Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Charles
Zeke’s gray stare turns more intense than usual. I can’t work out what causes it, only that when it sharpens on me, I have to look away.
“Why?”
Isn’t that obvious? “To see what you can find out.”
“I doubt they’re going to monologue like a cheesy action villain.”
“You never know.” I pick up his phone from where it’s rested between us. “Do you have an account?”
Zeke hesitates for a second before reaching over and unlocking his phone. His hand brushes mine for barely a fraction of a second, and it’s still enough to send small shivers over my skin. “Should be signed in.”
Right. App. I scroll through until I find it, then navigate to the post. The little “send message” button is right next to Anon’s name, and I click it before pausing.
“Umm … what should we write?”
“Do you mind detailing your whole, entire plan for us?”
I shoot him a glare. “Not helpful.”
“I don’t think this plan is helpful at all.”
I’ll admit it’s a long shot, but it’s not as though he has any better ideas. My thumb taps the side of his phone as I try to work out what to type.
“Hey, Anon,” I mutter as I punch out the words. “I’m Zeke, the president of Sigma Beta Psi. I’ve seen your posts and was hoping we could chat.” I glance over at Zeke for approval.
He waves his hand. “Go nuts.”
After hitting Send, there’s a long, anxious moment where I watch the screen, waiting for something to change. It doesn’t.
“Anticlimactic,” Zeke sniggers.
My lips kick up on one side. “Most things with you are.”
“What?” He makes a choking noise. “We both know that’s total bullshit.”
And even though I could die over teasing him like this, my nerves are thrumming with excitement. “Do we? Do we really know that?”
He groans. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
“That—”
His phone’s obnoxiously loud notification cuts off whatever reply he was about to send my way. Shiiit.
“Was that Anon? What did they write?” he asks, reminding me that—oh, yeah—I have his phone.
I tap on the messages and find the one he’s sent.
Anon7136:
Why?
“They’re being difficult.” I sigh. “Not unlike someone else I know.”
“Damn, Chuck, with the shade today.”
“Who said I was talking about you?” I throw back.
“My ego.” His elbow crosses the center console to nudge me. “You might want to stop with all that flattery, or I’ll get the wrong impression.”
His warm voice unsettles me. The best decision here is to ignore him and focus on these messages, which is already hard enough to do with Zeke’s scent literally flooding me.
Me:
You’re making some bold claims and if any of them are true, I want to look into them
Anon7136:
They’re all true. You’ve had time to look into them and you haven’t. Now your time is up
Me:
I don’t for a second believe you have evidence otherwise you would have gone to the dean already
Anon7136:
How do you know I’m not biding my time? Maybe I just want to fuck with you first
Zeke makes a choking noise in his throat when I read that reply out and snatches his phone back. “That fuck.”
“What are you going to write?”
“I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”
Of course he is. “Maybe I’m wrong here, but I don’t think he’ll talk if you do that.”
“I don’t think he’s planning to talk at all.” Zeke’s fingers fly across the keypad, and after he hits Send, he tilts the phone my way.
Me:
Is that your whole plan? To fuck with us. Because I gotta say, you’re doing a terrible job
Anon7136:
It’s clearly got you scared if you’re messaging me
Me:
I’m not scared of punkass hacky sackers like you
Anon7136:
Fuck off, I’m no geed
Me:
Then who are you?
Anon7136:
Wouldn’t you like to know?
Me:
Well this has been fun. Enjoy your parents’ basement while the rest of us are out here enjoying our lives
Anon7136:
You’ve got no idea, man. How do you know I’m not another fraternity brother done with you not adhering to parameters?
Zeke’s head flies up. “Parameters, again? That can’t be a coincidence, right?”
I lift my hands like I’m surrendering, showing I don’t have my phone. “Now do you believe it wasn’t me?”
“I already did.”
That confession should not make me as happy as it does. I clear my throat. “Right. Well. That was a dead end.”
He hums, eyes going unfocused for a second. “What about this?”
Me:
Parameters, huh? There’s only one person I know who uses that word and you sure as fuck had better not be who I’m thinking
Anon7136:
So what if I am him?
Me:
I’ll kick your ass. Just name a time and place
Anon7136:
I’m scared. Really
Me:
Why are you targeting us, out of all the frats on the row?
Anon7136:
Because I don’t like you. Wasn’t that obvious?
Me:
Why? Did one of my brothers steal your girlfriend? Piss in your beer? Where’s this shit coming from?
Anon7136:
It’s because you’re all talk. You Sigmas expect the shit kickers to do what you tell them without question. That kind of power is dangerous
Me:
Ahh … so that’s why you won’t face me?
“What are you doing?”
Zeke shrugs. “If this dude is as power-hungry as he’s acting, his pride won’t let him walk away from a challenge.”
“There’s no way he’d want you to know who he is.”
“I guess we’ll see.” Zeke nods back to where a reply has come through.
Anon7136:
I’d face you any day of the week
Me:
Put your money where your mouth is
Anon7136:
Fine. I’ll meet you. I’ll let you know who I am.
I don’t give a fuck because it won’t change a thing.
There’s a small meeting room in the dean’s building, right down the end, that’s never used.
I’ll see you there at ten. The back entrance to the building will be unlocked.
Don’t bother bringing any of your frat brothers with you
Zeke sits back in his chair and lets out a long breath. “So, that’s weird, right?”
“Very. I … I don’t like it.”
“Do we have a choice?”
“Of course we have a choice. I mean, the dean’s building? What if we’re caught?”
“And what if Anon is?”
That’s actually a good point. If we can get there early, maybe scope out the place before whoever this person is shows up, we’ll be able to make a plan once we know what we’re dealing with.
“Maybe we get there way early—like eight—and hide out? Then we can figure out who it is without them seeing us.”
He taps his lips as he thinks, and I have to actively work to keep my attention off them. “That could work. Once we know who it is, we can …”
“Go to the dean?”
“And break the golden rule?”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. “We don’t want his attention on anything negative that we’ve done. This isn’t us. If anything, we’re being responsible by coming forward with it.”
“That’s a good point.”
I can’t shake how unsettled I am though. “I still think we’re being set up.”
“Oh, without a doubt,” he agrees, but that doesn’t stop him from texting back.
Me:
You’re on