Dirty Rush (41 page)

“Nope,” I said, looking out at the passing row of sororities.

It was true. Through all of this, Jack had never once apologized for the way he'd handled himself.

Jane and I didn't say anything for a few blocks. Eventually, she broke it.

“He looked so fat.”

We both broke into hysterical laughter. I mean, it was sad to see him that way, but not that sad. Jack had dug his own grave, and I knew that driving away from him in a car with one of my new best friends was exactly where I needed to be.

W
e
pulled up to the little airport in Churchville at around 11:00, and immediately I saw Meg, the twins, and a few other girls standing around taking selfies.

“Let's do this, bitches,” Meg said as we walked up to them. I was nervous but pretending not to be. A few cute Australian guys taught our training class and showed us how to strap into all the gear. We would each be jumping out of the plane strapped to one of these hot guys, which I was not opposed to. I could tell that Jane was more interested in talking to them than putting on her vest correctly. Her capacity to lure men in any and all situations was amazing to me. Watching her banter with the Australians was actually a good distraction from my nerves.

We all piled into the little plane and up we went.

“Is this a bad idea?” Olivia said to the group of us as we started to reach “diving height” and the plane leveled out. Her eyes were huge and I could tell she was basically dying inside.

“Of course,” Meg shouted back, “but would it be fun if it was a
good
idea?”

“You make a good point, Biggles,” I shouted to Meg, who was sitting right across from me. She smiled and blew me a kiss.

“Love you, my brave little nugget,” she said to me.

“Love you too,” I said, blowing a kiss back.

Seated closest to the hatch, Meg and her partner, Greg,
were the first to jump. Then it would be me, and so on. We all screamed when they started getting set up to go, half out of fear and half because we were running on pure adrenaline. I never thought I'd do this, but here we were. Together.

“Fuck YESSSSS!” Meg screamed, toes hanging over on the ledge. “Fuck yes BZ!!!!! Wooooo!!! We shall steadfastly—”

They jumped out. I could hear her screaming for about a nanosecond before it faded into the windy, bright day. Okay, I was next. I figured if Meg could do it, then so could I. I really did love Meg like my own sister, which was funny for me. I came into this year with one idea of who I was and who my “people” were, and now it was ending and I was surrounded by girls I never could've imagined being this close to. It had been maybe the best and worst year of my life. I would've never met these girls and partied with them and laughed with them if I hadn't decided to take the risk and just jump in. What if I had
never joined BZ
? What if I'd
never jumped
?

“Taylor?” I heard a voice from behind me say. It was Sam, the six-foot man strapped to my back. I hadn't even realized it, but we were now looking out into the sky. It was so blue and beautiful.

“I'm gonna count to three and on the sound of ‘three' you and I are both going to simply rock forward and let the wind take us. Deal?”

I didn't say anything. I just stared out at the sky. Not down, but out. I wasn't scared anymore.

“Taylor?” he said, louder this time.

“Yep, I'm ready!” I shouted. A big grin on my face.

“Alright,
buddy. Here we go.”

I could hear the girls cheering behind me.

One . . .

Two . . .

Three.

F
irst, I have to thank my family: Mom, Dad, Kelly, and Jess. You guys mean everything to me. Next I have to thank my “other family”: Jonah Brown, Meg Landry, Jane Brandt, Olivia Broeder, Stephanie Broeder, Sarah Stevenson, and the rest of my girls—you know who you are and you know how much I love you. Okay, now that that's out of the way . . .

There's no way in hell this book would've been possible without the help of the amazing team behind me. I'd like to thank Tanner Cohen and David Oliver Cohen (without them, there never would've been a book called
Dirty Rush
), Rebecca Martinson, Byrd Leavell (my super-amazing agent who believed in me and my story), Tricia Boczkowski (the best editor on planet Earth) and everyone at Gallery/Simon & Schuster, Madison Wickham, Ryan Young, W. R. Bolen, Veronica Ruckh, Catie Warren and the Total Frat Move and Total Sorority Move families, Lara Schoenhals, Jason Richman, Howie Sanders, David Ludwig, Paige Cohen, Cristi Andrews Cohen, Penelope Ziggy Cohen, Hal Winter Cohen, Marcia Cohen, Stewart Cohen, Jessica Lindsey, Natalie Stevenson-Cohen, Luce Amelia Stevenson-Cohen, Babe Walker, Stephanie Krasnoff, Olivia Wolfe, Kristina Creighton, and Liz and Frank Newman.

And a big shout-out to Colette's mom's dead dog.

TAYLOR BELL
is a Virgo. She's also a third-generation Beta Zeta, her favorite band is the Smiths, and she grew up with a pug named Percy until her mom backed into the poor thing while wine drunk, crushing his sweet little pug skull. So, she's a tough cookie. After having her life turned completely upside down by the girls of BZ, she had no choice but to tell her story.

FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
authors.simonandschuster.com/Taylor-Bell

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Gallery Books

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by David Oliver Cohen and Tanner Cohen

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Gallery Books trade paperback edition January 2015

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.

Interior design by Jaime Putorti

Cover design by Eileen Carey

Cover photograph by iStockPhoto

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bell, Taylor.

 Dirty rush : a novel / Taylor Bell. -- First Gallery Books trade paperback edition.

  pages cm

  ISBN 978-1-4767-7528-9 (paperback) -- ISBN 978-1-4767-7571-5 (ebook)

 I. Title.

 PS3602.E4553D57 2015

 813'.6--dc23

2014027605

ISBN 978-1-4767-7528-9

ISBN 978-1-4767-7571-5 (ebook)