by Laura Ward
THE PLEDGE
by
Laura Ward & Christine Manzari
The Pledge
Copyright © 2015 by Laura Ward and Christine Manzari
Cover Design by: Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations
Cover Photo by: Vania Stoyanova
Cover Models: Jordan Verroi and Fawn Coba
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictiously. The authors acknowledge the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
A Year Later - Sophomore Year
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Color of Us Excerpt
Author Links
Dear Reader
Acknowledgements
About the Authors
Dedication
To Christine’s Gymkana friends and Laura’s Alpha Omicron Pi sisters for making our college experiences unforgettable.
And to anyone who has ever felt unworthy or less than. Each of us is unique and the most important pledge we can make is to believe in ourselves.
Chapter One
TAREN
“Hello ladies!” A booming voice echoed down the dormitory hallway. Denton, an eight-story, concrete block of a building, would be my home-away-from-home for the next year.
Popping her head out of our minuscule closet, my roommate, Alexis, blew a strand of blonde hair away from her eyes. “What on earth?” She shot me a questioning look.
I shrugged and peeked out our door.
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” A guy with perfectly styled, gelled hair called out with a laugh. He opened up his arms and curled his fingers in a come-hither motion. “Come to Daddy!”
My mouth fell open. A group of guys strolled down the hall in their cargo shorts and trendy T-shirts as if they owned the place. They were definitely not freshman.
Their leader headed toward me with a cocky swagger. A whistle hung from his neck. I bit back a smile as Aunt Claire’s departing words of wisdom popped into my head. Have fun and get into trouble. I chewed on my lower lip. I was clueless in those departments, but something told me I was about to be schooled in both of them.
Tweeeeeeetttt! The guy in front blew the whistle and then let it dangle from his lips. He pointed in my direction and waggled his eyebrows. For a split second, a warm blush touched my cheeks, but then reality dawned on me. Certain he wasn’t singling me out, I looked over my shoulder to see if Alexis was behind me. She wasn’t. I turned back around and gave him a coy smile, trying to play it cool.
“Party tonight.” His eyes scanned my body from top to bottom. “I want YOU there.” My stomach dropped to the floor, and my hand casually covered my gaping mouth. Be cool Taren.
He handed me a flyer with a picture of a rundown house and a handwritten address. Plastered all over the paper was the word: BEER.
I tilted my head to the side. Well, then.
“Me?” I questioned, pointing at my chest and looking around again.
Whistle-blower ran his finger down the side of my arm, causing goose bumps to rise to the surface. “Of course you, darlin’. I’m Doug.” My heart raced in my chest. “Party tonight at my fraternity house. Bring your friends. I’ll be looking for you.” He pointed to the address on the paper and walked backward when his friend called his name. “Don’t let me down. Be there.”
What? My face flushed, and I stared at the paper in my trembling hands. Doug wanted me at his party. I lifted my eyes and watched the guys stalking down the hallway. A sense of excitement filled me. I couldn’t help but think that maybe trouble would find me after all.
“Dorm storming.” Gum snapped loudly to end the sentence. A petite pixie crossed the hall to me. Her dark brown bob swayed like she was a fashion model. “Julie.” She extended her hand and snapped her gum again. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Taren. Nice to meet you, too.” I propped my foot on the wall behind me and looked down the hall. “What is dorm storming?”
Julie joined me on the wall. “My cousin is in a frat back home in Pennsylvania. The fraternity guys race to the freshman dorms on move-in day and recruit people to come to their parties. They want the best guys to come, party with them, and then rush their frat. They also need the hottest girls at their parties because, duh, the hot girls are where the guys want to be.”
“Oh.” I looked back down at the flyer, and my excitement evaporated. “So why did he give me this?” Frowning, I handed it to her. “Was he just messing with me?” Taren Richards did not get invited to parties.
Julie jerked her head up and narrowed her eyes. “Are you for real?” She leaned back and gestured at my body with her hand. “Um, because you’re hawt.”
I opened my mouth ready to argue with her, but before I uttered a word, I snapped it shut.
Fresh start. New beginning. No one knows me here. That was the promise I had made to myself during summer break.
I looked down at the flyer once again and nodded with a hesitant smile. College was my chance to start over. No more fear. No more stereotypes. I could be whoever I wanted to be, and for once, I wanted to be the hawt girl.
***
Julie bounced down on Alexis’ bed and almost landed in her lap. “Drink up.” She handed me the bottle of rum. Her words were a dare. “Liquid courage.”
I hesitated, trying to decide if I had the nerve to be different, outgoing, or even fun.
Live a little, Taren. Aunt Claire’s words on our ride to campus rang in my ears. This is college. These will be the best four years of y
our life. Enjoy them.
I sniffed the liquor in the bottle I clutched. Oh my god. The vapors burned my nostrils. There was no way it was going down the hatch easily. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, hoping for the best. The sweet, yet fiery, liquid ran down my throat before I could chicken out. I swallowed a large gulp as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and then I coughed.
“Holy shit, T. That was amazeballs!” Julie laughed, and I passed Alexis the bottle with a grimace.
“I need this tonight,” Alexis murmured and gulped down a large swig like a champ.
I was surprised both by the way Alexis swallowed the rum and that she had even agreed to come to the party with us. She had mentioned a boyfriend back home. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a large breath, and a smile spread across her face. She seemed almost relieved that we would be leaving the dorm.
Julie had planned our entire night. She went online and found the campus bus schedule. After studying the map, she found the route that would get us close to fraternity row. Somehow she had also managed to find a hook up for our pre-gaming beverage. Donning a micro-mini skirt, wedge heels, and a tube top, Julie was more than ready to enter the Greek party scene.
She passed the half empty bottle back to me. A warm buzz was already coursing through me. I drank again.
Julie leaned back. “So, going out to a party on the first night of college is a big deal. I feel like we need to get to know each other better.” Julie straightened up, mischief written all over her face. “Let’s play a drinking game. We’ll take turns asking questions. When you answer, you have to take a drink.” We nodded, and my lips spread into a wide grin. I handed the bottle back to her. By that point, my thoughts were a bit scattered and fuzzy, but pleasant.
“What was it like the first time you had sex?” Julie held the bottle under my face like a microphone, and I could feel my voice lodging in my throat, refusing to play along. How could I possibly answer the question without embarrassing myself?
“Okay, I’ll go first. Mine was bad. I gave it up to my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend. I waited until my senior year to do the deed, and then it lasted all of two point five seconds. I didn’t even have a chance to realize he was in before it was over. What a waste.” She shook her head in disgust. Julie pressed the bottle to her lips and tilted it back, taking a large sip. She made a hissing sound through her teeth, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then handed the bottle to Alexis.
Alexis bit her lip and studied the bottle. “I haven’t actually had sex yet.” She took a drink and then looked up at us, her face bright red. She straightened her shoulders. “I love Liam, but we’ve been through a lot together. I’m not ready to complicate things. Then there’s the fact that my parents hate him.” She looked at the picture of her and Liam on her dresser. They were shockingly different. Night and day. Good and bad. Not that I knew that with any certainty or anything, but they certainly looked the part. She was dressed all in white. White jeans, tiny white sweater, her long blonde hair in curls. He was in all black. Tight black T-shirt, black jeans, black metal studded cuffs on his wrists, black sunglasses, and dark spiky hair. They looked like polar opposites.
“What are you waiting for?” Julie snatched the picture off the dresser to study it. “He’s some mean-looking eye candy, sister. I’ve heard the bad boys are a little rough, but in a good way.” She elbowed Alexis, and I laughed.
Alexis shrugged and drank again. “Long story for another time. I’m just not ready yet.” She handed me the bottle.
I was glad we were in the same boat. I would have been embarrassed if I was the only virgin. “Same here. I’m still a virgin. I just haven’t met the right guy, I guess.” Liar. I hadn’t met any guy. Not a single one who was interested. Whistle-blowing Doug was the first attention I’d ever garnered for anything other than ridicule. So yeah, I was a virgin, but not exactly by choice. I took a drink and thought of a question since it was my turn. I didn’t want to be too heavy, but I was curious. “What are you most afraid of?”
Julie looked contemplative, so I handed the bottle to Alexis.
“Easy one for me. I’m terrified of a lot of things, but I’d say I’m most scared of letting my parents down. I’m an only child. They have high hopes for me. I don’t want to fail them.” She took a long pull from the bottle, shuddering as she handed it back to me.
The psychology geniuses who wrote the personality quiz used to match roommates in college were spot on. “I think we were meant to be roommates.” I smiled at her and blew out a breath. “I’m most scared of regrets. I left high school with so many things I wish I’d done differently and chances I wish I’d been brave enough to take.” I sipped the rum and cleared my throat, the alcohol burning on the way down. “No more. The next four years will be about taking the steps to be who I want to be. No excuses.”
Julie yelled out, “Hell yeah!” She grabbed the bottle and leaned in close to us. “Listen girls, after I answer the question, we need to jet. We’re just the right amount of tipsy, and we’ll be right on time to be fashionably late.” She lowered her voice and she waved us closer, as if she didn’t want anyone to overhear her confession. “Want to know my biggest fear?”
Alexis and I both nodded.
“I have microphobia.” Julie took a drink and closed her eyes like she’d just revealed a terrible secret.
I looked at Alexis, and she shrugged, so I asked, “What’s microphobia?”
Julie opened her eyes, her expression grave. “The fear of tiny things. I’m terrified of miniature dogs, fun-sized candy bars, mini-muffins, those little nightmares known as micro machines my nephew always leaves lying around...”
“What about the mini skirt you’re wearing?” I pointed out, sure that she was trying to be funny.
“No, no. Clothes are fine. It has to be something genuinely mini.” Her eyes opened wide and in all seriousness she asked, “Do you want to know what mini thing I fear the most?”
Alexis and I nodded.
“Tiny dicks,” she whispered.
I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the girl talk, but for the first time in my life, I couldn’t stop laughing.
I never wanted to stop.
Chapter Two
ALEC
The black Escalade pulled away from the curb, and my mother turned in her seat to wave to me through the back window. I expected the sight of my father’s taillights to give me a sense of freedom, but the weight of his expectations was still heavy on my mind.
Prove yourself, Alec. Make me forget last year ever happened.
I took a deep breath, forcing his parting words out of my thoughts. Before the SUV was out of sight, I turned and made my way toward the dorm. Something about turning my back on him and his threats gave me a sense of victory.
I jogged up the steps to find a girl with a UMD T-shirt and hipster glasses struggling to get two suitcases through the back door.
I rushed over and grabbed one from her. “Need help?”
“Oh, thanks,” she said. When she looked up and met my eyes, she blushed and gave me a shy smile. I was used to the effect my looks had on girls. Instead of offering her one of my flirty lines, I held the door open for her. I wasn’t in the mood to be charming right now.
She pulled her suitcase through the entrance, bumping it into the doorjamb and almost falling over in her eagerness. Reaching out to steady her, I smiled for a moment, reminded of another shy, anxious girl. My smile disappeared when I remembered that same girl was the reason for my father’s last warning.
I helped hipster girl get her stuff to the elevator. Before she could give me her name, I found a set of stairs and took them two at a time up to room 7220, my new home.
I slammed the door shut and then collapsed on my bed, kicking an unopened package of sheets to the floor.
I hadn’t met my roommate yet, and he was stretched out on his bed, completely at ease. His side of the room was organized and unpacked as if he’d moved in months ago. My side
was littered with piles of brand new things for my dorm room and boxes that were still taped shut.
My roommate looked up from the TV and raised an eyebrow at me. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, sunshine?” He had a spoon in one hand and a white can in the other as he nodded toward the door.
I put my hands behind my head and chuckled. “My parents.” Mostly it was my old man. He spent the entire ride to campus detailing what lecture series he expected me to attend and the connections I needed to be making. Alexander Hart, Sr. had grand plans. He was raising a Senator, after all. “I’m Alec.” I leaned up on my elbow and held out my hand.
My roommate shoved the spoon in his mouth and wiped his palm on his shirt before extending his hand to me. “Caz,” he said around the spoon. He shook my hand and then sat back on his bed.
Caz? That wasn’t the name of the guy on my room assignment. This guy had to be in the wrong room. I reached for my backpack and pulled out the stack of welcome-to-campus shit I’d been sent.
“They must have sent me the wrong paperwork.” I found the paper I was looking for and double-checked the name. “It says here my roommate is—”
Caz jumped up, darting across the space between our beds to rip the sheet out of my hand. “Forget you ever saw that.” He shredded the paper. “Dude. If you ever tell anyone what my real name is, I will make your life a living hell.” He pointed the spoon at me like a weapon.
I put my hands up in mock defense, laughing. “Caz it is.” If I had his first name, I’d go by Caz, too.
He tossed the tiny pieces of paper into the trash and returned to his bed. “The ‘rents gone?”
“Finally.” I grabbed the pillow still wrapped in plastic and folded it under my head. I took a good look around at the mess on my side of the room. My mom would lose her shit if she saw it, but I kind of liked the clutter.
Caz’s attention was back on some CrossFit competition he’d been watching on TV. “So what is it? Are they pushy or clingy?”
“Both.” I stretched my legs and then crossed them at my ankles. “My dad is a hotshot lawyer. He likes being in control of everything. My mom is the one who has a hard time letting go.” I took a deep breath, remembering how my father had to coerce her out of her goodbye hug. “The curse of being an only child, I guess.”
