Chapter 5 #2
Once they're gone, the kitchen goes quiet again. Different than before, though. Less "we hate each other" and more "we just ran out of conversation."
Weird.
"So…. Network restrictions."
Caleb nods, setting his empty plate in the sink. "I've done some work with content filtering before. We could set up a tiered system, basic protection for everyone, stricter controls for the repeat offenders."
"That could work." My interest in the tech stuff outweighs my usual tendency to keep quiet. "I've got some programs we could change around."
"Now?"
I check the time, 3:24 AM. "Why not? Unless you need to get back to your project."
He shrugs. "It can wait. This is more interesting."
We head to the computer room and work together on the network security upgrades for the next two hours. I'm surprised that Caleb knows his stuff; he's pre-law, not in the computer science program.
He makes smart suggestions, and his coding works well even if he does things a bit differently than I would. We find a good flow: I handle the backend while he focuses on the notification system.
By 5:30 AM, we have a working model ready to use. The new system will block the worst offenders immediately and give warnings for iffy sites. For brothers who keep breaking the rules, like Rex, it'll impose stricter limits that need my approval to access anything beyond simple websites.
"This should work," I twist to crack my back after reviewing the final code. "At least until someone figures out how to use a VPN."
"Which most of these guys won't," Caleb points out. "If they're falling for obvious scams, they're not exactly tech-savvy enough to bypass our system."
"True, we should turn it on now, before everyone wakes up."
With a few keystrokes, the new security protocols go live across the fraternity's network. It's a simple fix that should save me tons of time cleaning up viruses and fixing broken systems.
"Testing time," Caleb says, opening a browser window. He types in a notorious porn site address, and our custom block page immediately appears. "Success."
"Nice work." It's weird how satisfying it is to work with someone who doesn't need hand-holding through every technical concept. Most of the brothers treat technology as magical black boxes that occasionally need to be hit to function correctly.
Caleb looks equally pleased, though he tries to hide it. "Not bad for a middle-of-the-night project."
We sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for a moment, and the early morning light is beginning to filter through the blinds.
"I should probably get some sleep before classes," Caleb says finally, standing and stretching. His shirt rides up slightly, revealing a strip of pale skin that I definitely don't notice.
"Same." Sleep sounds impossible, though. My brain's still buzzing with code and... other things. The unexpected discovery that Caleb Huntington might not be the entitled rich kid I assumed he was, and I like it, has shaken me a little.
We part ways with awkward nods. I'm not quite sure how to categorize what just happened. Not real friendship, certainly not, but maybe a temporary ceasefire?
The fallout begins at breakfast, as I drag myself downstairs after a few hours of fitful sleep to find the kitchen buzzing with confused and irritated guys.
"Dude, the Wi-Fi is totally messed up," Mark complains as soon as he spots me. "I can't access like half the sites I normally use," Rex complains.
"What kind of sites?" The question is innocent enough.
"Just... you know, normal stuff—"
Caleb appears in the doorway right as the excuses start flying. He freezes, coffee mug halfway to his mouth, taking in the bitching and moaning about mysteriously blocked websites.
Our eyes meet mine across the room. His are definitely laughing. So are mine, probably.
He slides into a seat at the far end of the table, quiet, but watching the whole thing unfold like it's the best entertainment he's had all week.
"So wait," Rex says loudly after I've explained the system yet again. "You're saying I can't visit certain sites anymore? That's like, censorship, man."
"No, it's like protection," I correct him. "Unless you want to spend another four hours waiting while I remove ransomware from your laptop?"
Rex has the good sense to look embarrassed. "Well, no, but—"
"It wasn't my decision alone," I say, seizing the opportunity to share the blame. "Caleb helped design the new system."
All eyes turn to Caleb, who glares at me over his coffee mug. "Thanks for throwing me under the bus," he mutters.
"Wait, you two worked together?" Gavin announces to the entire room, grinning like he has a scoop. "Hunter and Huntington actually collaborated? Without anyone forcing them? This is historic! Somebody write this down."
"Brilliant. Can we move on now, or do you need to write a commemorative plaque? It was three in the morning. We were both awake." I don't mention that we'd been getting along before that. "You came in, saw us both working on it. Made sense to stop being idiots and actually collaborate."
"Hunter and Huntington!" Gavin yells suddenly, as if making a revolutionary discovery. "I just realized, you guys even have matching names! Hunter and Huntington. It's like you were destined to be friends!"
The coffee decides now is the perfect time to go down the wrong pipe. Coughing, sputtering, tears in my eyes while Caleb looks like he's mentally planning Gavin's murder.
"We just worked on a project together," Caleb says.
"Exactly. It was a technical collaboration."
A grinning Drew finally speaks up. "Well, I think it's great. This is exactly the kind of frat bonding stuff I've been pushing for. Different members using their strengths to help each other and the house."
"Speaking of brotherhood initiatives," Tyler interjects, "everyone remembers ice skating tonight, right? Mandatory attendance, President's orders."
A chorus of groans meets this announcement, providing a welcome distraction from Gavin's name-based matchmaking attempts.
As the conversation shifts to complaints about forced winter activities, I catch Caleb's eye again.
He offers me a small nod of acknowledgment, equals in suffering, if nothing else.
After breakfast, I retreat to my room before classes for a desperately needed nap.
The whole Caleb thing has me feeling weird, and I'm having trouble figuring out why.
For three years, I've carefully maintained my distance from the fraternity brothers, participating enough to be considered part of the group without forming any real attachments.
It's safer that way; people who don't get close can't leave you behind.
But last night felt different. Working with Caleb was... not unpleasant. Challenging, even stimulating in its way. He thinks differently from me and approaches problems from unexpected angles.
When he laughs, really laughs without that defensive wall up, he looks almost...
I shut down that line of thinking immediately.
One productive late-night session doesn't make a difference.
Caleb Huntington is still a rich kid with daddy issues who got caught doing shady photo manipulation.
The fact that he knows his way around code and can make me laugh doesn't change what he did.