Chapter 30 Kai
Kai
“Jesus,” iPhone mutters as he stumbles back into sight. Most of NEX’s outside lights have been turned off because, technically, everyone should be fucking asleep already.
But it’s three A.M. on a Sunday morning and half the frat house is either gathered around the beer pong table for a questionable winner-takes-all match, or squeezed into the natural stone hot tub.
It’s a statement about how much NEX bros like to party.
And how much money flows through their bank accounts.
“What?” I ask as iPhone—fucking Thaddeus—shoulders his way into the frothing water beside me.
“Spent twenty fucking minutes looking for my phone.”
“Found it, didn’t you?” Kruger says, cupping his hand around a blunt as he takes a hit.
“Dude, I was using the phone’s motherfucking light to look for it!”
There’s a beat where everyone—even Austin—just stares at him, then we all burst out laughing.
Soon as I can breathe again, I tap iPhone’s shoulder with the back of my hand. “Listen, thanks for the heads up earlier.”
“No problem, man.” iPhone shakes his head, chuckles. “That shit was wild. Her friend tried to wingman me into making out with her.”
“You what?” My voice is a low growl.
“Relax. She’s not my type. Her friend on the other hand…” iPhone grins. “That diva’s a ten.”
I relax a little. If it wasn’t for iPhone, I wouldn’t have known Haven was at the G’s party last night. Honestly, I didn’t think she’d leave her room after what happened Friday night, but Haven’s always had a tough skin. Guess it’s only gotten tougher the past few years.
Kruger passes iPhone the blunt, but he waves it away. “Don’t think I can get higher.”
“Thad, dude, you can always get higher,” Kruger says.
I’m definitely not high enough. Can still remember way too much of my life, thank you very fucking much.
The gun going off in Haven’s hand.
Rooke’s groan as he came in my mouth.
The jolt of pain when he twisted his hand in my hair.
And that traitorous swell of pride when he called me a—
I reach past iPhone to take the blunt, but before I can grab it, he snatches it from Kruger and hits it hard.
“Everyone knows, bro. Fucking everyone.”
His real name’s out, which means we’re treated to thirty minutes of Thaddeus Rex, Thaddy Daddy, Thaddeus Prime, or whatever the guys can come up with every time iPhone walks into a room.
“Better than iPhone, right?”
“iPhone?” He rolls his eyes so hard I’m shocked they don’t fall out. But when he looks around, I guess the pieces fall into place. “That’s what you guys have been calling me behind my back?”
“And to your face,” Nolan says. “Thaddy’s better, though.”
“That’s my first name, dickhead. Everyone calls me Blake.”
“What, even your folks?” Kruger asks, looking quite genuine about it. Or at least, too stoned to be making a joke.
iPhone—Blake—looks around the hot tub with growing disbelief. “Seriously? I’ve been in this frat as long as Jordan, and none of you fuckers even know my name?”
This sets us all off for another minute or two.
“Don’t be a Saddy Thad—” Austin shrieks when Blake beans him with a beer can.
“I know you told everyone, fuck face!” Blake yells, lunging over the churning water toward Austin. I grab the blunt from him, sticking it in my mouth before me and Kruger manhandle him away from Austin.
We shove him down on the seat beside us hard enough to send a surge of water over the side of the sunken hot tub.
It splashes harmlessly onto the paving, but it washes a few roaches and some beer tops back into the water, and would have submerged my phone if I hadn’t snatched it off the paving just in time.
Thaddy’s phone isn’t as lucky.
“Fuck man, I just got a new one,” he whines, shaking water off the phone.
“Rice it,” Kruger says.
“Probably spend another twenty minutes looking for it,” Blake mutters as he stands to go back inside.
I inspect Kruger’s blunt, but thank God it’s still dry enough to smoke. I give it a few shallow puffs to get it glowing again, then a deep hit. The tobacco leaf burns my throat like J?ger, but I keep it pinned inside my lungs as I hand the blunt back to Kruger.
A violent and painful—but thankfully brief—coughing fit follows.
“Hey, dude, you been to see Ezra yet?” Nolan asks.
I’m not the only one who’s surprised when they realize he’s speaking to me. “What?”
“Your brother.” Nolan knocks Austin’s arms away when the guy taps him with the back of his hand, trying to silence him. “You been to the hospital yet?”
Everyone finds somewhere else to look at—the frothing water, the beer pong match, the black sky.
“Why?” I ask, as flippantly as possible. Might even have pulled it off, if my throat hadn’t suddenly been so tight. Even the chuckle I let out is more pathetic than smug. “So I can kick him when he’s down?”
Nolan laughs, shaking his head. “Jesus, you two are something else.”
“I gotta question,” Kruger says, raising a finger. “Why’s Ezra still in charge? Like, since when do grads run things? The math just isn’t mathing.”
Austin sounds aggressively defensive. “His dad founded this frat back when he was a freshman. That makes Ezra an honorary member.”
I’m staring at nothing, willing the conversation to die a horrific death before I say something I regret. Because Kruger’s right—Ezra graduated last year but he never gave up his seat. And no one’s questioned it—at least, not out loud.
Until now.
Kruger sits with the info for a beat, then clears his throat. “I hear you, man, but isn’t Kai—“
“You want a say on NEX matters, dude?” Nolan cuts in. “Try rushing first.”
“Yo, man, I wasn’t trying to be—“
Thank God my phone vibrates in my hand, giving me an excuse to fade out of the argument starting up. I turned off the sound after Haven sent me that nasty fucking message earlier. Not sure why I bothered. Not like she’ll ever message me again.
But it’s not a message. It’s a new follower notification from some dude on my VibeFeed app.
@inherentvice
I tap on the profile and open the pic. It’s a selfie of a guy wearing a black hoodie with the hood up.
He’s pulling the fabric over his face, obscuring everything but a sliver of his chin and mouth.
Dark blue veins stand proud on the back of his large, slim hand where the sleeve has been pushed up to mid-arm.
Vain fucker probably chose the blue tint on his Patek Phillippe watch face to highlight those veins.
I don’t recognize the watch, the clothing, or what little of the guy I can see peeking out behind the hoodie.
No other jewelry, no tattoos, no background visible.
His account is private, he has no followers, and he’s only following one person.
Me.
What the fuck?
I don’t go in here often since Haven arrived back in Agony Hollow, and even less since I stopped going to the gym. I’m already following everyone in the frat, and I added Kruger the other day.
I’m about to exit the app when I get a new notification.
I open my DMs, frowning at the message.
@inherentvice
There is pleasure in the pathless woods.
I glance around at the guys in the hot tub. Austin and Nolan are talking, Kruger and the rest are zoning out to the drum and bass blaring from the bluetooth speaker.
My eyes slide back to my phone. To the tiny profile pic visible in the DM screen.
From the random message and anonymous profile pic, my first thought is a bot. Until I turn the message over in my blazed mind a few times.
It sounds…literary. And sure enough, when I Google it, a poem by Lord Byron comes up as the first result.
So I have my suspicions, which may or may not be directed by the severe paranoia of the weed I just smoked…but I do my due diligence anyway.
@wanderkind
who is this
@inherentvice
I am nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too?
My jaw clenches. There’s only one fucker I know who could be this annoyingly condescending in a fucking text message.
Anonymous profile. Follows me so he’ll know when I come online. DMs ready to go.
This was planned.
I try to take a screenshot of the app, but it gives me an error. Right, VibeFeed was developed with privacy in mind. Only way I can get evidence of this is with another phone. And I’m not like Blake, with two phones on standby in case one of them dies while I’m doing a trade.
Concerns for later. These messages he’s sending me aren’t the ‘burn after reading’ kind.
@wanderkind
Rooke?
@inherentvice
Would you like it to be?
@wanderkind
BLOCKING
But before I can hit the block button, a new message comes through, and fuck my slow response time because I can’t help but read it.
@inherentvice
One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light
but by making the darkness conscious
I scoff, my lip curling into a sneer.
@wanderkind
JUNG AT 3AM? How sober do u think I am
@inherentvice
I’d love to find out.
Something hot and electric and wrong shoots through me. I sit up so fast, water laps around my chest.
“You a’right, bro?” Kruger croaks.
I mutter a vague, “Yeah,” his way.
But I’m not.
Rooke has no fucking right saying shit like this to me. Private DMs or not, anyone could see this shit and—
Well, it’s not blatant, I guess, but still.
Kruger’s hand appears, and this time there’s a joint in it. I grab it on instinct, cup it, and take a few hits as I try to figure out how to get Rooke off my case.
“I hate texting,” Kruger says. “Voice notes are my jam.”
My eyes dart sideways, but he’s watching the beer pong match through red, slitted eyes. Fuck that. I shift anyway, angling so my phone screen is not in his line of sight.
“Voice notes are fine, but you’ve got two minutes max, then fuck you,” Nolan says. “Gonna be more than two minutes, then call me.”
“Maybe,” Myles says in a sing-song voice, giggling as he plucks at his pedo-looking mustache.
Jesus.
There’s a harsh buzz in my ears, and I realize I’ve smoking the joint like a fucking cigarette.
“Fuck, take this,” I tell Kruger. “Don’t give me more.”
“Good shit, huh?”