“I’ll take that as a yes.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and trotted off.
“Holy crap, Amber,” Kayla said. “Forward, much?”
“What?” Amber asked, her tone belying innocence. “I’m here to have a good time. And Brad looks like a good time.”
We headed to the party room. Here’s something I learned about frat houses last year as a freshman. They looked nothing like the ones on TV. Most were dirty, smelly, and in disrepair. I mean, honestly, what did you expect when you put two dozen twenty-something guys in a house? This particular frat house was actually a converted barn. You know that old saying, do you live in a barn? The answer was yes. They literally lived in a barn.
The party room was a huge room on the far side of the house that had concrete floors with a drain in the center. It smelled faintly of paint, and what was that other smell? Rose? Freesia? An odd smell for a fraternity house. I found the source of the scent in the outlets—scented plug-ins. Man, they were pulling out all the stops.
Three of the four walls were a clean cream color, which I attributed to the paint smell. The fourth wall was covered top to bottom in writing. A square DJ booth was in the center of the room and large speakers were bolted in each corner near the ceiling. Folding metal chairs were scattered about and a beer pong table was set up.
I wouldn’t go barefoot in here, but I was pleasantly surprised with how clean it was. Of course, the semester hadn’t started yet. In another week or two the fresh paint smell would probably fade, the plug-ins would dry up, and the walls and floor would be covered with a sticky coat of grime.
No one was manning the keg, so we helped ourselves, using the red cups that were stacked next to it. I took a sip and was pleasantly surprised yet again. They’d gotten quality beer instead of the cheap crap that was normally served at frat parties.
Amber and the other girls went outside to the bonfire, but I opted to stay inside. Even though I’d agreed to come to this party of my own free will, I still wasn’t feeling overly social. But I didn’t trust myself to be alone—the crazy look in my eyes earlier had scared me.
After Tyler died, my parents had forced me into therapy. I hated it. So much talking—how did I feel about this? How did I feel about that? Talking about my feelings wasn’t going to bring Tyler back, so what was the point?
After about the third session, I’d figured out that they were worried I’d be so overwhelmed with grief I’d hurt myself or something. So I’d given in at the sessions and talked and cried and then talked some more. It was enough to convince my therapist that I wasn’t a danger to myself.
I could have told them that, saved my parents some money.
But an hour ago, I couldn’t have been so sure. Tyler and I had been so alike. If he committed suicide, then was I capable of it, too? Were my parents right in their fears? Was I really capable of hurting myself?
Had Tyler glanced in the rearview mirror before he did it? Had he seen a maniacal look in his eyes like the one that had been in mine earlier?
No, I’m not doing this.
I wanted—no, needed—to forget. I couldn’t deal with this right now. Every time Tyler’s image entered my mind, I— No. The whole point of coming out tonight was to not do this. I needed a distraction.
I wandered over to the wall with all the writing. The earliest signature I could find dated back to 1994—Bunny was here—and the latest one was 2006—For a good time call 555-9284. 1994 was probably when Beta Chi moved into the house, and 2006 was probably when the wall became too full for any more signatures. At one point, one of the Beta Chi brothers must have been quite the artist. In addition to all the signatures, there were several drawings of comic book style women with twelve inch waists and forty inch busts. Gravity being what it was and all, that was just impossible. A woman of those proportions would topple over or at least have serious back problems. But hey, at least they were clothed.
The door at the back of the party room led to a narrow hallway. There was a sign that said Beta Chi members and authorized guests only and a padlock on it that was currently hanging unlocked on the hasp. Brad had told me to make myself at home, and I was here by invitation, which I assumed made me an authorized guest, so I crossed the threshold. Bedrooms lined both sides of the hall. Some doors of the more trusting brothers were open while the more practical brothers had closed theirs. A few of the rooms were occupied and I got a cursory wave as I passed by.
I walked up a flight of stairs and found myself in another hallway identical to the one below. More bedrooms, more cursory waves. Composite pictures lined the hallway and I chuckled at the ones from the 1980s. Powder blue bow ties, mustaches, and mullets. The Beta Chi boys were at the height of fashion. Swoon.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Amber. Where are you? Things are getting started in the party room.
Tucking my phone away, I went back the way I’d come. Everyone had returned to the party room and it looked like a middle school dance—girls on one side, boys on the other. The only two who were interacting were Brad and Megan, the social chairs, who were standing in the center of the room. Amber motioned me over.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“They’re doing some kind of ice breaker or something.” Amber shrugged. “Megan wouldn’t tell us, but she was excited about it.”
“Ladies, welcome to Beta Chi,” Brad said with a dashing smile. “If I haven’t met you yet, I apologize. I’m Brad, the social chair. Megan and I have put together a little thing we like to call Neckties, Zip Ties, and Mai Tais.”
“So in that basket”—Megan pointed to a laundry basket sitting on the beer pong table— “are neckties belonging to the brothers of Beta Chi. Each Alpha will pick one.”
“Now here’s the fun part,” Brad chimed in. “You’ll be zip tied to the owner of the tie for the remainder of the evening.” He picked up a paper bag that had been sitting at his feet and pulled out a handful of plastic zip ties.
At about that point, my mouth fell open. Around me, my sisters buzzed with excitement. Excitement. They actually wanted to be tied up to a stranger for the night.
“Once you get all tied up, help yourself to a Mai Tai over there.” Megan pointed to a makeshift bar that had been set up next to the keg.
I raised my eyebrows and looked at Amber, who was laughing. “This is going to be good,” she said, then leaned in to whisper, “When we were outside Brad told me he loves orange plaid. So random, right?” She laughed again.
This was not my idea of a good time. Luckily, there were twice the number of girls, which was typical. Fraternities were always much smaller than sororities, and Beta Chi was no exception. So all I had to do was stand in the back until they ran out of ties.
It wasn’t hiding. It was more like strategic positioning.
“Can I pick first?” Amber called over the hum of voices.
Brad smiled. “Of course.”
I took a step back, but Amber had other plans. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her before I could wrest free from her grasp.
Crap, crap, crap. So much for hanging in the back.
Amber dug around in the basket and finally came up with one of the ugliest ties I had ever seen—orange plaid with just about every shade of orange under the sun, a veritable rainbow of pumpkins and goldfish and carrots.
She smiled coyly at Brad, who chuckled.
“It’s my lucky day,” he said.
Amber walked over to him—although walked is probably too meager a word for what her hips were doing. Sashayed was definitely a better description.
Brad made a show of pulling out a zip tie and wrapping it around their wrists. Then Megan helped fasten it.
“Cori, you’re next. Pick your tie!” called Amber—the pint-sized traitor. Some of my sisters cheered.
All eyes were on me. There was no escape.
I looked into the basket of ties. There were stylish ones, ugly ones, and downright bizarre ones. One had a Santa Claus with a fuzzy yarn beard rid
ing Rudolph, whose nose was a red lightbulb. Another one was tie dyed hot pink. There were both Star Wars and Star Trek themed ties.
I wasn’t ready to be zip tied to the recipients of any of those. I didn’t want to be zip tied to anyone, really, but that ship had sailed. I played it safe and chose a solid royal blue tie with a diamond texture. The owner of it had to at least be somewhat normal.
I pulled it out and turned to face Brad and Megan.
“Hold it up,” she instructed.
I did as I was told and tensed, bracing myself.
Chapter Three
At first, no one came forward. The only thing worse than being zip tied to a stranger was not getting zip tied to one while all eyes were on me. I felt like the kid who got picked last for teams on the playground. Did no one want to claim the blue tie dangling from my fingers?
With my luck, I’d probably get paired with one of their freshman pledges.
“That’s mine.” The voice was deep and came from the back of the room. My lungs gratefully expelled the breath I’d been holding.
The Betas parted to make way for the owner of the tie. I bit my lip and crossed my arms over my chest, looking down. That meant that I saw his lower half first—faded jeans that hugged his thighs and rode low on his hips.
How come it’s perfectly acceptable for guys to wear jeans, but when I wanted to, I got vetoed? Of course, when you made them look as melt-in-your-mouth yummy as this guy did, you could probably get away with wearing them anywhere.
“I’m Luke.”
At his words, I looked up and was startled by the blueness of his eyes. In the world of Crayola, they would be labeled Cornflower. In girl world, they were dreamy. In my world, they were a welcome distraction. I could lose myself in those eyes. Would that be such a bad thing, just for an evening?
“Hello. I’m Corinne. Cori, actually,” I said, holding out my hand, then feeling stupid at my formality. We were about to be zip tied together, for Christ’s sake, and I was introducing myself like we were at a church picnic.
I blamed the jeans. I couldn’t think straight.
He shook my hand though, not seeming to notice the absurdity of my actions. “Nice to meet you, Cori.”
Still holding my hand, he led me over to where Brad was waiting with a zip tie. We held our wrists out—my left, his right—and Brad zipped us up then flashed a huge grin. “Have fun, kids.”
I handed Luke his blue tie, and he shoved it in his back pocket.
It was awkward trying to walk in relative tandem while maintaining minimum contact, especially when he was several inches taller than me. I was wearing wedge sandals, so he had to be over the six-foot mark. We took a few steps out of the way to watch the rest of the tie picking.
I had assumed the Beta guys would be all over this zip tie thing—we Alphas were an attractive group, and let’s face it, what guy wouldn’t want a hot girl literally tied to him?
Apparently this one.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him as he shifted uncomfortably and ran his free hand over his hair, which was dark brown and cut short, super short, like a buzz cut. I didn’t normally go for the military look on guys, but it worked for him. He could carry it off with his strong jaw.
He caught me looking at him before I could look away, and it was my turn to squirm. Damn.
“Do you want a Mai Tai?” he asked.
“Um, sure,” I said. That was the whole point of the party, right? Part of the whole tie/tai thing?
Unfortunately, we were not in sync yet with our walking, which meant I turned left while he turned right, wrenching both our wrists. I crashed into his chest and he wrapped his arm around me to steady me. I thanked God I had talked Amber out of those stilettos and insisted on my wedge sandals. Otherwise, I’d be eating pavement right now or would have broken an ankle or something.
As it was, I ended up with my nose in Luke’s collarbone. It kind of hurt, actually. My free hand had landed on his chest, and as soon as I regained my balance, I jumped away, causing the plastic of the zip tie to dig into my skin.
“Sorry,” I muttered, inching over to give my wrist some slack.
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I, uh, zigged and you zagged.”
I looked up at him. “I really need that Mai Tai now.”
His smile started at his eyes before traveling down to his mouth. “Of course.” He gestured for me to walk first, so I started toward the bar and he followed my lead.
Luckily the social chairs had thoughtfully prepared the drinks in advance, so we didn’t have to attempt any drink prepping and pouring. I took one and drained half of it. After watching another sister get paired, I downed the second half and picked up another cup.
It was going to be a long night.
Luke leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but can we get out of here?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“They’re going to run out of ties soon, and I wouldn’t put it past Brad to zip us guys up to another girl.” He looked pointedly at his free wrist.
“Gotcha.” He didn’t need to tell me twice. We shuffled through a door in the party room that opened to a narrow set of stairs. It was a tough squeeze with his broad shoulders, and we nearly fell out of the doorway at the top of the stairs.
I burst out laughing. The Mai Tai was beginning to take effect, and now that I had a little buzz going, I could see the humor in the situation.
Luke chuckled. “This is freaking ridiculous. Hang a left into that room.”
I did as he instructed and found myself in a room that seemed to be a den of some sort. It was decorated with Beta Chi paraphernalia, including paddles and their framed charter. A huge window lined one wall, and when I stood on my tiptoes, I could see that it overlooked the party room.
“Wait just a sec,” Luke said, using his left hand to dig in his right pocket. His brow furrowed. “This is a lot harder than you’d think.”
I giggled, until he brought his hand out of his pocket, holding a pocket knife.
I stilled. “What’s that for?”
He grimaced. “I can see I’m not making a great impression, but it’s about to get better.” He slipped the knife under the zip tie and pulled up until it split and fell harmlessly to the floor.
I rubbed my wrist. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” He pulled a handful of zip ties out of his pocket. “If you’d rather—”
I held my hands up and shook my head. “No, that’s okay.”
He grinned. “That’s what I thought. I’ll be right back.”
While he was gone, I looked down into the party room. The laundry basket was down to one last tie, and true to Luke’s prediction, Brad asked for volunteers to be tied up to additional girls. A few came forward, while some of the other girls merely shrugged and tied themselves up to one another.
A few guys were hovering in the corner without any attachments. Huh.
When Luke came back into the room holding a beer, I asked him, “What’s the deal with those guys? Why aren’t they tied to anyone?”
He walked over to stand beside me. “Oh, those guys. Potential pledges. Can’t officially include them in any events until they commit.”
“Freshmen?” I didn’t need an answer to that, though. I could tell by their eager stares that this was their first foray into college coed life.
“Yeah.” He took a swig of his beer and looked down at them. “I’m the pledge master, so hopefully they’ll be cool. Honestly, I just hope they don’t make asses out of themselves tonight.”
“That’s pretty much a certainty.”
“Unfortunately.” He paused. “I was one of those rare freshmen. I can say with certainty that I never made an ass of myself, especially in front of a hot girl.”
“Are you sure about that?” I countered, my eyebrows raised. And yeah, I’d noticed that he called me hot.
His smile was more of
a smirk. “Oh, yeah.”
“I don’t know… That ‘can we get out of here?’ thing sounded like a lame pick-up line.”
“If I wanted to give you a lame pick-up line, I’d say, ‘hey girl, are you tired?’”
“’Cause you’ve been running through my mind all night,” I finished.
The corners of his mouth quirked up. “That’s a nice shirt—”
“But it’d look better on my floor in the morning.”
“Do you believe in love at first sight—”
“Or should I walk by again?” I nodded at him with a smug look on my face.
“Damn.” He chuckled. “You really have heard them all.”
“Sadly, yes.”
He leaned on the window next to me. The music was thumping below.
I turned toward him. “Tell me you’ve never actually used any of those lines.”
He grimaced. “Guilty.” He gestured to the cocky freshman who was down in the party room hitting on one of my sisters. “That was me two years ago.”
“And look at you now,” I teased. “You’ve come such a long way.”
“I like to think so.”
We watched as the freshman, whom I’d dubbed Cocky Boy, was rejected by not one, but two of my sisters who were tied together. We couldn’t hear what was being said, but I could imagine. He’d picked probably the worst two girls to try to pick up. Ashley and Kayla were seniors who chewed up guys and spit them out when they were done. Then stomped on them for good measure.
“The difference between me and him is that my lame pick-up lines actually worked.”
I laughed, a nice belly laugh. “Oh, come on. No, they didn’t.”
“They did,” Luke said earnestly, trying to keep his expression serious and failing. “Once. She was pretty drunk though. She thought I was hilarious.”
“But you weren’t trying to be funny, were you?”
“I plead the fifth on that one.” He pointed at my cup. “You’re empty. You want to go downstairs for a refill?”
I looked down at the forgotten red plastic cup in my hand, then tilted my head. “Is that your way of asking to tie yourself up to me again?”
Letting Go Page 2