Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Charles
I’m going to graduate. I’m going to become a lawyer. Cornell is my future.
I swallow and glance to the side, where Zeke is sitting, elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely linked together. There’s nothing about him that looks stressed or worried, even though I know how on edge he is.
I wish I could help. Do something to make whatever this meeting is about go away, especially because I get the feeling all we have ahead is bad news. I want to protect Zeke from that. To take all the stress away and leave him feeling as amazing as I do when I’m with him.
I’m going to graduate. I’m going to become a lawyer. Cornell is my future.
The words are playing on a loop in my head, trying to drown out the one thought I shouldn’t be having: But what if I don’t?
It’s not helpful, the empty hope. Turning my back on everything I’ve worked toward means throwing away years of hard work.
It’s a slap in the face to the people who want to be where I am, and, embarrassingly, the part that worries me the most—it means being honest with Grampy and having my father pay that price.
The door to the dean’s office opens.
“Zeke.” Dean Hutchins’s gaze moves to me. “And … Charles? I didn’t realize I had a meeting with you also.”
“You don’t. I’m here with Zeke.”
“Hmm.” He holds out a hand toward his office. “Okay, well, when you’re both ready.”
Zeke glances at me and away again, and even that brief connection gives me deep flutters. I want to take his hand, give him strength, but I know how relieved he is that I’m here at all.
Dean Hutchins closes his door behind us, and we take the seats across the desk from his. I’m nervous, and it’s not even my meeting, so I can’t imagine how Zeke feels.
But when I glance over, he has one ankle resting on his knee and an arm draped over the back of his chair.
Cool as a fucking cucumber.
Can I swoon any harder?
“So, to what do I owe this day of anxiety?” Zeke asks, sounding patient but with an edge I’m not sure anyone but me can catch.
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me,” Dean Hutchins says. His face is tight, not angry, but definitely stern.
“Given Pamela wouldn’t even tell me what the meeting was about, that won’t be possible.”
Dean Hutchins drops a stack of papers in front of Zeke. “These were waiting on my desk for me this morning.”
I lean over to see what they are as Zeke picks them up. Screenshots of the Dirt is the first thing I notice, along with what looks like hospital reports and … a petition?
“What is that?” I ask.
“Reports of hazing, with evidence, and the request to have Sigma Beta Psi removed from operating at West Haven University.”
Zeke’s mouth drops.
“You can’t,” I say, with absolutely no reasoning to back it up. At the end of the day, he can do whatever he likes.
“We have a good relationship, Zeke, and it’s in the school’s best interests to see you go far. I hardly need to point out the publicity that comes with having an Olympian alum. It’s because of that I bothered to call this meeting at all, because as far as I’m concerned, that evidence is damning.”
“It’s all bullshit,” Zeke snaps, and Dean Hutchins’s face turns stern again.
“Any other fraternity and they would have had a cease operation notice on their door first thing this morning.”
“You can’t suspend us over made-up claims.”
“The problem with that is I’m not so sure they’re made up.
” He nods toward the papers Zeke is holding.
“There’s evidence, multiple claims, brothers named as instigators—including yourself.
Whoever is behind this has made it clear that unless you’re suspended, all of this goes to the media, and that’s not a shitstorm I’m prepared to deal with. ”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You’re going to punish people who are innocent to avoid bad publicity?”
“In order to argue that, I’d need proof that Sigma Beta Psi are innocent.” He holds out his hand, and Zeke passes the papers back.
Dean Hutchins flips through until he finds what he’s looking for. “Are you telling me a Brandon Blakely didn’t end up in the hospital after having an asthma attack due to a prank instigated by Rho Kappa Tau in conjunction with one of Sigma house’s pledges?”
Ahh … I look to Zeke to see what we say to that.
The hand in his lap is clenching and unclenching, but his face is still relaxed.
“That was dealt with internally.”
Dean Hutchins sighs. “But it happened?”
“It was an outlier,” I argue.
“Unfortunately, that apparent outlier gives credibility to every one of these claims.”
Zeke’s jaw ticks. “Carter was a problem, and we got rid of him. No one should have even known about that. This is someone trying to mess with us—I can show you the messages from them, asking me to meet them here.”
“Messages can be fabricated.”
I point at the stack of paper. “And so can that.”
Dean Hutchins leans back in his chair. “I’m sorry, Zeke. But I have no option but to suspend the Sigma fraternity from operation until we can investigate these claims.”
Holy …
Fuck.
There’s a reason the number one rule on Greek Row is to not draw attention.
Suspension means that any sorority or fraternity can’t operate.
At all. For an undetermined amount of time.
That means no spring formal, no pranks, no parties, no events, and worst of all, no involvement in rush week, which means no new pledges for next year.
If we don’t do something before we graduate, next year’s Sigmas are fucked. I think of Larken and his unrestrained enthusiasm. Even with my grudge against most guys in that house, there’s no way he deserves that.
“How will you investigate?” I ask since Zeke doesn’t seem to be able to do anything but stare. And after the way he spilled his thoughts yesterday, I know he’s looking forward and dreading what this means for himself and his future career.
“That will remain largely confidential, but first steps will be trying to track some of these people down. I don’t need to point out that not only are these claims serious, some are downright illegal activities that may need to be handed over to police.”
“No.” Zeke scoots forward on his chair. “I understand how it looks, especially with the prank that went bad, but you cannot take these claims as fact. Every single Greek org here has outlawed hazing, and we take it seriously. No one does it. Not even those douchebag Gammas. This is someone with a vendetta against us. You can’t let them ruin a tradition that goes back so far. ”
The dean’s fingers drum out a pattern of taps on his desk. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m sorry. I don’t see a way around this. And unless these claims are proven to be false, I have to take action.”
“So that’s it?” Zeke asks.
“I’m afraid so.”
“There’s nothing I can do? We’re suspended?”
“I’m sorry. Between us, I have nothing against the fraternities here. You do good work. But my hands are tied.”
Zeke jumps up and leaves, and I remember to thank the dean before hurrying after him. He’s already out of the building and crossing the courtyard before I catch up with him.
“Are you okay?”
He turns on me, eyes big and wild like he isn’t sure where he is.
“Fuck no. I have to go back to the house and tell them we’re suspended.
It’s going to crush them. We’re fucked. Do you know how many fraternities are reinstated after being suspended?
And how many of those actually bounce back?
The number is goddamn minuscule.” He drags his hands back through his hair. “Fuck. What do I do?”
I don’t have an answer to that.
“Shit. Robbie is deep into organizing spring formal. Derikson is working with the other Bigs on preparing for next year’s rush.
Without rush, we don’t have pledges. Without new members, the dues have to be raised.
No one in the house can afford that, especially when we can’t throw any parties to cover the gap. ”
“Hey.” I grab Zeke’s arms and force him to look at me. “We’ll figure something out.”
“There’s a month and a half left. That’s it. Then I’m expected to walk away from here and leave them all with it?”
“If that’s what you have to do, then yes.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “I can’t.”
“Then we need to get busy. Standing around feeling sorry for ourselves isn’t going to fix this. Where’s that Sigma spirit?”
“Truthfully, kinda crushed.”
My heart hurts for him. “I really want to give you a hug.”
“Friends hug.” His shoulders bunch up. “I think I need it.”
And that’s all it takes for me to step forward and wrap my arms around him. Even this beaten down, he holds me like I’m somebody, and that makes me more determined than ever to get us through this.
Maybe the smart thing to do for my fraternity and our brotherhood is to distance ourselves from their house. But if someone is coming for one of us, they’re coming for all of us. There’s no guarantee they’ll stop with Sigma, so we need to make sure they don’t have that option.
This witch hunt has gone on long enough.
Zeke suddenly stiffens.
“What’s wrong?”
“The dean knew.”
Apparently that’s important, but I’m lost on what he’s talking about. “Knew what?”
“About the prank. He knew details. That it was organized by you guys, but then our pledge fucked things up.” Zeke shakes his head. “We didn’t tell anyone. Carter went before the executives, who voted him out, and Raymond was sworn to keep the reasons quiet.”
“Bailey told everyone in our house about Carter, but it’s unlikely someone mentioned it. My guys only want to move the hell on from what happened.”
Zeke swears. “So how did it get out?”
“Well, I guess someone let it slip. It might have even been by accident.”
“I can’t get past the ‘parameters’ thing. I mean, how likely is it that anyone in your house would want to set you up?”
“Admittedly, it’s a lot of effort when my brothers just want to get their degrees. And I’m ninety-nine percent sure none of them know you tease me about that word.”
“But my brothers do. And only thirteen of them—including myself—knew about Carter messing with that prank.”
“Directly, maybe.” I shrug. “There’s every chance one of your execs said something. Or even the other pledge who was involved.”
“He’s on thin standing, so I doubt it was him.”
“Unless he’s angry about being black-sheeped after the whole event.
” If I’d been implicated in something like that because I skipped out on supervision early based on my brother’s word things were fine, I’d be pissed.
Would I want to get revenge? Who knows. It seems extreme for someone who’s still a member.
“So if it wasn’t him or you, that leaves eleven.
Assuming it isn’t one of the executives. ”
“Not Chad, Brandon, or Robbie.”
“Are you sure you want to rule them out so quickly?”
Zeke nods. “Zero doubts there.”
“Eight, then. That list isn’t terrible.”
“Except for one problem. How do we narrow down from here?”