Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Charles
I’m in trouble.
My feelings for Zeke have always been an abstract concept.
Definitely lust, a little hero worship, but based around the idea I have of him in my head.
Now that he’s dropping some of that passive guard he’s always kept up around me and referencing things we were never meant to talk about—thanks to my enormous mouth—that obsessive lust is turning into something more tangible.
And I don’t have any level of patience to deal with myself.
Classes are difficult, and it takes all of my mental capacity to keep up with the professor.
Final examinations are in two months, and so far, I’ve managed to scale back on nearly everything.
My presidential duties have been largely passed on to Sam with the new VP stepping into his position, and my volunteering at the courthouse ended a few months ago.
Other than tutoring, I should theoretically be able to turn all of my focus toward nailing these exams. Even though I blitzed the LSATs, I still need final grades to graduate.
And yet … I can’t stop thinking about this morning.
The dumb posts I could ignore, but framing the Sigmas for a prank on our house drags us into it.
I’d been perfectly happy to let Zeke deal with his own mess, but now it’s getting personal, and the further this thing spreads, the more people who know about it, the harder it will be to put the lid on the claims.
I’m not being dramatic when I say that if it gets on the dean’s radar, we’re all fucked.
Every time a fraternity anywhere in the country screws up—and it happens way more frequently than I care to think about—we get inundated with communication from Nationals, and the dean sends through “refreshers” on the rules for operating a fraternity at WHU.
We’re a lot more than party-boy fronts. Rho Kappa Tau is a countrywide organization that grows and nurtures the future leaders of the United States.
It sounds pompous and a little too close to Grampy’s mindset to say it, but our brotherhood matters.
I don’t want to see all the hard work we’ve done here go to waste. For any of us.
Zeke least of all.
The RKT group chat has been blowing up over the prank all morning, and while I’ve been keeping an eye on it, I haven’t stepped in with an opinion yet.
As far as they’re concerned, it was the Sigmas who pranked us, but as of this moment, it doesn’t look like any of them are planning to go against the no-pranking rules I brought in after the disaster last year.
When class winds up, I pull out my phone to call Bailey. It takes longer for him to answer than I would have guessed, and as I’m about to assume he’s in class, he breathlessly answers the phone.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Is this a bad time?”
There’s a pause and what sounds like hushed whispering, and then he’s back. “Nope, you timed it well.”
And considering he’s probably with Chad, I don’t want to know what he means by that. “Have you been in the house chat today?”
“For like a second, then I ignored it.”
“Our brothers are pissed about the prank.”
“When aren’t they?”
“They want to retaliate.”
“So let them.” Bailey seems completely unaffected by this conversation.
“I don’t think that’s the right call.”
“Well, why are you discussing this with me? Shouldn’t Sam be making this decision with you?”
“Usually, yes, but so far you’re the only one in the house who knows about the posts because you’re the only one who has a reason to care about it being kept quiet.”
“True, but … sorry, man, what are you calling for? About them pranking? Let them, don’t let them, I don’t see how that will lead to them finding out about the posts—”
“Because I think they need to.”
There’s a long pause. “Okay, now I’m confused.”
I don’t know how that’s possible when I’m explaining myself so well. Jesus fuck. Okay. I try to gather my scrambled thoughts.
“The way I see it is this. Someone is targeting the Sigmas through slander. This morning, someone targeted us with a prank they’ve tried to pin on another fraternity. That’s not the way things work around here.”
“And …?”
“And whether they’re connected or not, something is obviously going on that we don’t know about. And until we know more … I think it’s time to suggest a truce.”
“A truce?”
“Yes.”
“With the Sigmas?”
Chad says something in the background I miss.
“Chad’s right,” Bailey says. “Sigmas won’t join forces with us if we were the last frat on earth.”
“I’m sure you can find some way to convince your boyfriend to.”
“Hmm, probably. But there are another sixty or so of his brothers, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to offer to blow them all.”
Chad says something again, louder this time, and Bailey laughs.
“You don’t need to,” I hurriedly say. I am not advocating exchanging sex for favors. “We only have to get the ones who live in the house on board. You and Chad can convince Robbie Harrows and Brandon Blakely …”
“There’s no way,” Chad says, and I realize they’ve switched me to speaker. “I love my brothers, but they’re not going to truce with the Kappas because I’m sticking my dick in one.”
There’s a thump, and Chad grunts.
“Sorry, princess, you know I have a point.”
“He does,” Bailey reluctantly agrees. “The only person anyone around here listens to is Zeke.”
Zeke …
“So Chad can—”
“Nope,” Chad cuts me off. “No one convinces Zeke of anything.”
And yet … I did. But after the weirdness of this morning, I was sort of hoping to avoid seeing him for a while. Trust the fucking Sigmas to screw that up for me.
“You do know I’m trying to help out here,” I snap.
“Sure you are, Chuck.”
Urg. I hang up. Zeke gets away with calling me that, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting Chad Doomsen do it.
Fine. I huff and glance at my watch. It’s nearly four, and my last class is about to start, but it’s not like Zeke would still be on campus anyway. My only option is to get through this lecture, then make a decision on what to do while I walk home in the goddamn cold.
I knew the minute I accepted the lift with him that my day would end up there, but instead of insisting I drive myself, I gave in to spending a measly five minutes with him.
Then I remember the way he looked at me, and suddenly, a cold walk home sounds totally worth it.
Until, you know, I have to actually do it.
Winter is over, and the snow has backed off a lot, but when I leave class, it’s cold enough I wouldn’t be surprised if it actually starts snowing again.
Of course. I huddle further into my hoodie and start the trek.
The heavy clouds overhead are making it feel later than it is, and I can’t wait for spring temperatures to break through this dismal weather.
I stomp along the slushy path, ignoring the car that pulls up alongside me until a sudden whistle splits the air.
My heart startles so hard the rest of me jumps in sympathy, and I lose my footing, landing hard on my hip on the path.
“Ouch …” I let out pathetically as footsteps thump toward me.
“Fuck, Chuck, I’m sorry.”
Oh no. My eyes fall closed with a silent sob, and I force myself to pull it together before he reaches me. The hand he rests on my shoulder is gentle.
I hurry to hold up a finger. “You saw nothing, this didn’t happen, we will never speak of it again.”
His pink, pillowy lips press together. “Okay. Does that mean I shouldn’t ask if you’re all right?”
I huff. “Just help me up.”
To Zeke’s credit, he holds in his laugh and helps me to my feet. My hip feels mildly tender, but I don’t think I’m actually injured. It would have been embarrassing and way too erotic if Zeke had to carry me to his car, though it’s probably not too late to pretend …
No. It’s a sad day when I have to remind myself I’m not that desperate.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, eyeing his wet hair. “I thought you said you finished at two thirty today.”
“I, ah … you know … stayed back after class for a swim.”
“Don’t you normally swim in the morning?”
He shrugs. “I felt like something different today.”
I huddle deeper into the hoodie, cursing the wet patch I now have on my pants, which could have been avoided if he’d bothered to let me know he was still around. “Well, thanks for the call to say you were staying back. You knew I finished now. I could have gotten a lift home.”
Zeke’s eyes widen, and his mouth falls like he’s about to say something, but he cuts whatever it is off with a bewildered laugh. “Ah, yeah. My bad.” He scuffs his gym shoes on the path. “Now, do you want to stand around berating me, or are you going to get in the car?”
“Definitely the car option.” While it’s annoying he didn’t think of me to begin with, I’m grateful he’s here now. The car heat is already pumping, and I hold my numb fingers up to the vent. “Thanks,” I say grudgingly when he finally climbs in.
“We’re not mentioning this, remember?”
I almost roll my eyes. Of course not. We don’t mention anything to anyone that could possibly pin us as more than … well, the nothing we are. My confusion from the drive this morning is drying up fast. I read way too much into whatever that was.
“Music?” Zeke asks, reaching for it as he pulls back onto the road.
“Ah, wait. Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“A truce.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he glances at me before facing the road again. “Why?”
“Because of what happened this morning. If we’re in a truce, no one can prank us again and make it look like you guys.”
“But that also means we can’t prank you either.” He sends a grin my way.
“Don’t act like you’d be disappointed by that.”
“Hey, I might not do the actual pranks, but that doesn’t make them any less fun for me.”
“Oh yeah? What fun do you get out of them?”
“Seeing you all worked up and bitching me out until you’re red in the face.”
It’s my turn to be surprised. “That’s … fun for you?”
“Sure.” He glances my way again and must read something on my face. “Wait, that’s not fun for you?”
“Getting angry? No. Of course not.”
“But … I thought … I mean, that’s our thing.”
“Our thing?”
“Yeah. The others have their pranks; we have our … our …”
I have no idea where he’s taking this. “Outright animosity?” I suggest.
Zeke immediately shakes his head. “Our game.”
Game. He thought it was a game. “I take it all back. All those times I said you were the smart, responsible one of your house … all lies.”
“Aw, come on, Chuck.”
“Urg. Stop calling me Chuck.”
He sniggers. “Fine. We never had a thing. All in my head. But the truce still won’t fly with my brothers. Not when they only have a few months left of fun.”
“Then you don’t get our help.”
“Your …” What I’m offering sinks in. “You said you didn’t want to get involved.”
“Well, it looks like I’m going to be anyway.”
“And your schedule?”
I sigh. “It’s time I hand things over to Sam anyway. If I do that, I can focus on exams, and my free time can be spent making sure these accusations never get out.”
“And helping me find out who’s behind them.”
I doubt we’ll ever do that. We just need to stop them. “We can try.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“But it means a truce. I mean it. Maybe … maybe we need to get everyone together. We’ll both tell them we support it and why. Let them know we need to lay low for a bit.”
Zeke chuckles as he turns onto Greek Row. “Fine. I’m in. This is going to be interesting …”
He pulls up out the front of Kappa house and I ignore the staticky air around us and climb out. It’s just as I’m walking up the front path that he calls out to me.
“Charles?” He’s lowered one of the windows and is leaning across the passenger seat to look at me. “You really think I’d hang around school this late for no reason?”
The look he pins me with before driving off, hits deep in my gut. I ignore it. Mostly. But seeing that look directed at me is a hard thing to forget.