Chapter 10 Olivia #3
I sigh, drowning in the memories of our youth. An ache forms in my chest. The remnants of what we once had flooding behind my eyes like a movie on repeat. If I could step out of my mind and body and truly become Oliver, I would. No more memories. No more rushes of emotions I’ve buried.
I flick through several more photographs, taking in the scenery and people in front of the lens. More fights. More carnage. More blood. Bloodied fists and missing teeth. All documented on the web for the people on campus to glimpse.
And then, there was him.
My delusional bubble pops into a million pieces at the sight of the bloodied Viking, standing tall with a grin on his face.
His arm is above his head, raised in victory for all to see.
People cheer around the make-shift ring.
Their joy is written on their faces. Mouths open. Hands whooping in excitement.
All for him.
The motherfucker who fucked me in the bathroom and put a tracker in my pocket.
Great. Just wonderful. Everyone I want to avoid is here on campus.
Maniac—Undefeated champion! Who will take him on next? The caption reads as he stares into the camera with a wild gaze.
That’s it. I’ve had too much time to look at half-naked men fighting until they’re unrecognizable. I’ll have to see it in person at some point to document it for my findings, but right now, I need something else.
Beyond the message board promoting unsanctioned events throughout campus. Like parties. Parties. And oh, more parties with multiple comments under each party announcement like a social media site made for Greenwood University only.
Next Saturday Night–Graveyard. Party. BYOB. Snacks. Selves.
Anonymous1: This is it, isn’t it! Omg Amanda!
Amanda Devalle: It is! This is the party of the century every year.
Next Friday Night–After Fight. Party. @ Malic and Wilder’s. Alcohol provided. Snacks included. Just bring you. Interest in joining us for the long term included.
Anonymous: Wait. You’re opening enrollment for your house?
Anonymous3: I heard they haven’t done that in four years!
Anonymous4: Because they killed a guy!
Anonymous5: Liars! He wasn’t killed. He ran away…
The bickering goes on between each anonymous member for pages and pages. But I make notes to investigate the supposed guy who was killed. And why hasn’t the frat opened any spots for incoming freshmen in four years? That means it closes with whoever is at the top.
Ugh.
Frats are weird. But this town is weirder.
I scroll through more posts, finding a confession page. A gossip page. Suspicious activity around campus page. Each having detailed posts about what's happening around campus and who is with who.
Anonymous: Amanda Devalle is officially engaged! Did you see the rock he gave her?
Anonymous 2: Wow. They’ve been together for over a year, and he’s just now giving her a ring? Such a shame…
I sigh, taking in all the information about these people I don’t know. It’d be easier if I had grown up with them, too. But people apparently come from all over to fill the college to capacity.
Eventually, my eyes grow heavy from staring at my phone for way too long. And just as I’m about to close the SlamApp, an anonymous post pops up on the screen.
AnonymousUser: A snake slithers through the forest in borrowed skin. Walk carefully when the sun and moon shine.
Whatever the fuck that means. But I take another note as I reach under my shirt, eager to free myself from the uncomfortable bindings on my chest and start to lift my shirt.
I can’t wait to take a full breath without feeling like an elephant is on my chest. Just two more seconds to freedom and then I can change into my sweatpants and go to sleep.
If only that were in the plans for me tonight when my bedroom door bursts open, bouncing off the drywall.
I rear back, instinctively reaching for the knife nestled between my mattress and box spring, but stop dead when Simon bounces into my room with his phone lighting up his grinning face.
“Oli!” Simon shouts with glee, launching himself onto my bed.
Doesn’t he know what a personal bubble is? Or knocking, for that matter. Maybe I need to invest in a chain lock of some sort. Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll call Jordy and tell him there’s a party and then force him to help me.
Cool. Good to know my roommates will burst into my room without warning, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Well, except for discussing boundaries with him.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to knock as I carefully remove my hand from beneath my shirt.
It’s a good thing I wasn’t topless yet. That would be an awkward conversation on the first night of knowing each other.
‘Oh, hey, by the way, I don’t really have balls. ’
Lesson number one million–never get too comfortable in your surroundings when you’re undercover. Jonathan’s voice rings in my head as I give Simon a tight smile, hiding the exhaustion pulling at my limbs.
I need to shut my eyes for like two seconds. Is that too much to ask?
“Simon,” I say, breathlessly.
“Look.” Simon holds up his phone with a grin, displaying the SlamApp. “This just popped up. Party on Syndicate Strip.”
My nose wrinkles. “Syndicate Strip? Isn’t that a place in Vegas?”
Simon snorts. “Could be. But it's what we call the frat houses here. Or, not so frats.” He leans in slowly. “Remember how I told you some kid was a part of the mob? Well, there’s more of them, and they throw the best fucking parties on the planet. Just don’t get sucked into their initiations, unless you want to join.
They live in the old frat houses. Besides, these guys have a margarita machine and a dog.
Although you shouldn’t touch him, he hates everyone but them.
” Simon wrinkles his nose, rambling more about the frat and how we should go to the party.
I blink several times. “Right. A margarita machine. I don’t know, Si.
I’m tired and…” Attempting to come up with any excuse possible not to be dragged to this.
The last thing I want to do is run into Hux, JJ, or Mack again.
I’m too fried from seeing them earlier. I don’t know if my brain can handle a party filled with rowdy college kids ready to stay up all night.
“Oh, come on, OIi! Please! It’ll be so much fun to experience this with you.
” He bats his eyelashes and puffs out his bottom lip.
“Besides, it’ll give you a glimpse at the gangs of Greenwood in all their glory.
You should see how they try to outdo each other.
It’s like a competition and them begging you to join their ranks or whatever.
I’m neutral, though. I just like the parties.
” He bats his eyelashes a few more times as I weigh my options.
I could tell him I want to go to bed and say forget the party, but what kind of agent would I be? It’s prime time for spying and recon. I can watch everyone in their natural habitat before classes start and before the fight next week.
I lick my lips, watching as the hopeful expression on Simon’s face grows. I’m so going to regret the next words that come out of my mouth.
“Fine. Take me to the party,” I chuckle when he jumps from the bed and throws his fist in the air in victory.
“You won’t regret this, Oli! I swear!”
Yeah, he says that now, but I’m not convinced. I’m either going to be extremely happy getting a glimpse at how the gangs work as frats on campus, or I’m going to regret ever stepping foot into close quarters with them.
I’ve yet to decide which one.