#Nerd (Hashtag #1)
Page 3
“Rule four,” I said, ignoring the funny way he made me feel. “No charm at all.”
“I can’t help it, Rimmie.” His intensely azure eyes roamed over my face like he was looking at me for the first time. “It’s so easy to make you blush.”
I hit away his hand. “Rule five: Do not call me Rimmie.” Ugh, he was irritating!
He chuckled and sat back. “Fine. Now, can we get to work?” he asked, pointing at his paper.
“No,” I snapped. “Tutoring is over for today.”
“But what about this assignment?” he whined.
“Here’s a thought,” I said as I snatched my bag and stood. “Sit here and do it.”
I started to stalk away, nearly tripping over my half-untied shoelace.
He laughed beneath his breath, and I thought about kicking him.
“Rimmel,” he said. I stopped and turned. “See you day after tomorrow.”
I rushed outside into the cold autumn air and dragged in great gulps of the crisp atmosphere. He was absolutely infuriating! Full of himself. Arrogant. Far too pretty.
He was terrible!
This was going to be torture!
So then why was I already anticipating our next study session?
Chapter Four
Romeo
The disruptive gleam of a too bright light broke into my deep sleep. Annoyed, I grabbed a pillow and pulled it over my head.
“Get up,” someone said from above and poked me in the ribs.
I jack-knifed up; the pillow flung off the bed. The intense beam from a flashlight glared in my sleep-heavy eyes and I threw up my hand to shield my face.
“What the hell?” I muttered.
The covers tangled around my legs were ripped free and cool air rushed over my bare skin. Before I knew what was happening, a bag of some kind was tossed over my head and hands pulled me up out of the bed.
Adrenaline surged through my body, making my heart rate accelerate tenfold. All my muscles tensed and the person still grabbing my arm paused.
“You got the note, right?” he whispered.
A couple other voices broke out behind the guy who spoke, telling him to shut up and no talking was allowed.
Relief poured through my system. This was the frat. I should have known right away.
I nodded, and the hand on my arm jerked me forward. “I need clothes!” I hollered when we passed through the door of my place and out into the cold night air.
Everyone was snickering. “Not where you’re going,” someone said.
I was dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. Sometimes I slept naked. Thank God I hadn’t last night. The last thing I needed was my boys flapping in this chilly-ass air on the way to some undisclosed location.
“Nice digs,” someone said from behind me as I was led through the backyard of my parent’s place and toward wherever they were parked.
It was nice, better than nice in fact, and it was also the exact reason I lived at home and not on campus. Well, technically, I lived at home, but not with my parents. I lived in the pool house behind the main house. It was a one-story building that my mother designed to look like a cottage on the outside. The siding was white, the shutters black, and the front door red with a gold knocker on the front.
The pool house was basically a spacious one-bedroom apartment. It had a full eat-in kitchen, a big living room, and a gym so I could train.
There were shrubs and rose bushes planted along the front and several windows that looked out onto the huge pool. The pool house might have been my mother’s project, but the pool was my father’s.
It was huge and looked like a lagoon. He had large rocks imported from who the hell knew where and underwater lighting to make the aqua-colored water light up. It was the kind of pool you could walk right into; the water was as shallow as your ankles but gradually declined all the way to eight feet deep. There was also a small waterfall at the deep end.
We only lived about fifteen minutes from campus and they didn’t make me pay rent. It was a sweet deal.
I heard the creak of the gate on the fence and then my bare feet sank into the cold, damp grass. My skin broke out with goose bumps and inside the burlap bag, I grinned because at least I wouldn’t have to be worried about sporting a morning wood.
I wondered what time it was when they shoved me into the back of a car and took off down the street. I couldn’t see anything beyond the bag, but it still seemed dark. The brown fabric would look lighter if the sun was up.
And of course, they wouldn’t have needed a flashlight in my room.
The car went over a huge bump in the road and I was tossed to the side, my bare arm slapping against someone whose arm was also bare. I jerked upright as the person beside me stiffened and everyone around us laughed. I assumed then it was another pledge.
It didn’t take long to get to wherever they were taking us and we were being herded out of the car and led through more cold, damp grass.
It sounded like another gate was banging open, and then I was being shoved in my back.
“Better watch your step,” a guy said with clear amusement.
My feet left the grass and met with something hard, like concrete, and the guy who sort of helped me out earlier by telling me who they were leaned in to whisper low, “Steps.”
I didn’t acknowledge that he said anything because I figured he wasn’t supposed to tell me.
My suspicions were proven when I heard what sounded like someone falling and a bunch of guys laughing. “We got a clumsy one on our hands!”
My steps slowed and I cautiously moved forward, anticipating the first step. A finger poked me in the back just as my foot met air. I stepped down and concentrated on getting down the stairs, which seemed really steep.
As I went, I counted them. There were seven. The air down here was cold, maybe colder than outside, and the floor was still made of some hard material that was rough like concrete.
About thirty steps into the room, we were ordered by a new voice to halt. I stopped and turned toward where I heard the sound.
“The past is just that,” the voice intoned. “It’s in the past; it’s now irrelevant. You’re reborn tonight, starting a whole new chapter in your life!”
Some of the guys whooped their agreement. I remained silent.
“And so you will begin this new life the way you were brought into it!” he said.
What the hell did that mean?
After a few beats of silence, he yelled, “Strip! Come on, get nekid!”
Grumbling from both sides of me filled the air, but I grinned and reached for the waistband of my boxers. Once they were off, I held them in front of my junk, almost like a shield, but stood casually.
Seconds later, the bag on my head was ripped off and I blinked, focusing on the room.
The only lighting came from what had to be at least fifty large candles lit around the room. There were about ten pledges to my right and left, all of us naked.
I looked the best.
Of course.
In front of us was the president of the Alpha Omega fraternity, and of course he was fully clothed. Some of the other frat members all stood behind us in a row, and I glanced around to see who was behind me. My eyes connected with one of the running backs on the team, and he gave me a very subtle what up gesture.
I knew it was him who had helped me with the stairs. We were teammates. Brothers. We looked out for each other. And me falling and getting injured would seriously piss off the coach.
“For some of you losers…” The guy who ordered us to get naked spoke. He was the frat president, Zach Bettinger. He was a senior here. Some said he was going to make it to the White House one day. “This is as close as you’ll get to this frat. Some of you just won’t make the cut. Don’t let it get you down, boys. Some of you just aren’t good enough.”
What a douche.
“Being here doesn’t mean you’re in.” He went on, his eyes colliding with mine. Even in the low lighting
of the candles, I saw the emotion that flared when he looked at me. This guy didn’t like me.
Noted.
“It means you’ve been given a chance. A prayer, if you will.” He spread his hands. “To join the most exclusive, most epic fraternity ever.”
Cheers went up behind me. I grinned.
“What you do next will determine if you have what it takes to get in.”
“What do we have to do?” the guy next to me asked.
Zach stopped and stared at him. “You think you can hack it?”
“I know I can.” He smirked.
“All right.” Zach motioned at the line of pledges. “Take a good look, boys. This here is your competition for the next month.”
A month of pledging? That was insane.
We all looked around. I noticed a couple of the lingering stares sent in my direction. I was used to it. My football background, my parents’ connections, and my looks earned me a sort of campus celebrity status. It was one of the reasons I was surprised I hadn’t been allowed to pledge last year.
“During the next few weeks, you will be sent tasks either by note or text that you will need to complete. You don’t need to tell us you completed them. We’ll know.” Zach glanced at me again. “We’re always watching.”
I stared back at him. He didn’t intimidate me, and I was pretty sure he was trying to.
He glanced away, pacing in front of the flickering candles. I glimpsed around. It seemed like we were in a cave of some sort. But it wasn’t a place that was unused. The walls were unfinished, but there were throw rugs on the floor, leather club chairs and furniture around. Behind the candles, I could make out what looked like a pool table. Maybe this was some sort of club or hangout for the frat.
“You have twenty-four hours to complete a task once it is given. If you don’t, you’re out. No exceptions.”
That didn’t seem so bad. I could handle it, no problem.
“There’s one other thing,” Zach called, drawing back our attention. “You’ll have the entire month, just up until you’re inducted into the frat.”
The guys behind us snickered.
“Get a girl into bed—have sex with her.”
I felt myself smirk. He thought I needed a month for that?
I guess some of the other guys thought it was going to be easy because Zach grinned and held up his hand to silence all the boasting going around. “But not just any girl. We’ll be choosing for you.”
Ah, well, wasn’t this interesting?
Still, I wasn’t worried. I hadn’t yet met a girl I couldn’t charm.
From down the line, someone said, “It seems like some of us might have an unfair advantage.”
All eyes turned to me.
I grinned and shrugged.
I felt Zach’s stare so I looked his way. “Not to worry. This will be a challenge for everyone.”
I grinned wider. Bring it on.
“One other thing. Get proof once it’s done. A photo. You’ll be texted a number where you will text the picture.”
The bag I was wearing when I entered the room was shoved back over my head.
“Get the hell out of here,” Zach said like the sight of us underlings was making him sick.
We all shuffled back up the steep stairs and into the chilly air. So for the next month, I was to complete random challenges, sleep with a woman they selected, and take a picture as proof.
I thought rushing a frat was supposed to be hard.
The guys brought me back to my place and guided me into the backyard. I was pretty sure this wasn’t the same guy as before (my teammate) because he was a lot rougher and silent.
A few steps past the gate into the back he grabbed me roughly, making me stumble before I righted myself. He grabbed the bag over my head and yanked it away. I had two seconds to notice the spray-painted symbol of the frat on my front door before I was shoved forward.
The ground beneath my feet fell away and I felt my eyes widen as the crystal clear water of the pool rushed closer.
Fuck!
My body plunged into the depths and shock rendered my lungs frozen. My entire body jolted from the low temperature. The pool heater was currently not on, so I was left with the icy fingers of the water scraping me all the way to my bones.
My foot hit the bottom of the pool and I shoved up, rushing toward the dark surface. My head cleared the water and I dragged in a heavy breath. It was so cold it hurt to breathe.
I spun around to cuss out whoever shoved me in here, but the yard was empty.
I pulled myself out of the pool and quickly rushed inside, past the crudely painted symbol on the door, and into the bathroom where I turned the shower on as hot as it would go.
I looked in the mirror as I waited for the water to heat. My skin was red and splotchy from the cold and my lips were almost colorless, just like my fingers.
Let the initiation begin.
Chapter Five
Rimmel
I showed up early and stayed late.
There was just something about this place that I needed extra of today.
Well, I knew what it was. The consistency, the fact that I knew what to expect here. I knew what I was getting when I walked in the door.
Animals were so much better than people. They didn’t expect anything, they didn’t judge, and they were real all the time. I loved the honesty animals lived by. Nothing about them was fake. They showed how they were feeling without apology.
It was why I wanted to become a veterinarian. I wanted to give back everything I’d been given. I wanted to be their voice when they couldn’t speak. I wanted to be the friend they always were. I wanted the ability to make them feel better when they were sick.
I wasn’t good with people… but animals… animals were my passion.
Once I was finished mopping the back room, I emptied out the bucket and set everything in place to dry. I flicked off the lights and wandered into the room where we kept all the cats.
Metal crates lined the walls, some stacked together. The floors were made of white tile and the walls were painted white as well. Posters of animals lined the walls along with some other images of celebrities that supported animal rescue. Against the far wall were a bunch of cabinets that held food and supplies for the cats.
Cats weren’t quite as open with their affection as dogs, but it was something I understood. Cats remained aloof and reserved; they were very independent. They liked to study people; they liked to really know who they were dealing with before they got too close. Some cats never bothered to get too close to anyone.
Life taught me to be the same way.
In the corner of the room, on the bottom of the stack of cages, was Murphy. He was curled up in the corner of his home with his face tucked into the curve of his body. I sank down onto the floor in front of the door, unlatching it and swinging it open.
He perked up his head and stared at me, the light green of his eye was always the focus against his midnight fur.
It was even more a focal point because there was only one.
Murphy came to the shelter badly injured and malnourished. He lost his left eye shortly after. No one was ever sure what happened to him. That was over a year ago. He was no longer too thin and frail. His fur wasn’t dull and matte, but sleek and shiny. The left side of his face was intact, but where there should be a large green eye, there wasn’t. The skin and fur had been stitched together where it healed. And in place of his eye was a curved sort of line, a scar, but it was covered with hair.
“Hey, Murphy,” I said softly, holding out my hand for him to smell.
He touched the tip of his cool nose to my finger and I smiled. Keeping my actions deliberate, I slid my fingers up onto his head and scratched behind his ear. The sound of deep purring filled the space around us, and I smiled.
“Sorry I didn’t come by yesterday,” I told him. “I have to tutor someone at school. He’s going to be a real pain in the butt.”
Murphy yawned and p
ulled away from my scratches.
I smiled. He was as bored by Romeo as I was. ‘Course, if I were honest, Romeo didn’t really bore me. That was one of the reasons I dreaded going there so much.
The cage above Murphy was empty. “Looks like your neighbor got adopted,” I said.
Michelle, one of the shelter employees, came in behind me. “Yep, earlier today.”
“That’s great,” I said. It was the primary goal of this shelter to care for animals but ultimately find them permanent and loving homes.
But no one ever wanted Murphy.
Maybe it was why I loved him so much. I felt sort of an odd connection with the cat no one wanted. He didn’t fit the image of a good family cat. He was blackest of black, which made it harder for him in the first place. Black pets were always the last to get adopted. Maybe because they didn’t appear as friendly and cuddly as the others. Maybe because they looked a little dangerous… and maybe it was because of the stigma that black cats brought bad luck.
But even when someone got past the color of his fur, they would notice the scar and missing eye. He appeared damaged. He appeared to have had a rough life (which, yeah, maybe he had), and no one wanted to deal with damaged. It made them uncomfortable.
So Murphy was continuously bypassed. He was ignored. He’d lived in that cage for the last year as all the other cats came and went.
If I didn’t live in a dorm, I would have already taken him home with me.
“What are you still doing here?” Michelle asked as she bustled around the room.
I gave Murphy one last stroke and then latched the door and stood. “I wanted to spend some extra time cleaning in the back. It was a mess.”
Michelle smiled. “You’re the only college student I know who would rather clean than hang out with her friends.”
That’s because I didn’t have any friends.
“Did Sarah tell you that I wouldn’t be here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for a while?” I asked, ignoring her statement and the hollow feeling it gave me inside.