XX
Tori
E ven before Cole started the enrollment process, I’d heard of James Keyingham University. Who hasn’t?
James Keyingham, Harvad, Yale, Brown, Princeton…
When it came to academics, JKU was the place to go—provided you had the money.
But athletics?
Despite its reputation, James Keyingham is small. And as such, the athletic program consists of a men’s basketball team and a woman’s swim team.
As the university has the lowest percentage of scholarship students in the country, it’s clear the focus is not on recruiting members of either team. Then again, I also doubt that any member of either team is here because they want a future in sports.
Which is why the Patrington Center, the home of the Keyingham Wildcats, feels like the academic equivalent of an average guy with a Ferrari. Over-compensating much?
I’ve never been into sports—none of my family has—so I’ve never got caught up in spending evenings in a gym or stadium, watching a team fling around a ball of some sort.
But I have watched enough television to know that for most colleges, come game day, family, friends, and fans flock to the campus. Cars, trucks, and RVs line the roads as the area turns into a sea of college colors.
JKU feels like a college decorated for a film set. Overnight, banners and flags were hung from posts, trees, and buildings. Everyone —even Syn—is wearing a T-shirt or sweater with Keyingham Wildcats on it. The college even has an enclosure with a pair of real wildcats called Tooth and Claw.
But none of that feels sincere. There’s been no real buzz around campus. Until an hour before the Patrington Center opened, there weren’t even extra cars on campus besides the coach’s, the visiting team’s coach and their fans. They did come with cheerleaders, but they’ve been forced to sit in the bleachers with the fans.
Last night, after the emergency meeting for the Elite exec ended, Syn left the room with a twisted smile on his face. Annoyingly, I wasn’t able to hear anything through the doors, and short of yelling that I had no right to be there, I didn’t get anything from the couple who left either.
Instead, I was surprised when Syn merely informed me it was game day tomorrow.
Even Royal didn’t elaborate before he left the house.
Until this morning, I’ve been certain if Syn isn’t going to follow through with his threat of having me be the only cheerleader, that he’d make me wear a wildcat costume and be the mascot.
In fact, he’s not even mentioned a requirement for me to be at the game at all.
“Remind me again why we’re here,” Penny asks me. She looks around the center before moving closer to speak into my ear. “Because I feel like I’m in some weird horror movie.”
Leaning away from her, I angle my body to show her the back of the basketball dress I’m wearing with Davenport on the back.
Penny wraps her hand around my bare upper arm and pulls me back to her. “You know this is girlfriend behavior, right?”
“I explained this earlier.”
“Yes, but we were pregaming in my room, although I’m not sure if I’ve had enough to drink, or not enough.”
No one—not even Royal—told me to come to the game. But even if that hadn’t felt like some kind of trap or test, I still figured spending a couple of hours cheering for Royal would put me in his good graces. He’d helped me out with the exec meeting the other night.
I’m not stupid. He is Syn’s best friend, and I know where his loyalties lie. But after asking him for help, I know I need to commit.
Which is why, this morning, as soon as the shop opened, I took another chunk out of my limited funds to buy this personalized, form-fitting dress. Then I messaged Penny and asked her to come to the game with me.
It had taken until early afternoon, after Penny returned from brunch with her grandmother, for her to respond.
Penny : I’m gonna be there because I’m your friend. But I’m not going to be there sober. I’ve got wine in my room if you want to pregame with me.
I’d had to tell her three times why I was going to the game, and each time, she told me I’d have been better spending that time searching the house.
Maybe she was right.
Time alone in Denali House was limited.
But getting someone inside that house on my side feels equally as important, and Royal is the easiest option. I’m convinced he wouldn’t have helped me with the meeting if I hadn’t asked, and if this doesn’t work like I want, then there’s always the next game.
“And by the way, if anyone ever tells me that a person can wear a sack and still look hot, I’m going to call bullshit,” Penny tells me.
From the direction she’s glaring, I don’t need to look to know she’s got her eyes fixed on Syn, but I look over anyway.
In the last two weeks, even when I’ve been living under the same roof as him, the most casual I’ve ever seen him dressed is a polo shirt and slacks. Tonight, he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a basketball shirt. There’s something so absurd about his look, that I was half expecting the basketball teams to come out and play in tuxedos.
Annoyingly though, I have to disagree with Penny. The look doesn’t suit his personality, but Syn still looks good.
It’s Gemini that looks weirder.
He’s scraped his hair back into a tuft of a ponytail on the top of his head, which he usually does when he leaves the house. But instead of wearing a hoodie and hiding beneath it, he too is in a Wildcats T-shirt.
My attention is ripped away from the two of them when the center erupts into a deafening roar of cheers, clapping hands, and stomping feet.
The Wildcats, led by Royal, are entering the court.
Before I can think twice, I jump onto my seat, ignoring the protests behind me. “Go, Royal!” I scream as loudly as I can, waving the pair of blue and silver pom poms I bought at the same time as the dress.
My call has the desired effect as Royal whips his head in my direction and grins.
“Attention whore,” the girl behind me says as I get down off the seat.
Ignoring her, I keep my focus locked on Royal as I lean closer to Penny. “I think it worked.”
“I think it’s fair to assume you got his attention,” she agrees.
I spend the entire game on my feet, cheering so loudly, that by the end of the game, my throat is sore, and my arms, legs, and feet ache.
This might be my first basketball game, but even I can tell it wasn’t a great one. We won, although it was only by two points. For the most part, I was making sure to watch Royal, even when he didn’t have the ball, but yelling his name as loud as he could when he did.
The Patrington Center starts to empty pretty quickly, but I don’t move until Royal leaves the court. Sinking to my seat, I grab the bottle of water that I’ve barely touched all evening, and down half of it.
“Anyone watching that can see the rumors are true, and yet somehow, every time the NCAA comes to investigate, they say there’s no evidence.”
Turning to Penny, I frown. “What rumors?”
“When there’s a member of the Elite on the team, the Wildcats have never lost a game. If the other team is great, and by all accounts, we should lose, somehow, it’s a draw. But never a loss. And the wins are only by a couple of points. And somehow, they never make it to the Final Four.” Penny glances around, but there’s no one near us anymore. “Apparently, the few times they did lose, the opposing team was riddled with all kinds of bad luck afterwards, like failing drug tests.”
“But they never make the finals?” I take another sip of my drink and lean back in my seat. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“My guess is that the Elite have a reputation of being the best, so even if members are never even going to play another game in their life, they’re still going to want an impeccable playing record on their resumes.” Penny reaches for her purse and pulls out her phone. She reads a message, taps a response, and then turns to me. “While this wasn’t as painful as I expected it to be, my boyfriend and girlfriend are threatening to get started without me—”
“Go,” I say, then laugh.
Penny stands, but before she leaves, she tilts her head. “Didn’t you say you had to go to the dining hall after this?”
“Shit.”
Brushing her pink hair over her shoulder, she leans back to let me pass. “I can’t see Syn,” she says as I start running up the bleachers to the exit.
Today’s game started late afternoon. Even though the dinner service started at the same time as usual, the dining hall is staying open an extra hour for those who attended the game.
Seeing as though I hadn’t seen Syn, Gemini, or Royal eat, and because none of them had shared their dinner plans with me, I’ve got no choice but to assume they could be eating at the dining hall tonight.
Honestly, I doubt it. There’s been talk of a post-game party at the church, where there will be food served. While I doubt they’re going to order a bunch of takeout pizzas because I’ve only ever seen Syn sneer at the idea of fast food, at this point, I won’t be surprised if I hear they have caterers—even at a college party—because I’ve also never seen anyone here drink from a red cup either.
But whether or not they’re serving food there, technically, my instructions are to be at the dining hall, waiting for Syn. Which means, I’ve got to run from one end of campus to the other and almost all the way back again.
Although I’m hoping that Syn won’t even bother heading to the dining hall, I still weave my way through the crowds of people. Outside, it’s just as busy. It’s also cold, but I’m too busy trying to get to Denali House to even bother putting my jacket on.
By the time I get to the house, I’m hot and sweaty, but not nearly as out of breath as I would’ve been before. Some good has clearly come from all this running. I head to the back of the house, but as I’m entering the code on the electronic panel, the door is thrown open.
Standing in front of me is Syn.