Chapter 8
eight
It’s not that I don’t like classwork. I’m just above it.
I did one set of problems for College Algebra, and now I get it. Done. Why do they insist that I do twelve thousand more? On a Sunday. The weekends should be protected from having to do any work.
Also, the fact that I even have to take algebra sets my brain on fire. I’m an interior design major. The university is trying to scam us out of more money by forcing us all to take classes we don’t need and keeping us here longer.
Could I have skipped it and selected another math course if I were on schedule with my peers? Yes. Missing that year of high school was traumatic in more ways than one.
And I’ll never stop paying for it.
Nonetheless, here I am. A good student, sitting in the library…doing math problems and not even the kind I can use a computer to help me with. No! I had to get one of those granola teaching assistants who insisted we all use a pencil and show our work.
I did the first five and have a hand cramp. I should sue.
“Will you quit making that sound?” Julien snaps at me in a harsh whisper.
“What sound?”
“That…that siiigh you do.”
I suck in my cheeks. Do I do that all the time now? Probably. I bat my lashes at him as he trails a hand through his dirty-blond hair. He wears it a mess when we’re not at a party, apparently.
“Jules?”
He doesn’t look up from some architecture textbook. “What?”
“Will you do some algebra problems for me?”
Slowly, his gaze travels up my body with a flirty half-grin. “Ash?”
“What?”
“You can use those fuck-me eyes. That cute little pout you got. Your incredible tits and ass… And I’m still uninterested.”
I toss my napkin from our coffee break at him with a snort, but he snatches it out of the air.
“But no. There’s no way I’m doing your homework. We’re not even really friends, remember?” he says, taking a sip of his cold brew with an arched, pointed eyebrow.
I straighten my shoulders. “I suppose if I were to have a friend, you’d be it. But that doesn’t mean we do stuff together.”
A wan expression covers his face. “You mean like, oh, I don’t know… Going to the Quad Cafe on Monday. Shopping at that new boutique on Wednesday. Studying in the library today. Fuck. Maybe you were serious about getting appointed to me.”
I shrug. “I come with a glorious dowry.”
Hand grasping his chin, he contemplates, then nods. “Now that you mention it, marrying a rich girl would be stellar. You could buy me all the shoes I’d want. We could build a fancy house. I’d design it.”
“Separate bedrooms,” we say in unison. Like a prayer we both forgot we already believed in.
“What are you going to bring into the situation, then? Does your family have money?”
His normally sarcastic attitude turns cold. “Alcoholism and raging physical abuse. Does that work for you?”
“Ah…so no alcohol.”
With another sip of his drink, he swallows and clears his throat. Voice dropping to a muted tone, he asks, “Could you do that?” He seems half-serious.
“Give up drinking? Sure.” I shrug, but give him a wink. “But only if I can have big, burly boyfriends over on weekends.”
“Well, you’d have to share them.”
I throw out my hand for him to shake. “Deal.”
“Okay, so we’ll invite one bisexual bear for both of us.” His eyes glint with pride…like he confessed something he’s never once gotten close to saying aloud.
It makes me feel weird. Like, should I say something? No, because if I do, I could embarrass him.
Instead, I get up and cross to the other side of the long study table. He startles when I push him back enough so I can sit in his lap and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks.”
“God, for what? I don’t like this.” But his grin says otherwise.
I let loose a whispered laugh. Despite his protest, he squeezes me tightly for a moment...then pushes me off him.
“For being such an amazing friend. I’ve never really had one before.”
When I settle back in my chair, legs crisscrossed, he takes a long drink of his coffee and asks, “Why is that?”
“I was born…different, I guess. Probably because all of my older sisters were mean to me, and I learned to be tough. My parents were trying for a boy for a long time, and I was another disappointment. I happened to be the last before the golden child came along. My sisters were…good, you know? They were into all the things my mom liked. I wasn’t interested in that stuff. Nails and dresses and boys. Not until…”
The lake at The Crest. Waves rushing along the rocky beach. Diving into the water at midnight. Holding hands. My first kiss…
“Not until later. Or maybe ever. I don’t know.
The girls at school hated me because boys showed me attention, even though I didn’t like them in that way.
They thought I was trying to steal their boyfriends.
But I wasn’t even into them.” I shrug as I think back to the first fistfight I got into in seventh grade.
“My dad’s a boxer. Taught me how to take a hit and throw one harder.
So I did. And then…they say I went too far. ”
Once a therapist deduced I’d learned that attention only came when I was bad. That neglect teaches you things—like confusing pain with affection. She had theories about why rough sex feels good to me.
I say I like it because I enjoy pissing Aiden off.
Fury rises in my gut as I remember getting herded into the girls’ locker room by Luna and her little posse. Apparently, whoever the cool guy was that week told her I’d kissed him. I don’t think I’d ever spoken to him before. Why would I? I hated everyone equally.
“This girl cornered me with about five of her dance team friends in the bathroom. They pulled out chunks of my hair and got a few punches in. When I got free, I unleashed on Luna, the head bitch. It was like every bit of rage I couldn’t take out on my sisters was in that first swing. Took her down to the ground.”
Blood on the green tiles. Ceramic shattering as I bashed her head in repeatedly until the janitor rushed in to stop me. Even while he held me back, I kept trying to scratch Luna’s eyes out. Dirty cunt.
“Damn. What happened?” Julien’s throat tightens as he swallows, waiting on the edge of his seat for the end of the tale. Only he doesn’t know it was the beginning of my sad story.
“She got a concussion, needed stitches, jaw broken. Her parents threatened to press charges, but because the girls jumped me, they couldn’t do much.
As part of the mediation, however, my parents agreed to send me to this disciplinary camp.
To learn leadership skills every summer from then on through my high school years. ”
I down the rest of my coffee like I’m finishing up. Because he doesn’t need to know the rest.
No one does.
I shrug. “It was a way for my family to not have to deal with me for a few months out of the year.”
Instead of looking at me with pity, which would make me even more uncomfortable, when I glance at Julien, he’s nodding. In solidarity. Like he understands.
“So we’re friends, then,” he says.
“And soon-to-be lavender lovers.”
Olivia Cardell—yes, the asshole’s sister—shifts at the white-paneled podium in front of all of Omega Nu Epsilon. It’s Sunday evening, Greek House meeting night.
Our sorority president looks distracted, and she never is. Part of me wonders if it’s because she’s gotten hung up on that computer geek, Valen Von Dovish. Fitting pair.
My freshman dorm roommate, Athena, a fellow ONE, perches on her chair next to me like it’s a duty. The thing is, I don’t mind her. I know she doesn’t like me. But at least she rarely talks. It’s a beautiful gift for a human to have, in my opinion.
For the first month we lived together, I thought she was deaf. Until she asked me point-blank to please turn down my music because she was sleeping. That was a real disappointment.
I once overheard her and her cousin, Zoe, talking about how I was a bitch and always trying to get attention. Zoe seems tolerable, though. So I’ve let it slide.
“All rise,” Olivia instructs us, and we stand as a unit.
Together, we chant our oath aloud: “We are ONE. Ours to cherish. Others to inspire. Opportunities to unite. And one true love to forever hold. Blessed be Caliphylla, goddess of all life. May she grant us the sacrament in our appointments. Heed her words. Multiply the earth through the labors of your wombs.”
It’s all crap. But I couldn’t pledge the same sorority as my cousin, Pippi. Not to mention, I think I’d shoot up the place if I had to interact with Valencia Von Dovish for more than two minutes.
Also, I heard a rumor from Valencia that even if I’d applied, they wouldn’t take me because I’m too rowdy. Me… From the rowdiest group of girls on campus! They have Evie Lynx! Whatever.
Sigma Lambda Psi’s president is an utter cunt.
At least Olivia is cool—in a frigid way.
“For anyone new, Wicked Wednesday is the third Greek Game of the year. It happens under a waxing gibbous moon at Delta House. Outside are several carnival tents, and in each, you’ll encounter a different mini game.
A full casino is in their back room. Play games and win coins.
The more you earn for the activities, the more points we get as a house.
The goal of each event isn’t physical endurance and skill…
It’s about how far you’re willing to go to win. ”
A few of the women in the back shift and giggle. Some start to recollect previous years and mention things like being whipped by the ringleader and so forth.
“Attention, please! Yes, there’s naked Twister. Seven Minutes in Heaven, but you must outlast your partner… Um, Spin the Bottle leading into Truth or Dare—”
Zoe Griffin pipes up loudly, “Don’t pick dare from a Theta!”
The girls laugh at her outburst, and Olivia’s cheeks turn pink.
“And, of course, the casino games. Poker, Blackjack, and Roulette. Some slot machines, but those are rigged, I’m convinced. Don’t use them.”
“The dunk tank!” one of the seniors shouts.
Olivia chuckles low. “Okay, if you get caught cheating, or if you lose a dare, or if enough of the boys gather up bids, you may get thrown in the dunk tank. They’ll strip you naked and put you into the booth filled with lube.
When brothers throw a pie at the target?
You’ll drop into the tank, but onto a, um… well, a giant dildo.”
Bursts of laughter seep out of the room, and murmurs abound about who has previously had to do this or not. I blink slowly. Are these people all crazy?
My eyes scan the smiling faces to find Scout’s in the sophomore row, who’s looking not as confused as me, but more annoyed.
“What about the brothers? Do they do that, too?” one of my fellow freshmen asks.
“The boys have an obedience course. Naked, of course. Sisters attach a collar and leash on him and lead him through kinky obstacles where he needs to perform for the crowd in the main circle. Then he can return to his cage for the rest of the night.”
Women hoot and cheer at the sound of that, and I do admit…it sounds perfect for someone who believes himself to be in charge…
“I can’t wait to drag Aiden into the closet with me,” an irritating voice caws behind me. When I turn, I catch Hailey bragging to a few juniors. “I wonder if he’ll be able to endure what I plan to do to him.”
“I’m sure Aiden would have you running,” Zoe says with an edge of irritation.
“Pfft. I’ve had him before. Yes, he was big, and it hurt, but in a really good way.” She sounds so proud of herself.
“You’d better know what you’re getting yourself into if you go in for seven minutes with him. I don’t think he’d play nice. He’d be all about winning.”
“Meh, I’ve got a secret weapon.”
Zoe leans forward with a sly glint that says she’s already bored with this conversation, but she wants to hear the lie anyway.
Hailey pauses dramatically, then drops her voice lower.
“I used this special pheromone perfume in a red heart-shaped vial on Red Night, and I’m convinced that’s what brought us together.
It was blessed by some coven as a love spell.
He couldn’t stop pressing his nose wherever I’d dabbed it.
I’ll smear that everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
He won’t last five seconds without begging to stay with me. ”
“Isn’t the goal to get him to leave?”
Hailey’s little laugh sets my back teeth on edge. “Not mine.”
Without waiting to be dismissed appropriately, I rise from my seat and aim for the hall. In the main foyer, I climb the marble staircase to the junior floor. Everyone’s names are decorated on their placards outside their rooms. Hailey’s is easy enough to find. And unlocked...
Her space stinks of cheap florals and is decorated as if she’s stuck at age fourteen. On her desk is a picture of her with some girls I don’t recognize. Next to it is a tray of glass bottles.
Red and heart-shaped? Yep. Got it.
When I close the door, someone slips past me. I straighten, wide-eyed. Scout’s face looks shocked to find me there.
“I was, um, looking for something,” I blurt, like I’ve been caught by sorority surveillance.
“I don’t care. I’m going to study, not waste time at a meeting.” Her eyes flick to the bottle in my hand, and her face goes pale. “Th-that was a joke, I swear.”
My eyes narrow. “You gave this to Hailey.”
“Well, she thinks I bought it from a coven, but yeah.”
I dangle it like a threat. “So what’s really in it?”
At first, I think she won’t tell me, but her gaze sizes me up. She crosses her arms and juts out her lower lip. “Ferret piss.”
No words pass through my mind for a beat. All I can do is blink.
“Are you going to tell her?” Scout asks, voice like a challenge with homework in it.
“Fuck no.” I soften only a fraction. “But I’m going to toss it.”
Her long brown braid thumps behind her shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Fair.”
I sidestep her and head for the bathroom, flip open a stall, unscrew the lid, and dump the bottle into the toilet. On my way out, I drop the empty in the bin.
Hailey thinks a scent will claim him? Dumb cunt. I know the game he can’t walk away from… A green felt table. A deck of cards. And one devastating bet.
My plan’s been the same since the day I knew I was accepted to Northview University after stalking him online for years like a ghost that never learned to rest.
Make him jealous.
Get under his skin and rot there.
Push until he snaps and touches me like he hates himself for wanting to.
I don’t need him to fall in love.
I just need him to lose.