Craved: A Chosen Ones Novel

by Davenport, Nia

“Thanks,” I said again.

  I left the dining room and settled into one of the big, comfy suede recliners in the theatre room. A projector screen the actual size of one you’d see in a movie theatre hung in front of them. I picked up the remote and turned it and the cable box on, flipping through the channels. I settled on reruns of Gossip Girl, one of my all time favorite shows. And yes, I know how contradictory that sounds when I was from a blue blood family myself and rejected everything about it and being a socialite. Still, the constant drama and antics the main characters found themselves in was always entertaining to watch. And Nate and Chuck were too hot not to look at on a weekly basis.

  Before I could really get into the episode where Blair loses her virginity to Chuck in a limo at the end, my phone rang.

  “What’s up!” I said by way of greeting.

  “Funny. You don’t sound sick,” a familiar male voice laced with skepticism said over the line.

  What the fuck, I mouthed silently. I yanked the phone away from my ear and stared at its lit screen. The number that sprawled across it was an unfamiliar are code and damn it why hadn’t I looked at the caller ID before I answered it. I’d assumed it was Whitney calling me back from when I texted her. My grandmother was out of town and my grandfather was working. She should have been the only reason my phone rang.

  I coughed into the phone’s speaker then brought it back to my ear. “Well I am.” I tried to distort my voice, making it sound raspier and speaking low into the phone.

  A beat ticked between us. “Okay, well feel better,” he drawled. “This is my number. Save it so the next time I call you’ll know who it is before you pick up.”

  I pictured his lips twitching in amusement, in line with what I heard in his voice. Then I heard the click of an end button being pressed.

  I cursed and typed Chase above his number. Next time I’d see his name and know not to answer it.

  My phone rang again and I wisely looked at the screen before picking up. It was the person I’d been expecting the first time.

  “What’s up Alex? How come you’re at your grandparents house until the weekend?” She sounded just as suspicious as Chase had, but for a different reason. Whitney knew how much I preferred being in my own space and usually out of the confining one of theirs. It wasn’t their actual house that was the problem as much as it was the suffocating world that it represented and that came with being so close within my grandmother’s reach.

  “Nothing. I’m just not feeling too well and I wanted some of Ingrid’s soup.” I went with the same lie I’d told everyone else. I wasn’t yet ready to fess up to her about the real reason I wasn’t at our apartment. I needed to mentally prepare for the badgering that would undoubtedly follow it.

  “Uh huh, sure,” she snorted. “Do you being there have anything to do with Chase? What happened after the Fox? Did y’all do it and now you’re hiding from him?”

  What in the hell? Was she psychic or something? She always hit the nail on the head with her conclusions about the reasons behind my actions.

  “No we did not do it.” It was the truth. We only almost did it. Kind of. “And you know by saying do it we sound like we’re back in high school right?”

  She laughed into the phone. “Whatever. I was trying to be sensitive to your born again virgin ears.”

  “Like you ever bother any other time?”

  “True,” said still laughing.

  I laughed too. And damn it felt good to do so. It made me feel a little less heavy.

  “Since you are sick,” I imagined her making air quotation marks with her fingers when she stressed the word, “does that mean you’re not working either?”

  “Yes, why?” I asked cautiously. She sounded like she was up to something.

  “Because I have this rush thing to go to and—“

  “Oh no. Absolutely not,” I cut her off before she could finish the question. It was something she’d been trying to persuade me to do with her since Freshman year. I declined then and I was declining now. “I am not doing it. So if you have been waiting on me to change my mind, stop, or you will never rush. It’ll be a college experience you miss out on.”

  “Come on, please Alex. It’ll be fun. And good for you. You need to socialize with people more and stop being such a damn introvert all the time. Think about all the parties, and sexy guys, and fun events.”

  “I am. Which is exactly why I am saying no.”

  “Okay fine,” she sighed exaggeratedly into the phone. I knew she rolled her eyes as she did so. “You don’t have to rush with me. But can you at least come to informational event with me tonight? I don’t know anybody that will be there and it will make me feel less awkward. Besides, you owe me. The guy I’ve been secretly in love with since the sixth grade is the guy you are supposed to end up marrying.”

  She played her ace in the hole. The one thing she could hold over my head to make me cave to almost anything. She’d crushed on Ben throughout all of middle school and throughout all of high school. She had even hooked up with him a time or two.

  But Ben’s family and my family had ties to put it mildly and my grandmother had been scheming since I’d graduated high school to make us a matched pair. He was her hand picked perfect husband for me. I had nothing to do with my grandmother’s actions and no control over her outlandish ideas. I didn’t even like Ben all that much. He was too perfect to the extent that it made him perfectly boring. Still, I felt guilty about it and whenever Whitney brought it up I always caved in to whatever she was using it against me to get.

  “Fine,” I mumbled. “I will go. But I am not rushing. Alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I hear you. The informational starts at 8:30. Can you make it to the Kappa Lambda house by then?”

  I groaned, smacking my forehead with my hand. Why me? “Yeah, I think I can.”

  “Alex,” Whitney caught me before I hung up the phone.

  “What?”

  “Do not wear jeans or sneakers.”

  I snorted.

  “I’m serious. Please, for me?”

  “Okay, okay. I won’t.”

  We hung up and I dragged myself out of the recliner to make good on the promise I’d just made. I clicked the episode of Gossip Girl off, the irony not at all being missed on me that I was headed into a situation that would mirror the world on the screen. It would be like Gossip Girl and Greek had a monstrosity of a baby. I shuddered at the thought but kept moving up the stairs anyway. I had forty minutes to find something to wear and make it back to campus.

  Whitney waited for me outside of the sorority’s house. Emory’s Fraternity Row, the strip of street that all of the Greek Fraternity and Sorority houses stretched along, was nearly empty except for the random coed coming or going from one of them. It was a Monday night so the lack of a crowd wasn’t unusual. The Row was pretty quiet Monday through Wednesday, with much of the fraternities’ and sororities’ business being conducted inside their houses. It wasn’t until Thursday rolled around, when the weekend officially began for undergrads, that all of the parties and drunken crowds of people jumping from house to house kicked off.

  “You look nice.” She said it like she was actually surprised I’d complied with her request and not worn jeans and my favorite pair of Nikes.

  I would have. I really, really wanted to. But I decided to throw her a boon and play nice. I dressed in a charcoal colored pencil skit and a pink polo shirt instead. I even wore high heels because while they were not my preferred shoe of choice, the girly part of me gawked at not pairing skirts with them on the rare occasions that I wore them.

  “You do too. But then again, when do you not.” She wore a deep purple high-waisted skirt with a gold blouse and matching heels. Her skin looked radiant against it. The gold color complemented it nicely, swathing her in a glow.

  Two perky sorority girls, one a blonde and the other a brunette, and both equally skinny greeted us as we walked up the steps.

  “Welcome to Kappa Lambda,” the
y said in unison with faux sweet smiles.

  “Hi,” Whitney said back just as bubbly.

  I didn’t speak a word. A tight-lipped smile being the best I could manage.

  Folding chairs with cushioned seats and backs waited in two neat rows in a parlor room that sat off to the right of the entryway. Whitney politely smiled at the girls that were already seated in most of them as we passed them. All were occupied except two seats in the front row at the opposite end from which we entered the room. We sat down in them just as the girls who greeted us at the door and an additional one stepped into the room. The new girl, a beauty of average height with a rich caramel-colored complexion and a long, dark, straight mane styled so painstakingly that not a hair stood out of place, stood at the front and center of the room. The blonde stood on her left and the brunette on her right.

  “Welcome to Kappa Lambda,” she spoke. She didn’t offer up a faux sweet smile like the other two did. Hers was more genuine but also calculating. Her eyes scanned all of us seated in the chairs before her. They assessed, scrutinized, and passed judgement based off of first impressions alone. “My name is Reanne. I’m the President of Kappa Lambda.” She pointed to the blonde on her left. “This is my Vice-President Nikki.” “And this,” she said motioning to the brunette, “is Dominique. She’s the Rush Chair.”

  I drowned out the rest of what she said. It was something about the sorority’s history, the principles (what the fuck ever) it was founded upon, what they looked for in members (superficial social piranhas just like them), and what would be expected of them if they were invited to rush and became members, and blah, blah, blah.

  Finally she stopped talking and the blonde and brunette didn’t feel the need to follow up her speech with ones of their own. The brunette did however graciously inform us that we could treat ourselves to refreshments before we left and reminded us to sign the member interest list on the way out.

  “That was twelve kinds of stiff and boring,” I grumbled as we walked down the house’s steps. “If I carried a gun, I might’ve been tempted to shoot myself just to put me out of my misery.”

  “It’s a good thing you don’t. You might be tempted to shoot me too when I tell you I signed your name below mine on the interest list.”

  Whitney didn’t look a bit guilty about it.

  “You did what?!”

  “It’ll be fun. I know you don’t want to, but give it a try. You might find out you like being a sorority girl.”

  I stopped walking and turned to face her dead on. “Look at me. Do I look like one of those girls back there? Do I look like I would even fit in with them?”

  She opened her mouth to speak then closed it.

  “Exactly. Point proven.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to push you about.”

  I blew out a breath. “It was the principle of the matter. I’m sure they won’t even invite me to join. Like I said, I clearly don’t belong.”

  She blew out a breath too. “You’ll get invited. You’re a Sinclair. You belong even if you don’t want to. It’s me that probably won’t get invited to join. Those girls are out of my middle-class upbringing league.”

  “Then they’re idiots!” I had to keep myself from yelling, suddenly extremely annoyed. “You exemplify everything their sorority is supposedly founded upon. You’re crazy smart, a loyal friend, and you’re well-rounded. On top of all of that you’re compassionate towards others and will help everyone else before you help yourself.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend and you have too.” She smiled weakly at me. It was odd to see my normally over confident, borderline conceited friend experience a rare moment of self-consciousness.

  “You’re right I do have to say nice things about you but I don’t have to be genuine. I meant every single word that I said. You’re a rockstar and those sorority girls are as stupid as they look if they don’t recognize that.”

  Her smile reached her eyes.

  “You’re the best best friend anyone could ask for you know?”

  I nudged her shoulder with mine. “So are you.”

  We walked to the train station together. My bike was parked at its park and ride because I knew she would’ve taken it over and I didn’t want her walking around after dark alone.

  “So are you going to tell me what happened with Chase?”

  “I told you nothing.”

  “And I’m telling you, you’re a damn lie. Spill Alex. You know you can’t keep juicy details from me. I don’t withhold information from you.”

  “Oh but how I wish you did. I know more about your sex life than I want to.”

  “Ha! So you admit it. There was sex involved.”

  “No. No there was not. We did not have sex.”

  “Then what did you do? Did you have oral sex? Does he give good head? Did you give him head?”

  “No!” I shrieked. “Eww. I barely know him.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That is so beside the point. Did he stay over after the ball?”

  When I didn’t immediately answer her eyes widened. She took my silence as confirmation and latched on to the bit of information she’d gained like a dog to a bone. “If you didn’t have sex sex, and you didn’t have oral sex what happened? I will keep badgering you until you spill.”

  I knew from experience it wasn’t an idle threat. She really would. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But then we do not speak about it again, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay, sure.”

  “Obviously I was drunk and he walked me upstairs. I guess he was trying to be nice and make sure I was okay before he left. He helped me into bed and I propositioned him to stay and sleep with me. And no I will not give you a play-by-play. He turned me down because he said I was drunk and he was trying to be decent. Then I ran to the bathroom and puked for a good five minutes. He held my hair back while I did. He helped me back into bed and I passed out. When I woke up he was still there. He slept on the couch because he didn’t want to leave the apartment unlocked. He made us omelets and then he left. Before he left we kind of made out in the doorway and he told me that when I saw him later I could either act like nothing ever happened between us or not. He would go along with either choice. I saw him earlier this evening at headquarters. I ignored him both times he looked in my direction. He followed me into the locker room and I told him the previous night and events earlier that morning never happened. He told me he’d lied. He wouldn’t go along with that choice and we ended up making out again. Like hot and heavy making out. Charissa walked in on us and I left. He made it clear he will not be taking no for an answer and I cannot get involved with him for the same reasons I haven’t been involved with anyone since you know when. I told Charissa to tell Bennett that I’m sick to get out of patrolling and not seeing him for a few days. I’m staying at my grandparents’ just in case he decides to drop by the apartment. I need a few days to distance myself and get over whatever current state of idiocy I am going through.”

  I expected her to tease me mercilessly about kissing Chase. I also expected her to make a lewd comment or two or three about how I needed to do more than just make out with him. What I didn’t expect was the look of understanding and sympathy that had taken form on her face.

  “Alex,” she said softly, gently. “It’t not your fault. It never was. You can’t let the past ruin your present and define your future. It’s been two years and I think it is time to let it go.”

  I swallowed. Hard. We were not about to have this conversation. “Can we not talk about this? I know you mean well, but I can’t.”

  She sighed. “Okay, we won’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” The concerned crease of her eyebrows said she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t.

  She went into the train station and I walked to my bike.

  My grandfather had already made it home and retired to his room for the evening when I got back to my grandparents’ house. I studied for a little
while and then fell asleep.

  My routine Tuesday and Wednesday was much the same. I woke up, went for a run, then left my grandparents’ house for campus. In between class I studied in the book stacks.

  Thursday started out the same. I woke up, ran, then went to campus. I was in the library studying for my O-Chem test at 3:30 when my grandfather called to ask if I was free for lunch. I thought the sudden request odd. I’d just seen him at the house that morning and he hadn’t mentioned anything about lunch.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked into the phone. “You didn’t say anything about wanting to have lunch this morning.”

  My grandfather wasn’t a spur of the moment type of man. He had a calendar with appointments and meetings and leisure activities penciled in weeks, sometimes months, in advance.

  “Yes, Alex everything is fine. Sorry for the late notice. Your grandmother is back and there is something that she would like me to ask you?” His tone held the unmistakable hint of an apology.

  “What is it?” I asked suspiciously.

  “I would prefer to ask over food. It might make you more agreeable sweetheart. If you don’t say yes the first time, Madeleine will only keep harassing the both of us.”

  I loved my grandfather. He was one of the strong constants in my life. He was strong and firm, yet doting and kind. There was nothing he would not do for me and vice versa. He knew it and my grandmother also knew it.

  “I have a test in about an hour but I can meet you after that for an early dinner. I should be finished around five. Do you want to meet for five thirty?”

  “That will do. I can move some things around in my schedule.” Wow. Either it must be serious or my grandmother was really badgering him and he wanted to get her off his back if he was rearranging his meticulously arranged schedule. “Where would you like to eat?”

  “Ray’s in the City.” My mouth watered just thinking about the delicious seafood restaurant. It was near his office and I hadn’t been in a while. If I was being cajoled into doing something my grandmother wanted, I may as well get a good meal out of it.

  “Do I need to send a car for you?”