by Rachel Shane
“Now’s the part where we kiss and make up?” He clapped his palms together in a prayer position. “You can even choose the spot on your body you want me to kiss. ‘All over’ is an acceptable answer.”
My cheeks flamed. Yes, everywhere! But my emotions were still raw. I needed more time to sift through all he’d said. “We’re not there yet,” I said. “But this is a step in the right direction.” I squeezed his hand briefly, a silent message. We were always better at communicating with our bodies anyway. “Now tell me your idea to destroy the entire Throckmorton Greek system and resurrect ourselves from the ashes.”
He chuckled. “We take every house out in a single blow. But obviously the Greek Office won’t shut down every house. That would mean no Greek system. They’d all lose their jobs. The school needs the funds gained from the rent of the houses.” He paused to let that sink in for a second. “Their only choice would be to reinstate everyone. Yours and Out House would then swoop in and argue we deserve the same treatment, since we will be on equal ground with all the other disgraced houses.”
“But…there are two versions of Rho Sig. And three frats vying to live in the same house.”
Harrison nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ve thought about that. What do you think about joining forces? Merging Out House and Yours into one. If we get reinstated before the semester ends, then Out House could stay in the house. And you girls could join us. It’s not ideal, but it’ll at least leave Layla with nothing at all.”
“I’m okay with that. But…” I twisted my hands in my lap. “It’s not my decision to make anymore. I resigned as president. Erin holds that role now.”
He nodded. “Should we call her down?”
I shook my head. “Let’s iron everything out first. Like how are we going to take out all houses in a single blow?”
He cracked his knuckles, and I could tell this was the part he enjoyed the most. Finding a way to dig under people’s skins and get what he needed. “I’ve scoured the Greek Org rulebook. I know all the violations. What’s the biggest thing the GO has been cracking down on since last year?”
“Underage drinking.”
“Well, yeah.” He tilted his palm in the air. “But more obvious than that.”
My pulse thumped. Nothing came to me.
“Unregistered parties,” he said.
I laughed. “So basically you want to get them in trouble by violating the lamest rule there is?”
“If we throw an epic party, it won’t be lame!” He leaned toward me. “An illegal, unsanctioned one held on campus in an official building. We provide incentive to make sure every sorority and fraternity member shows up. Then we bust them. The only deceitful part is the bait to lure them to the party, but once there, they’ll violate the rules on their own.”
Air whooshed from my lungs. It did sound pretty good.
“I have the plan all worked out. You’ll need to use your PR magic, starting with getting Genevieve on board and lying for us. And don’t worry, none of this will be traced back to us. What do you say?”
I reached to the end table and grabbed one of the notebooks lying there. “I’m all in.”
I STORMED INTO THE newspaper building first thing in the morning and relayed our idea to Genevieve. She didn’t even bat an eye. Simply picked up her phone and started making calls.
Even though she intimidated me—and even though I was jealous she’d once slept with Harrison while I hadn’t…yet—I had to admire her tenacity to facilitate a breaking news story. It was almost unfair that Harrison had secured himself and me internships at a prestigious newspaper because Genevieve deserved something more than running a lame college paper.
A few hours later, she stepped into the office Harrison and I once again shared, and we both perked up. He kept to his side of the room all morning and hadn’t made any advances toward me. I suspected he was laying low, giving me time to forgive him.
Genevieve rested a laptop on my desk, nudging my usual one aside to make room. “It’s all set. I’ve booked the banquet room at the Goldberg Alumni Center for seven o’clock. I’ll call the ‘official’ Newspaper Staff Party for nine. That gives you one hour for set up and another to make a scene.”
A scene that the newspaper staff will be shocked to find when they arrive for their party. A scene Genevieve will have no choice but to report.
“Thank you,” I whispered. It was the only way to secure an on campus room to host the party but without the party being traced back to me.
She patted the laptop. “I believe this has everything you asked for.”
Photoshop. Internet. And a hard drive that will be wiped completely when we’re finished.
“Now write me another killer story that gets national press coverage.” She smiled, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of us. “You two make a good team.” She winked.
Heat raced to my cheeks. She knew. I’d never considered her a threat for Harrison’s heart, but now I knew for sure she wasn’t. The only obstacle was my own damn stubbornness.
Once Genevieve left, I texted Mackenzie to come over and work her Photoshop magic.
An hour later she’d created a perfect replica of the Awards invitation, complete with the school seal thanks to Genevieve dropping off a box of official school letterhead.
The Greek Organization
Of
Throckmorton University
In association with
Dean Boheim
Request your presence
At the
First Annual
Greek Week Kick Off Party
Wednesday, October Twenty Third
Eight o’clock in the evening
Banquet Hall
Goldberg Alumni & Faculty Center
Mandatory
We set the party for Wednesday, a non-bar, non-party night to ensure most people could attend. It was my idea to make the attendance mandatory.
“Are we sure we don’t want to do Black Tie?” I pursed my lips at the final invitation.
Harrison rolled his eyes. “Let’s make this as easy as possible. But I’m not ruling out a private viewing of me in my tux if that’s what you’re angling for.”
My cheeks flamed. The printer whirred as it spat out a warm copy of the invite. I snatched it out and set it onto the pile going to Shaw dorm. Tonight, at three A.M., we’d be stuffing these into every single fraternity and sorority member’s mailbox. Best to do it during the cover of night while wearing sunglasses and hoodies.
Harrison and I both reached for the shopping cart at the same time, our pinky fingers brushing. He inched his hand closer; I snapped mine back. His other hand swung up and gripped the blue plastic bar with white knuckles. The cart bumped over the gravel parking lot, wheels squeaking.
I strode next to him, double checking the shopping list on my phone while he steered the cart through the produce aisle and plucked a bag of lemons and limes into the cart. The Out House pledges agreed unanimously to put their dues toward the party budget in the hopes of getting their house charter reinstated.
“What’s next?” His head swiveled to me but his eyes landed on my shoes. The always confident guy had lost his gusto in the wake of my most recent rejection.
I fought back a smile. In a way, it made him more endearing, watching him flounder. He was always used to getting his way and when he didn’t, he wasn’t sure how to operate.
“Cheese.”
We stopped in front of the Wegman’s cheese counter, which was more like a cheese sanctuary. A curdled milk smell invaded my nose. Rows of wrapped squares and pyramids of every shade of yellow waited behind a glass counter.
“I think you have to be more specific than that.” He picked up a wedge of havarti and turned it over. “We could go mild.” He stomped a few steps over and tossed a cylinder of gooey goat cheese in the air. “Medium.” His fingers searched the rows for an exotic square of blue cheese. “Or all out.”
“Get them all. This needs to appear classy.”
I held up a circle of Brie. “We’ll even get the good crackers.”
This party had to appear as if it had been put on by the budget of a college that drained the wallets of the rich. Not by broke ass college students balking at two dollar cover charges at Quigley’s.
An array of yellow shapes covered the bottom of the cart, followed by several packages of fancy crackers, ones with poppy seeds and rosemary seeded through. “Look at us being all domestic,” he said. “You know, if we sublet an apartment together over winter break, we could do something like this every night.”
The image popped in my mind, so vivid and bright, it was like it had always been there, just waiting to be called into existence. My body thrummed. “What about Lily? She’s all the way up here.”
“It’s not ideal, but it’s only for a few weeks. I’ll drive back up on weekends. With you, preferably.”
I glanced at the list. Drinks for mixers. Frozen hors d’oeuvres. Plastic cups—the ones that look like real glasses. Not anything made by Solo. “Harrison…” I whispered.
“Yes?” he sounded wary.
My feet itched to move closer to him. Just one tiny inch would press my chest against his. “Let’s just focus on the party, okay?” It was a coward’s way out. Stalling. A real test of patience.
He backed up a step, defeated.
The day of the party involved a choreography of stoves—Harrison’s, Corey’s, and mine—as well as midterms, which apparently were things we still needed to deal with, even after everything. Studying had meant I’d barely seen Harrison in the last few days, which was probably for the best. It seemed I lost control whenever I was in his presence. At least my textbooks didn’t get me all hot and bothered.
At seven P.M., we met up with Genevieve and a few other staff members from the newspaper so it wouldn’t seem odd that Harrison and I were the only ones there to set up. Silver trays of fancy finger foods covered an entire folding table, hovering above gaslit flames to keep them warm. Mini meatballs released steam, pink shrimp hung off the edge of a giant cocktail sauce bowl, and cheese cubes gathered sweat on the plate they circled.
“Holy shit, that’s way too much food,” Charlie Culpepper said after we’d set all the yummies out.
Genevieve’s lips quivered, which for her counted as a smile. “This is my way of thanking everyone for all their hard work.”
Harrison rolled in the giant silver keg that one of the over legal-to-drink editors had procured. “Where does this go?” he asked.
The younger staff members’ eyes bugged out.
Genevieve pressed a finger to her mouth, as if she were really considering. As if we hadn’t planned the layout in advance. She thrust an arm to an empty table in the center of the room. “On top of there, spigot out, but for God’s sake put down a white tablecloth first.”
“And the champagne?” Harrison pointed to a box waiting outside the door.
Genevieve nodded to an empty table on the opposite side of the rooms where several tin buckets filled with ice. “Here. But pop the corks first. And you can put the hard liquor next to the sodas and mixers.”
Charlie squinted, which was hard to do beneath his bushy eyebrows. “But the party’s not for another hour and a half. Won’t the champagne lose carbonation?”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Just a myth.”
I readjusted the plastic glasses, pushing them toward the edge of the table. Harrison dropped plates and napkins next to the finger food. Everything looked perfect.
Genevieve clapped her hands. “Good work, everyone. See you back here at nine sharp.”
As we all filed into the hallway, I made one last sweep to seemingly check that everything was in order. But really I was making sure all the surveillance devices we’d scattered throughout the room were in unobstructed locations. A few pens. Some of the circular ones stuck to high points on the ceiling. One aimed at the doorway to capture every single face that walked inside.
I switched on the iPod music player loaded with three thousand songs and strutted to the door, pulling it shut behind me and sealing in the sound. Everyone else had already headed for the stairs but Harrison waited just outside the door. He squeezed my hand as we bypassed the office we’d…um…violated. I pulled mine away, fast, and pressed it to my side to stop it from shaking. A blast of frigid air punched me in the face and whipped my hair around. I lifted a hand to wave goodbye to my colleagues and marched in the direction of my apartment. Harrison headed in the opposite direction.
But then circled back around the block to meet me on an empty street. “So far so good.” He held up his phone, swiping across the device with his tech gloves and showing me a view of every surveillance device.
“Now onto phase two. Getting ready.” I marched ahead of him a few paces.
He wiggled the phone at me, catching up. “I thought phase two was kicking back and watching the morons get in trouble.”
The unfortunate part of our plan to get the houses in trouble meant that Yours and Out House wouldn’t have been invited by the Greek Org. Which meant we couldn’t actually attend the party ourselves. Plus, if we were there, we’d never let the other houses destroy a party meant for the newspaper.
We had to be the ones to bust it.
But thankfully Fallon was still technically a member of the newly reinstated Rho Sigma. She was currently sitting in Layla’s living room, squeezing next to her other pledge sisters for proximity to the lone mirror to get ready. If there was any hesitation, she would be the first one to grab some liquor and encourage everyone to get the party started. She’d turned twenty-one right before the semester started so she would be exempt from any underage trouble.
I shivered when my boot hit a patch of snow. “That’s phase three.”
“Does phase two involve me watching you get ready?”
I stomped up my driveway and wrenched open the door. The TV blasted and an array of computers waited on the coffee table. “Nope.” I flourished my hand to Harrison’s makeshift work station. “Make yourself at home. Down here.” I patted a tote box filled with rare Mangas, including the Hinotori he already perused. “There’s some reading material to help you pass the time.”
He swooped for the books inside as if they might fly away before he could read them. I strutted upstairs and put on the sexiest dress I owned. And okay, I also put on matching black lace underwear. Just in case.
FIVE OF US WERE squeezed onto our tiny gray couch, all leaning toward Harrison’s array of laptops. The clock struck eight and we all blinked as if the screen would magically be filled with drunk party-goers. Our lungs stilled, collective breaths held. A full minute passed. Then another.
“This is lame.” Corey hopped from the couch, causing a domino effect where we all cascaded over. My knee pressed hard against Harrison’s leather clad one. He glanced over at me and his mouth fell open once again, the way it had been doing every time his eyes caught on my dress. I’d been purposefully avoiding looking at him in those pants, which he’d changed into in the bathroom.
Mackenzie leaped up and gripped Corey’s hand. “It’s okay. Don’t freak out if it doesn’t work. We’ll figure something else out.”
Another minute passed. Then five.
I laced my fingers with Harrison’s and squeezed. This seemed like our last resort, the final stand against our enemy, but part of me felt like we’d already won. Sure, I would never be able to put President of my sorority on my resumé but I had so much else to fill it with already. Including my internship at the New York Times. But of course Harrison needed to prove himself with another cutting edge piece or else the NYT would move onto their next leading candidate.
“Oh! Look!” Erin leaned into the screen. “People!”
Sure enough a flood of people entered the room. Fallon was number ten to arrive. Everyone looked around, confused. A few approached the alcohol warily, sniffing it as if to verify it was real. A few guys from DEKE beelined for the mini meatballs and started filling their plates. Th
ere was no sound, but the shrug of Fallon’s shoulders gave us enough of a gist that she was reciting her signature line from the pre-written script. Let’s drink as much as we can before the officials arrive! She plucked one of the champagne bottles out of the ice bucket and poured a heaping glass.
She passed that glass to one of her soon-to-be-sisters and continued pouring until she’d exhausted one entire bottle of champagne in a matter of seconds. She offered the last cup to Layla who shook her head and crossed her arms. Layla wasn’t stupid enough to make a drinking mistake.
But she was stupid enough to stay in the room.
Ten minutes later the party was bustling. Every few seconds, people looked around confused, and I watched as Fallon swooped in and offered a practiced explanation to their likely concern. “The officials are probably just running late. Maybe they want to wait until everyone’s here to start. It did say mandatory, right?” She lifted her glass in mock toast. “Whatever, I’m going to keep drinking until people show up.”
Holly knocked glasses with Nate and Dale, who’d waltzed into the party holding hands. Corey had let Nate in on the secret and Nate took on the same role as Fallon, moving through the room and deceiving people. He and Dale were both legal to drink.
Harrison lifted his pen from his pad. “And that’s officially at least one person from every house.”
I hopped to my feet. “I’d say it’s time to go bust this thing then?”
Harrison stood up and shrugged on his jacket. “I’m ready to make hundreds of enemies.”
My stomach sank at that thought but I punched my arms into my jacket, blew kisses to my friends, and shrugged on my purse. A toothbrush jiggled inside along with deodorant. I wasn’t planning on coming home tonight.
Gloves coated both our hands but Harrison still managed to clutch his fingers within mine. My heart thundered in my chest as our feet clacked on the snowy sidewalks. I skidded on a patch of ice and Harrison steadied me. “Nervous?” he asked.