by Rachel Shane
“We’re not going to bite.” Corey snapped his teeth, chomping at air.
“Speak for yourself,” Nate snarled. He turned toward Harrison. “Dude, just know you’re on our turf now.”
“Actually, I believe this is Rho Sigma’s turf.” Harrison spit the word like an insult. Nate’s threat worked against him because Harrison strode into the room and perched on the end of one of the beds, furthest from Nate.
“Boys!” Bianca said, giggling. She must be at least two drinks deep already. “No fighting. Unless it’s over us.”
Harrison flicked his eyes toward her, as if to convey that could be arranged. She blushed.
I leaned into Corey. “What’s going on?”
He stroked the small of my back and directed a glare at Harrison. “Nothing.”
“What?” Harrison uncapped a bottle of beer with the opener, then arched his arm as if to toss it across the room. He must have thought better about sinking to that level of immaturity because he calmly slithered off the bed and plunked it into the garbage bin. “You still bitter about us stealing all your pledges?”
“You didn’t steal anyone.” Corey let out an exaggerated snort. “You got our leftovers.”
Harrison chuckled to himself as he sat back down. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
Erin plopped next to him on the bed, spilling her drink over the top of the glass. A drop landed on her dress, and she hopped up, screeching. She frantically rubbed at the wet spot, which darkened the fabric in an unfortunate place right in front of her crotch. “This is satin!”
“I’ll get a wet washcloth.” Bianca headed for the bathroom.
Harrison leaned into Erin’s ear, whispering something while keeping his eyes focused on Corey and Nate. Erin nodded, fighting back a sniffle. This was the only time I’d ever seen her lose control, but just as quickly as she lost it, she composed herself. “We’re going back to the room to use the blow dryer.” She allowed Harrison to lead her out the door. It slammed behind them.
Bianca stuck her head out of the bathroom, a washcloth dripping in her palm. “We have a blow dryer, too.” She tossed the washcloth at the sink. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing,” Nate said, handing the drink back to Bianca.
“They think Beta Chi’s in a rivalry with them, but that’s only because they keep trying to mess with us.” Corey drained the last of his beer. “Hey, Nate!” He shook the glass like a maraca. Nate tossed him another beer that almost hit me in the skull.
“Because of some pledges? That’s so stupid,” Bianca said. Fraternities had both fall and spring rush for new members. Sororities only participated in spring rush. Our process was a lot more formalized than theirs. They threw parties and the prospective pledges could attend whichever ones they wanted. After one party, the boys could extend bids to join. Girls had to sign up via the Greek Organization, who placed them in tour groups. After each round, we cut girls from our list of wannabes and they narrowed the houses they were asked back to from fourteen to seven, then from seven to three, and finally from three to one. The Greek Organization then matched the houses’ list choices with the girls’ list to create evenly distributed pledge classes for each house. No sorority could extend bids to more than forty girls. Fraternities could take as many or as little as they wanted.
“That’s not just it,” Corey said. “We’re in an all out prank war with them. Last month they kept all our downstairs furniture hostage until we bargained with them. Then they hung a sign over our door that read Beta Guy Lameda, which is stupid and lame in itself. Stuff like that. We’re pissed because we can’t get them back.”
“I don’t mind the rivalries, they’re fun, but this one is totally unfair,” Nate said. Something told me if the advantages were skewed in his favor, he wouldn’t be pissed.
“Why can’t you get them back?” I finished my drink and slid off Corey’s lap to refill it.
“Because they don’t have a house,” both Corey and Nate said at the same time.
I sucked in a breath. The pageant sashes the shirtless animal-headed boys dropped on Beta Chi members that night. “I’m confused. What fraternity are they?” I lifted the rum bottle. Bianca held her cup out to me, so I filled both.
“Out House,” Nate said.
“Omega Upsilon Tau,” Corey corrected.
Out house. Out house. Through Rho Sigma this semester, I’d been to parties at nearly every fraternity. But… “I’ve never heard of them.” I handed Bianca her drink.
“That’s because they’re underground,” Nate said. “And they think that makes them cool.”
I was about to open my mouth to get further clarification, but Corey spoke before I could. “They’re illegal, not recognized by the Greek Org. Basically, it means the rules don’t apply to them. They can do whatever they want: recruit potential pledges before we’re actually allowed, steal them from other houses by offering incentives, that kind of thing.”
“We think that Harrison dude only came with Erin to start something with us,” Nate said.
I climbed onto Corey’s lap. He didn’t stroke my back like earlier. Didn’t squeeze his arms around my waist. He only clutched beer after beer with tightly clenched fists.
At the formal, we were the perfect happy couple. We posed in pictures with—I’m convinced—the largest smiles of anybody there. Purple lights flooded the room, glittering with the twinkling string lights wound along the window sills. Silver streamers dangled from the ceiling to add to the sparkle. White linen covered tables surrounded the large dance floor, which never emptied the entire night. I knew I should tell Bianca not to make a move on Nate but I couldn’t pull myself away from Corey.
We danced in the center of the floor, our bodies wobbling like jello. Corey held me so close I thought I might burst. Everything was finally perfect. Hints of love were tossed around the room like party confetti.
Layla Davies came up to us at one point. Her pupils were dilated and she couldn’t stop chugging a bottle of water. “Mackenzie…” She reached out and stroked my arm. The gesture was so weird, so out of the ordinary. I lifted my arm higher onto Corey’s shoulder.
“That better not contain alcohol.” Layla pointed at the glass in my hand, her mouth set in a straight line.
“Nope. Just diet.” I held it under her nose, knocking into her cheek in the process. Whoops. The giggle that escaped my lips didn’t quite deliver the “I’m sober, I swear!” message.
“I would never get her drunk.” Corey planted a kiss on my forehead for her benefit.
“I used to think you were cute,” she told him, as if now that he was with me, his attractiveness dipped a little. My neck and cheeks burned.
“I never thought you were,” he said. I couldn’t help snickering.
She scoffed. Corey spun me away from her, both of us laughing as she stalked back to her friends, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. “She’s so fucked up.” Corey shook his head.
“Really? You think? She was drinking water.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s because you can’t drink booze on Molly.”
I flashed back to the last chapter meeting when she’d claimed the formal would be dry for anyone under twenty-one. People like her. Now I understood the loophole she found in her own decree. It made my fists clench, even though I’d found my own loophole too, like the drinks of pure vodka Corey would slip me before I entered the bathroom where I’d chug them.
Layla wasn’t the only one we avoided the rest of the night. Corey steered me away from Harrison and Erin whenever we crossed paths on the dance floor. Harrison always lifted his eyebrows in challenge, hand firmly cupping Erin’s waist as if to give him a rock solid alibi. The stain on her dress had faded or at least the alcohol I’d consumed blurred it completely.
And in a flash, a flash of a camera lens, a flash of a memory, the night was over. We were on the bus and my head felt cloudy. My eyelids drooped, and hiccups escaped my throat. Although there was commotion going on around
us, people getting sick, talking, being drunken assholes, I ignored it.
“I wanted to tell you,” Corey said. “The other day, when we went to your room to put the contacts in…” He pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I was amazed. You looked so beautiful.”
His words sent shivers through me. “I had no makeup on, my hair was messy, my—”
“Like I said. Beautiful.” He clasped my hand. “You looked real. No façade involved. Nothing for you to hide behind.”
My heart fluttered in my chest. The feelings I had for him burned inside me. He didn’t have to say those words. He didn’t have to prove anything; he was still going to get laid.
Beams of starlight streaming through the bus window illuminated Corey’s pursed lips. “Mac, I’m scared.”
Me too, I thought. “About…?” I held my breath.
“Us. I haven’t liked anyone this much in a long time. Maybe ever.” He tilted his head away from me, dark shadows muddling his features.
His words should have been a lance, plunged straight into my heart. Instead they buoyed me with certainty. With the tip of my finger, I pushed his chin back toward me. “I’m not scared.”
“I know,” he breathed.
“But I’m the one who should be. You already let me down once back in October.” I placed my hand on his knee. “I have the most to gamble on this, and I’m willing to throw in my chips.”
He hesitated. The bus slowly came to a halt and reality raced back to us. Corey combed my hair away from my face. “What really scares me is…I’ve already fallen for you.”
BACK AT THE HOTEL after the formal, we changed into more comfortable clothing. I wore fitted gray yoga pants and a matching gray hoodie. Corey donned his usual sweats and a Beta Chi Lambda t-shirt.
“So what’s my surprise?” I strung an arm on my hip.
“Later.” Corey strode toward the door.
I unzipped his suitcase instead of following. “Is the surprise in here?”
He rushed back to me and grabbed my hand. “Yes, and you’ll see it later. But right now we have Tafterhours to go to and it’s going to be legendary.”
I groaned. Tafterhours simply meant drinking after the bars closed in Corey Taft’s room. Which was also my room. “Wait, people are coming here?” I stifled a twinge in my chest. I had other plans for the evening. Naked plans.
“No, Bianca’s room again. Come on. We’re late.” He tugged me toward the door.
When we arrived, it was just Bianca and Nate, and I started to suspect this wasn’t a party so much as a ploy to keep Bianca from making a move. In fact, Corey stopped drinking and switched to soda. I kept going, offsetting the alcohol with snacks from the vending machine.
The soda we’d brought ran out so Corey volunteered to get some more out of the vending machine. I followed him, if only to convince him to detour back to our room and not leave again. To that end, I pushed him up by the machines and stole a few kisses as soda cans clanked down. “Let’s go back to our room,” I whispered.
“Soon.” He pressed the empty ice bucket into my hands. My head swam, but I filled a bucket with ice, the clink clink clinks matching my beating heart.
When we emerged from the ice alcove, Corey crashed right into Harrison Wagner. Harrison’s ice bucket went flying out of his hands.
“Pick that up,” Harrison demanded, as if he had all authority over the situation.
Corey tried to sidestep around him except Harrison matched his moves, stride for stride, blocking his path. “Dude, don’t be a dick,” Corey said.
“I’m not the one who just attacked me.” Harrison flourished his hand toward the ice bucket rolling on the floor as if it were concrete evidence.
Corey scoffed. “Even you can’t slap that headline on this story.”
I squinted, trying to make sense of their conversation.
Harrison shrugged. “Just reporting the facts. But you’re right, there’s other things to focus on.” He sniffed the air. “Is that alcohol I smell?” He inched toward me. “She reeks of it.” Harrison pressed a finger to his lips like he was thinking even though it was clear he already knew exactly what words he wanted to lambast at us. “This is just a guess, but she’s not twenty one, is she?”
Corey knocked into Harrison’s shoulder as he brushed past him. “Come on, Mac.”
I took a tentative step forward. Harrison glanced from me to Corey and then shot me the most devious smile I’d ever seen. He met my cautious steps with large strides of his own, then propped his elbow on my shoulder, making me his own personal arm rest. “I can show you what a real man is like,” he whispered low into my ear. “Unlike that pussy over there. You know he cried during hazing?”
I wasn’t sure how Harrison knew that, and though it was supposed to turn me off, it only made Corey more endearing.
I was just about to wriggle out from under Harrison when Corey stormed toward us. “Get the fuck off her.”
“He’s not doing anything,” I said to thwart the bull charging look in Corey’s eyes.
Harrison spun around, releasing me, and faced Corey. “This is all par for the course. I stole your pledges.” He ticked on his fingers. “Your furniture.” Another tick. “Might as well go for a hat-trick and take the girl too.” He swung his head back and winked at me. The alcohol inside my stomach swam.
Corey threw the sodas to the floor, each one sounding louder than a bomb. He wrenched Harrison’s arm and swung him into a pivot so violent, Harrison’s elbow flew backward and knocked into my face in the process. I cried out and clamped a clammy hand to my throbbing cheek. Corey slammed Harrison against the wall. “Don’t you ever threaten her again.”
Harrison’s jaw tensed. “That wasn’t a threat, that was an upgrade opportunity for her.”
“Corey, forget it. Let’s just go.” I yanked on his arm, my breath coming ragged.
“Hmm, seems I was wrong before,” Harrison said. “He’s not just a pussy. He’s pussy-whipped.”
With that, Corey sunk his fist straight into Harrison’s jaw. Spit flew from his mouth in a beautiful arc. My stomach hollowed out even though part of me realized Corey was just protecting me.
A security guard came running around the corner. He must have heard the commotion. His head swiveled from Corey to Harrison, who now made a very good show of acting scared, breath ragged, eyes wide with fear, a whimper escaping from his throat. Corey let go of Harrison and backed away. Harrison continued his performance by clutching his jaw and letting out another fake whimper.
The security guard grabbed Corey’s arm and led him down the hall. “Room number?”
Corey’s mouth hung open for a moment. “But he was—”
But he was just talking, I thought. He hadn’t actually done anything except provoke. Even his elbow on my shoulder was just a harmless power move, not an actual threat. Still, maybe if Corey hadn’t interfered, Harrison would have done something wrong to me. For that, I was grateful he swooped in to my rescue.
“Room number?” the security guard asked again, his voice so firm and strong there was no room for argument.
Corey’s shoulders slumped. “Two twenty-six.”
He dragged Corey to our room. My skittish heart fumbled in my chest as I followed. The hallway swayed. “Pack your things. We don’t tolerate assault in this hotel. If you two leave quietly, we won’t arrest you.”
“But we can’t go anywhere, sir. It’s against the law to drive while intoxicated,” Corey said, sounding as cordial as possible.
I froze in place. Corey had stopped drinking ages ago but I’d recently done a shot of straight vodka.
“There’s another hotel about one mile up the road. You kids can walk there in fifteen minutes.”
Outside the wind howled, probably whipping snow like a tornado.
I swallowed hard. “But, sir,” I said, taking a cue from Corey. “That other guy provoked us. Corey was just—”
“You should have called security. Not assaulted him. What was
the other guy’s name?”
We told him and he took down my “report.” A local police officer took the liberty of escorting us out. He used his nightstick to point us in the direction of the other hotel.
Bitter cold stung my cheeks and made my teeth clatter. Snow fell in heavy clumps, releasing a crisp, ozone-like tang into the air. Skeletal trees performed a macabre dance number in the distance.
Corey’s hot breath swirled into the air as he blew on his bare hands. “This is so messed up. Harrison is the one who should get kicked out.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t exactly agree. I was too busy worrying about how I’d explain two hotel room charges to my dad’s credit card in the same night.
Corey paced under the awning while my knees shook. He slammed his fist against the pole, rattling the snow on top. An avalanche smashed onto his feet, and I let out a yelp and leaped back. “I’m sorry Mac, I’m just so fucking pissed right now.” He raked hid hand through his hair and sucked in a deep breath. The wounded look on his face stabbed at my heart.
“Let’s just go to sleep.” I took a step in the direction of the car and promptly slipped on the slick pavement. I flew forward, my face crashing into a pile of snow.
Corey rushed to me, extending his hand to help me up. Icicles clung to my skin, my clothes, my heart.
I fought back a sniffle as I peered into the black night toward the hotel I couldn’t see. My teeth chattered and a coldness so fierce welled up in me, turning my fingers to icicles. Suddenly I felt so tired, utterly drained, and the thought of walking another step seemed like it might actually kill me. I might be trashed, but Corey had stopped drinking hours ago. “Please,” I whispered against the howling wind. “Let’s drive to the other hotel.”
His feet stopped dead. “That’s not a good idea, Mac.”
“Even if you drive really slow?” I was shivering so much that my puffy coat squeaked as it rattled against my shirt.