Chapter 10 Olivia
“Don't worry about Dane,” Simon laughs over the noise of the crowd congregating in the basement of our dorm while referring to my wonderful new roommate.
“He won't be around very often. His girlfriend is in a sorority, and he hangs there like a puppy with a bone.” He rolls his eyes, sipping the punch. “Pathetic if you ask me.” He snorts. “He was my roomie last year. Same with Wade. We shared an apartment off campus. God, I miss apartment living. Ugh.” He waves a hand. “You’ll unfortunately run into more ‘Danes’ around campus. They all have a stick up their asses about scholarship students.” He rolls his lips into his mouth and shakes his head.
“Heaven forbid someone is smarter than them or faster than them and earned their place here.”
I make a mental note of why other students seem to hate scholarship students. Is it because they got a full ride for academics? Fuck, I have so much research to look into. Not to mention, I’m supposed to be a scholarship student, too. This will no doubt leave a giant target on my back.
“So, scholarship students? Why would anyone hate them? Isn’t that a part of going to college and saving money?” My gaze volleys around the room.
Men stand in every nook and cranny of the room, cramming into what Simon called the common space. It has couches, a TV, a ping pong table, a pool table, a refrigerator, and a microwave in the kitchenette. It’s a space for us to spread out in and relax while hanging out.
Simon snorts. “You would think. Listen, you’re in the elite club now, Oli. Greenwood is for the best of the best. That guy over there?” He points to a man with a scowl, leaning back into the couch. “His dad’s the Governor.”
I blink. “Of California?”
“Yup! Oh, and that guy,” he points to another on the opposite side of the room, “his daddy is a senator, and his mommy, too. You’re in the land of the rich and famous with parents who’re in all sorts of high places.
That guy?” He points to another man, leaning against the wall.
There’s an aura about him. Something dark and dangerous. “His parents are in the mob.”
I startle, looking the guy over. There’s nothing about him that seems familiar.
Thank God. Not that my father was memorable in the community.
He was a damn menace in the Viotto Crime Family.
The majority of the mob, mafia, or gang leaders have connections with one another so they can conduct business and live in peace.
Pfft. Peace. There’s no such thing between the families running empires. Only war.
“The mob?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“They all come from money,” he says, waving a hand at everyone in the room.
“Except for the scholarship students.” He raises a sharp brow.
“Normally, all the scholarship students are housed in the dorm we’re in.
Just them. Poor things, having to look out the window and see the dismal graveyard.
” He rolls his eyes. “But since we’re all required to live on campus now, it’s gotten a little messed up. So, we get the lovely view, too.”
Half of me thinks I need to go through the information Jonathan left for me. This can’t be a coincidence that I’m here as things are getting fucky in Greenwood.
“So it’s a mix of scholarship students and regular students in our dorms now?” I ask as the RAs in front of the room clear their throats and begin speaking.
“Yup!”
“Good to know,” I mumble, trying not to draw attention to our informative conversation.
“And your roommate? I didn't get a chance to say hello.” I need to find out as much information on everyone I’m going to be living with as I can.
What’s the phrase? Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
Simon smirks. “I can teach you everything you need to know about this place, man. Including the people. That guy over there in the layered collared shirts?” Ah, yeah. I recognized him immediately from the brief glimpse I got of him when he left in a hurry.
Blond shaggy hair. Bright pink, purple, and green collared polo shirts. A heavenly tan anyone would be envious of and a smile to brighten the room.
“Yup. I see him,” I say, clearing my throat.
“That's Wade. He bunks with me. He's the Dean, Amber Whittmore's son.” He rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Snitch?” I surmise.
Simon side-eyes me. “Not from my experience. He’s a nice dude.
The kind to give you the shirt off his back, but he stays to himself.
Volunteers a lot on campus and with the puppies and kitties at the shelter.
It’s nauseating.” He shrugs, returning his attention to the RAs at the front of the common room, standing tall in front of the crowd.
“So, you've been here all four years?” I ask.
“Yup!” Simon hums, swallowing the rest of his red punch. “All four years.”
“You like it here? It seems…” I shrug, trying to fish for answers.
He nods. “It's good enough. Not exactly where I wanted to go, but whatever.
I had no choice. I'm just waiting for graduation. Then my dad expects me to report to the corporate world as his CEO-in-training.” He dramatically sighs.
“So, I'm living it up this year until I have to become an adult.” He wrinkles his nose.
“How about you? Transferring your senior year? Scandalous.”
I snort, clearing my throat. “I decided to move closer to my family. Plus, I got the scholarship. I couldn’t pass that up.” There. Short and sweet. If I leave it at that, he won’t pry.
Simon’s lips pop open like he wants to say something else, but the RA currently speaking at the front of the discussion clears their throat louder than before, gaining all of our attention. With a stern look, he looks around the room at the group of men and me.
“There are important rules to go over! If I could have everyone’s attention!
” He shouts for good measure, his voice echoing through the room.
“Some of you are familiar with what to expect, but we do have several transfers and people returning to dorm life. Rule number one: This is a male dormitory. Not Co-Ed. If you want to bring visitors of the female variety,” he chuckles when several men whoop in the crowd, including Simon.
“Don’t look so surprised, Oli,” he murmurs, bumping his shoulder into mine. “I love variety.”
“Wasn’t even questioning it. No judgment from me.”
Simon’s shoulders relax, and he nods at my approval. “You’re cool people then,” he mutters over the sound of the RA’s voice continuing to go over the rules.
“Your guests must sign themselves in and out and be out by 11 P.M.” He raises a brow, looking through the crowd.
“11 P.M. also happens to be the new curfew put into effect by the school.” Several groans ring through the air.
“I know, I know! But we can’t have you out on the streets after 11.
You must be on campus. New security guards have been hired to enforce the rules.
Not to mention the extra police presence.
And the dorm curfew is 11. If you aren’t inside, you’re locked out!
” The RA holds up his hands in surrender, not looking pleased to have to give out these rules.
Let alone have to enforce them on his fellow classmates.
“Don’t worry,” Simon mumbles. “It won’t stop us. There are ways in and out of the building without getting detected. You’ll never be locked out.”
“Good to know. You’ll show me?” My heart rate kicks up at the prospect of being trapped in this building. What happens if I’m studying late? Or a party commences?
“Oh, a rebel. I like that. Of course. We’re besties now, right?” He wiggles his brows.
“Of course.”
“Quiet hour starts at nine. No loud music. Ya know what? Just respect each other, okay? We’re here to learn and shit.
Just have a good year. If you need me for anything, here’s a flyer with my number on it.
Also, there’s a dorm mixer next Friday evening where we can all get acquainted.
You’re dismissed! Happy move-in day!” He sighs when everyone starts filing out, taking fliers, and heading back to their rooms.
And we do the same, following the flow of the crowd up the basement stairs.
“Ohhhh,” Simon sings, staring down at his phone. “Let’s cut out of the mixer next Friday and go straight to Fight Night.”
I blink several times, staring at an app filled with campus events that aren’t on the regular calendar.
“Who is throwing it? And what is that?”
“Oh! The SlamApp. You need it immediately. Not only is there juicy gossip to read, but there’s events.
Like this…” he trails off, pointing to an event next Friday.
“If you want to feast your eyes on the campus elite going at it with their fists in each other’s faces, this will be the place to be.
” He fans himself several times, turning a pink hue.
“The Coliseum?” My heart squeezes in my chest, but I don’t show the emotions threatening to spill out of me. Ever since I stepped foot back into Greenwood, my walls are shattering, piece by piece, and displaying the feelings I’ve trapped for so long.
Simon and I march up the stairs to the second floor side by side as he continues to tell me everything I need to know.
From what I can tell, there are only three stories and about fifteen suites on each floor.
Who needs a tour guide when you have a Simon?
Which is fine. I need to understand as much as possible before I have to pledge into an all-male frat with my three ex-best friends.
I need a damn vacation.
“I can’t wait to show you around. The Coliseum is some ancient relic in Greenwood that the boys of campus christened as their secret spot for fights.
There’s even a bar there. A few dancers.
It’s a paradise,” Simon gushes as we unlock our front door and step into our darkened dorm space.
Silence rests around us as I eye the darkened shadows of our room.
There’s no movement from my shared bedroom or Simon’s.