked in, and Shepley pulled
two plates from the cabinet, holding them out as Travis
shoveled a pile of steaming eggs onto each one. Shepley
sat the plates on the bar, and he and America sat together,
satisfying the appetite they more than likely worked up the
night before.
“Don’t look at me like that, Shep. I’m sorry, I just don’t
want to go,” America said.
“Baby, the House has a date party twice a year,”
Shepley spoke as he chewed. “It’s a month away. You’ll
have plenty of time to find a dress and do all that girl stuff.”
“I would, Shep…that’s really sweet…but I’m not gonna
know anyone there.”
“A lot of the girls that come don’t know a lot of people
there,” he said, surprised at the rejection.
She slumped in her chair. “The sorority bitches get
invited to those things. They’ll all know each other…it’ll
be weird.”
“C’mon, Mare. Don’t make me go alone.”
“Well…maybe you could find someone to take Abby?”
she said, looking at me, and then to Travis.
Travis raised an eyebrow, and Shepley shook his head.
“Trav doesn’t go to the date parties. It’s something you take
your girlfriend to…and Travis doesn’t…you know.”
America shrugged. “We could set her up with
someone.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “I can hear you, you know.”
America used the face she knew I couldn’t say no to.
“Please, Abby? We’ll find you a nice guy that’s funny and
witty, and you know I’ll make sure he’s hot…I promise you’ll
have a good time! And who knows? Maybe you’ll hit it off.”
Travis threw the pan in the sink. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t
take her.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t do me any favors, Travis.”
“That’s not what I meant, Pidge. Date parties are for the
guys with girlfriends, and it’s common knowledge that I
don’t do the girlfriend-thing. But I won’t have to worry about
you expecting an engagement ring afterward.”
America jutted her lip out. “Pretty please, Abby?”
“Don’t look at me like that!” I complained. “Travis
doesn’t want to go, I don’t want to go…we won’t be much
fun.”
Travis crossed his arms and leaned against the sink. “I
didn’t say I didn’t want to go. I think it’d be fun if the four of
us went,” he shrugged.
Everyone’s eyes focused on me, and I recoiled. “Why
don’t we hang out here?”
America pouted and Shepley leaned forward. “Because
I have to go, Abby. I’m a freshman; I have to make sure
everything’s moving smoothly, everyone has a beer in their
hand, things like that.”