Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Zeke
Thankfully, the weather has warmed up fractionally, and the walls of the dean’s courtyard block us from the unseasonably windy day.
Jenny pulled through with finding these people, and she’s already handing around a petition about letting Sigma house operate again.
I check the time on my phone. Five past.
If the dean doesn’t show, I’m going to be pissed. Christa is filming quick videos with anyone who’ll agree, leaning heavily on the idea that the dean is quick to act based off a fake petition rather than listening to upstanding students such as myself.
Heh.
It’s all shit, and I feel kinda bad when Dean Hutchins isn’t a bad guy, but I’m at the point where I either want to find this asshole starting rumors or be reinstated and put this mess behind me.
Both would be even better.
By quarter past, I’m getting antsy. Charles shows up, looking out of breath, and apologizes for his class running over, but I’m not even annoyed about that. Pamela confirmed the time. Where the hell is the—
The back door opens and Dean Hutchins steps out, lips twisted into a sardonic smile.
“Well, this is a sight.”
I sidestep the person beside me and hurry over to meet him at the stairs. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”
“What’s going on here?”
“These mofos …” I throw a thumb back toward the crowd of students. “Were on that petition demanding Sigma house closes, and none of them actually signed it.”
Dean Hutchins’s lips flatten. “That seems unlikely,” he says, stare traveling the courtyard.
“Maybe, but it’s the truth. Ask any of them, including the presidents from all the other houses who apparently wanted us shut down.”
He rubs a hand over his face, and I can already tell what his answer will be. “This is a small portion of the people who signed that thing—”
“But with even one signature fabricated, that’s enough reasonable doubt to launch an investigation into whether they all are,” Charles says.
The dean doesn’t answer him but turns to me instead. “You’re asking me to take the words of your friends on this. Can you understand why I’d be hesitant to do that?”
“Excuse me,” Christa says, stepping between us. “All of my followers would love to hear the reason why you don’t believe fraternity brothers who are gold-star athletes and philanthropic kings. Going live!”
“No live videos,” the dean snaps. “What are you doing, Zeke?”
“Getting my fraternity back,” I say, staring him dead in the eyes while Christa’s phone is pointed straight at me.
“I told you none of those claims were true. I showed you the messages between me and that anonymous person. I told you what happened when he lured me and Charles to the school after hours and had us locked in so we’d get into shit.
” Then I’m hit with a stroke of genius that also happens to be the truth.
“For the last month or so, this guy has been bullying myself and my brothers—”
“Bullying?” Dean Hutchins recoils. “Come on, Zeke, it’s not bullying if—”
“Actually,” Charles cuts in, “bullying is defined as a targeted pattern of behavior. That’s what this is.”
I fold my arms. “Exactly. And instead of addressing the bullying, you’ve punished the victims.”
He stutters for a moment before deciding Christa is the biggest risk. “Turn that off.”
“Why? My hundreds of thousands of followers only want to see you do the right thing.”
He mouths, “Hundreds of …” before forcing his expression neutral. “No one is being punished. We’re simply investigating the allegations of illegal activity. For which I was well within my right to put a hold on Sigma Beta Psi activities.”
“You’re saying they’re guilty until proven innocent?” Christa asks. “Is that because of the low median income of that house? Or the higher percentage of LGBTQ students?”
It’s obvious when it clicks with him what she’s trying to do, but Dean Hutchins is no longer rattled.
He casually tucks his hands into his pockets—so he doesn’t strangle me, I assume—and says, “West Haven University is now, and always will be, an equal-opportunity facility. We have strong stances against the harassment and discrimination of our students and staff—”
“So prove it,” I challenge. “If you support the kids who carry these sports teams, even when our daddies can’t buy a new science wing or football field, then prove it to us. Reinstate us.”
Instead of giving in, his gaze hardens. “I have an investigation to continue. Enjoy your evening.”
And with that, he turns and walks back inside.
Fuck.
Hopefully it’s given him something to think about, but I’d been hoping that by proving the petition was a piece of shit that he’d see everything else was too.
“You okay?” Christa asks, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah, we just need to regroup, I guess.”
Charles gives my other arm a quick squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We will,” Hugh adds. “It’s bullshit he wouldn’t listen.”
I nod because I’m out of words from reaffirming the same things. Jenny and her sisters are buzzing around the people she’s brought here, making sure we’ve got their signatures and letting them know if we’ll need anything else.
But it feels like we’ve hit another dead end.
“Excuse me,” someone says, pushing their way past. Charles hurries to step aside, bumping into me, and in my annoyance, I turn to snap at the person that they can go around when—
The janitor walks past and climbs the back steps to the dean’s building with my shithead ex-pledge behind him.
Carter.
If I had to put money down on who did it, he would have been my only guess.
He hated Kappas more than any of us.
He always wanted to do more hard-core pranks and laughed at us running Bro-motions night.
He’s the fuckface who sent Brandon to hospital.
All because he found out Chad was dating Bailey.
And I kicked his ass to the curb.
“You’ve got to be fucking with me.”
“What is it?” Charles asks.
I point toward Carter.
“He … works here?” Charles asks.
“I guess.”
“So, you’re saying he has access to this building?”
I grit my teeth. “Looks like it. But we already ruled him out.”
Charles suddenly grabs my arm. “Look at his shoes.”
No way. The dipshit is wearing a brand-new pair of black Ultraboosts. “But … the photos.”
“They can be faked. Staged, even.”
“But Chad saw him there.”
“He didn’t mention a time, though, and if Chad was drinking, who knows how accurate his recount of the night was.”
Shit. I take off after Carter, no plan in mind, and hear footsteps following me.
I push through the back door, eyes taking a second to readjust to the dim hall before ducking left down the short steps and rounding the corner to where the door to the storage cupboard we were locked in is open.
The janitor is in there, so I pass him, checking the rooms in the hall until someone steps out of a room at the same time I’m about to check it, and we almost run headfirst into each other.
My gaze drops straight to his Ultraboosts. Then I glance up to lock eyes with Carter fucking Delaney.
“You dumb piece of shit,” are the first words out of my mouth.
A flicker of surprise crosses his face, and his gaze darts behind me for a second before he smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The posts. Anon7136. Ring any bells?”
He shrugs. “Nope.”
“I know it was you.”
“And I still claim I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It takes everything in me not to slug him right in his dumb face. “Why’d you do it? Because you were kicked out of the frat for being a complete twatknuckle?”
“I’m working.” He tries to get around me, but I step to the side, blocking his path.
“How’d you get all those people to back up your dumb lies?”
His lips twitch, and oh holy frat fucks, I wanna punch him. “What lies?”
“You know, if you’d been a decent human, you never would have been kicked out.”
“And I never would have gone so far if any of you followed your own rules.” He pins me with a look. “How would your brothers feel to know you’re hooking up with Mr. Parameters?”
Prickles of cold shoot along my arms to my fingers. “You leave him out of this.”
“You’re all a joke. Whoever got you shut down did WHU a favor.”
“Suspended. Not shut down. And when I go to the dean and tell him what you did, you’ll be lucky to still be at this school.”
Carter shifts the trash can he’s holding to the other hand, the first crack in his haughtiness showing through. “You can’t prove shit.”
“We don’t need to,” Charles says, reminding me he’s even there. “All we need to do is post the same accusations as you, only unlike your vague posts, we’ll include a name. Yours.”
“There’s no proof—”
“This petition says otherwise.” I start at Jenny’s voice, and when I glance back, all of the presidents are with me. We fill out the hall, and I guess that explains why Carter hasn’t walked away already. “All these people have signed saying the only petition they’ve seen recently was yours.”
I force my face to stay relaxed, even as I try to puzzle that one out. She’s clearly lying, and judging by the way Carter is eyeing her, he doesn’t know whether to call her on it or not. For the first time in weeks, I’m back in control.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” I say. “You’ll remove all posts and write one final one saying you were mistaken about Sigma Beta Psi.
Then you’ll delete your account. Anyone you had posting for or with you will do the same.
You’ll resign from your job here, and you’ll find a way to withdraw the complaint against us—if that means coming forward, you fucking do it, because if we’re not reinstated by the end of the week, we’re coming for you. ”
His face is starting to go splotchy and not in the cute way Charles’s does. “There’s no way I’m doing any of that.”
“Okay,” Charles says, lifting his phone. “I’ll go first. Carter Delaney not only plotted with another Greek house against his own fraternity members but actively tampered with a prank in order to cause injury or illness.”
Carter shakes his head, slow and then gradually faster. “There’s no proof.”
“He doesn’t need it.” Christa moves to Charles’s other side. “We’re going to take every post and every claim you made against the Sigmas and turn it against you. ‘Carter Delaney attacked me at a party,’” she quotes.
“He waterboarded me,” Hugh says, moving beside Jenny.
“He forced me to drink beer until I threw up,” Eric says.
One by one, the presidents move until we have him completely surrounded.
I stare him down. “Still wanna play this little game? Because I can guarantee you once some of those posts hit the Dirt, you’ll have police at your door with questions.”
And even though I’m talking out of my ass, I can read him. He’s panicked. Truthfully, we don’t have the type of evidence we need to take this to the dean, but we could get it. It’d take time, but now I’m sure it’s him, I’d follow him all day, every day, until he slipped up.
Carter’s jaw ticks.
I lean in. “You have exactly ten seconds to admit what you did, or I go to the dean. I don’t think I need to remind you that the football team has very clear rules on code of conduct, and without football, you have no scholarship.”
His nostrils flare, and a surge of satisfaction hits me.
I take a leaf out of Christa’s book and pull out my phone. “I’m recording you admitting to scheming against Sigma Beta Psi in order to have the fraternity shut down. Everything you posted about us, all the claims of hazing were completely fabricated. Do you disagree?”
He doesn’t answer. So I start to count backward from ten.
“Easy way or hard way,” Charles says.
“Go to hell.”
“Enjoy finding another college who’ll take you.” But as I go to turn away, he moves.
“Stop recording.”
“Yeah, not gonna do that. This is my insurance policy.”
He swallows, visibly sweating. “I’m not saying shit with that on.”
“Can and will. And I’ll keep this recording until you retract everything, and once you have, I’ll let you delete it myself.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“At this point, your hesitating is proof enough. But unlike you, none of us here want this extra drama. We’ve got way too much shit on our plates to worry about some fucking geed.”
His face flames red.
“And if you thought you’d be able to rush another frat next year, I think it’s obvious that’s off the table.”
“That was your plan, wasn’t it?” Charles asks. “A bit of revenge, but mostly knowing that if you got rid of the Sigmas, there’d be none of them around next year to warn your new fraternity about you.”
I turn to smile at him. “Someone’s a little genius.”
“Turns out all my training in law has been good for something. I can pick a lying son of a bitch a mile away.”
“Last chance,” I tell him. “I’m done playing. Either admit it, or play your chances.”
He swallows thickly, then drops his eyes to the ground. “Fine.”
“Fine, what?”
“Fine, I did it. I made up a bunch of shit to get you shut down. Happy?”
I turn off the recording. “Very. Now follow through with everything else and you won’t have an issue, but let me be clear. Everyone in Greek life will know what you did, and they’ll be watching. If you try to pull this shit ever again, we’ll be onto you. Consider yourself blacklisted.”
“One last thing,” Charles says. “How did you do it? The posts? The photos when you were supposed to be meeting us? The pranks?”
He scowls. “I’m an IT major, dickwad. It’s basic-level shit.”
“And the pranks?” I ask.
“Like I’m going to rat anyone out.”
“But you had help?”
“Fuck you. I already admitted to everything. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”
I spin on my heel and storm away, leaving him to his red eyes and clenched jaw. Maybe I’d feel sorry for the asshole if I thought he had a shred of remorse, but everything he’s ever done and said makes that hard to believe.
When I step foot out into the courtyard, everyone who was here has moved on, and I lean over my knees to take a long breath.
That’s it.
We got him.
Charles steps up beside me, and his fingers lightly rub the back of my neck. “You okay?”
“Fucking perfect.” And damn I wish we could kiss right now because I couldn’t have done this without him.