Palm South University: Season 2 Box Set

by Kandi Steiner

  “Anytime, Ex. Now go raise some money for charity, you fine piece of ass.” She smacks my butt as I open the bathroom door and I laugh, throwing her a wink.

  I don’t have time to get nervous, because Kelsey immediately leads me to the stage, helping me walk up the back stairs before Siomara, My Grand Big and last semester’s president, starts speaking into the mic to begin my auction. Even though her term ended last semester, she stuck around for one more so she could graduate in the spring. Then, she’ll be headed to Antigua for medical school.

  Everything is changing.

  “Oh boys, you’re in for a real treat with this one,” Siomara begins and a few whistles ring out. I shake my head, but pull on my mask, the one that lets everyone in the room know that I can handle anything — everything. “Our new Recruitment Chair is classy, beautiful, and smart. There’s a reason her nickname is Ex, boys, so beware.” Laughter rings out and I flash a smile at the crowd, playing into it. “And, of course, she’s the one in charge of choosing the hot group of freshmen ladies that will make up the next pledge class of Kappa Kappa Beta in the fall!” The crowd cheers, and I take a mini bow before laughing softly.

  “We’ll start the bidding at one-hundred dollars.”

  A paddle flies up in the back, but I can’t see the hand attached to it. Siomara keeps raising the price, and paddle after paddle goes up in response. I should be happy, flattered, but I just feel so numb. I think I’m smiling, but I can’t be sure. When the amount gets up to five-hundred, I focus enough to see who’s still in the race.

  The paddle that goes up for five-hundred is Clinton.

  He smiles at me, that heart-stopping, white-teeth-blazing-against-dark-skin smile that had me more weak in the knees than I care to admit the night he took me to semi-formal. He winks, and a sharp pang shoots through my chest. I know he’s just doing it as a friend, he’s just being sweet, because that’s the kind of man he is.

  He would have made a great father.

  He will make a great father. Someday.

  But when Siomara raises the price to six hundred, a new paddle goes up. I recognize the face below it, perfectly symmetrical like a Ken doll, defined jaw, baby face, sandy blonde hair combed over and perfectly styled. Landon Turner is practically the definition of a frat daddy. Vice President of Mu Beta Chi, pre-med with a focus in plastic surgery, dressed in coral shorts cut just above his knee, a white polo, and Sperry’s — when it comes to who my parents think I should marry, he’s my mother’s wet dream.

  Landon is standing with some of his friends, elbowing them with a wide smile as he wins the auction. He makes his way through the crowd, helping me down from the stage as a few of my sisters take his cash donation. He has light, almost crystal-blue eyes, and he’s not too shy to let me know he wants me with them.

  “Looks like I get the privilege of taking you out on a date,” he says with a slight southern drawl. Yep, my mom would have officially lost her mind.

  “Looks that way.” I smile, but it’s still a mask. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I want it to be perfect, so I need some time to think. Can I have your phone number, Erin Xander?”

  This time I smile and it’s somewhat genuine. Landon is cute, sweet — he could be fun. I just need to clear my head. Hopefully I can do that before he calls for our date.

  I jot my number down in his phone and he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before returning to his friends so I can join my sisters backstage. Kelsey hands me a clipboard immediately and puts me to work, organizing the rest of the sisters going up for auction and keeping a running tab on the funds raised. For the first time tonight, I feel in my element. Slipping into organizational mode, I push everything else out of my mind and focus on the tasks at hand.

  It’s the best kind of escape.

  IN THE TIME I WAS BACKSTAGE with Cassie and Skyler was behind the bar with Clinton, something changed. I’m not entirely sure what just yet, but something is different. Skyler has stopped trembling; she’s smiling, talking to everyone in our group as we wait for the next sister to come up on stage. She’s here, tucked under my arm, but she’s not really here. Her mind is somewhere far away. She’s thinking, and it’s the kind of thinking that makes me uneasy.

  I think we both feel it. We both feel something coming.

  Excusing myself from the group, I slide up to the bar and get a refill on my Captain and Coke just as Cassie takes the stage.

  I can tell she’s still nervous, but she’s much better than she was backstage. Her cheeks rosy, she’s twisting her fingers together and smiling out at the crowd as Siomara talks into the mic about how great of a catch Cassie is. Paying for my drink and lifting it to my lips as I make my way back to the group, I catch just the tail end of the spiel.

  “Plus, she’s probably the cutest redhead Palm South University has ever seen, am I right?”

  The room erupts into a mixture of cheers from her sisters and hoots from the guys crowding the bar. Cassie flushes a deep, crimson red, and I can’t help but smile.

  “We’ll start the bidding at one-hundred dollars.”

  There’s a lull in the noise, everyone waiting for that first paddle to go up. Only a few seconds pass, but I watch as Cassie’s smile falls, worry appearing in the form of a small crease between her brows. Snatching the paddle out of my brother, Jeremy’s, hand, I shoot it up into the air.

  “One-hundred! Do I hear one-fifty?”

  Cassie’s green eyes sparkle when she sees it was me with the paddle. She mouths a thank you, and I just smile, handing the paddle back to Jeremy. Jeremy is one of my closest friends in the fraternity, the one brother who helped me with all the events last semester and believed in me when I said I could put our fraternity on the map. This semester, he’s my right-hand man, and if we have anything to do with it, we’ll be President and Vice President next year.

  Skyler’s arms wrap around my middle and she leans her head on my chest, looking up at me through her long lashes.

  “You may officially be the best boyfriend ever. Thank you for doing that.”

  I shrug. “I just got the bets started.”

  And I did. A few more paddles go up before the bid levels out around three-hundred. Siomara is just about to call it when a last-minute paddle flies up.

  “Five-hundred!”

  Everyone cheers, and Cassie searches the crowd for the new bidder. When she finds him, recognition hits her eyes. She smiles, a bigger smile than I’ve seen on her face in some time. She knows the guy, and as he makes his way to the stage, panting slightly, like he rushed to get here and just barely made it, Cassie turns to Siomara.

  “Sold!” she yells before Siomara has the chance to ask for a higher bid.

  Siomara laughs, banging her make-shift gavel on the podium. “You heard the girl!”

  A few laughs ring out and then everyone goes back to their conversations or to the bar, waiting for the next auction to start. My eyes, however, stay firmly on Cassie as she makes her way down the stairs. The mystery guy is waiting for her, but when she leaves the last stair, I lose sight of them just as he wraps her in a hug.

  Who the hell is that?

  “So, I hear you’re joining us on Spring Break, Brooks. You think you can hang with a bunch of KKBs and O Chis?” Clinton clinks his class with mine and takes a drink. I sip mine and smile.

  “I guess we’ll find out. I am excited, though. I’ve never been to Key West.”

  “Me either,” he says. “I heard Duval Street is crazy.”

  “I’m just ready for some sunshine and a break from classes. Homework is already killing me,” Skyler adds.

  “Yeah, I can’t wait to see you in a bathing suit, either. Oh! I mean sunshine. Can’t wait to be in the sunshine. Totally meant sunshine.” I wink at Skyler and she elbows my side, but leans up to plant a swift kiss on my cheek.

  “You two are so cute it’s kind of disgusting,” Jeremy says.

  “Don’t be jealous. I’m sure your hand looks very nice
in a yellow bikini, too.”

  This time Jeremy slugs my arm and we all laugh just as Cassie joins our group. And she’s not alone. There’s a hand wrapped around her small waist, a hand attached to a long, tattooed arm.

  “Hey guys, this is Grayson,” Cassie introduces, looking up at the guy with a smile. He’s tall, lanky but not too skinny. His hair and beard are dark, but his eyes are bright blue. He’s not even remotely unfortunate looking, and for some reason, that irks me.

  “Oh yeah, from the coffee shop, right?” Skyler asks, moving forward first. She gives him a hug before wrapping her arms around me again. “Thanks for donating to our cause tonight.”

  “Of course. I would have paid more if it meant getting Cassie to go on another date with me.” He grins down at her and she flushes, just slightly, like she did the day I first met her.

  “Another? I didn’t know you two had already been on one,” Skyler says, her arms still around my waist.

  “We just went to dinner.”

  “She’s playing hard to get,” Grayson argues, but they’re both smiling.

  I’m highly annoyed.

  “Well I guess she can’t say no to a five-hundred dollar proposition,” Clinton says, leaning forward to shake Grayson’s hand. “I’m Bear.”

  “Nice to meet you, man.”

  “Oh! Yeah, this is my Big, Skyler, and Adam and Jeremy. They’re in Alpha Sigma.”

  Grayson shakes Jeremy’s hand first and mine last. His grip is strong, smile still in place.

  “Hey, I know you. You’re the one who threw that kick ass concert last semester, right?” he asks as we drop hands.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Bro! That was so sick. Three of my favorite bands in the area were there. Are you doing another one next fall?”

  “If I have anything to do with it, yeah.” Cassie is smiling up at him as we talk a little more about the concert. He really knows his shit about local music, and before I can stop him, Jeremy is asking if he’ll help scout talent next semester. The guy is nice, funny, not even a little douche-like.

  I hate him.

  My phone buzzes, and for the first time ever, I’m actually relieved to see a text from Clay demanding I get my ass to the house.

  “Shit,” I murmur. Skyler leans over to look at the text. “Clay just called an emergency meeting.”

  “Think it’s about the retreat?” Jeremy asks.

  “Not sure, but we should probably both go.” I turn to Skyler, apologies at the ready.

  “Don’t,” she says before I have the chance, holding up her hand. “It’s completely fine. I’m exhausted anyway and need to call my parents about what happened tonight. I’ll text you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I smile and she lifts on her toes to give me a kiss. She breaks away too soon for me, so I pull her back, running my hand up her arm to grip the back of her neck, holding her to me. She sighs a little, as if my kiss reassured her of something I didn’t even know she was questioning.

  “Have fun tonight.”

  “You too,” she breathes when I break the kiss. “See you guys later. Nice to meet you, Grayson.” I nod my head as he holds his whiskey up in a cheers to me.

  My eyes flick to Cassie’s, but just for a moment, not even long enough to read what lies behind them before I turn and make my way through the crowd with Jeremy.

  THERE ARE TIMES WHEN OUR BODIES warn us against the actions we choose. They make us sweat, turn our stomachs, cloud our vision, cause us to tremble. My body is sending me all the warning signs now as I clutch the donations raised Saturday night at the auction close to my chest. But I’m not walking up to the bank.

  I’m walking into Xavier’s office.

  I know it’s wrong, I’m ashamed that I’m doing it, but I don’t have a choice. We raised just over five grand, just enough to buy me the time to Spring Break, just enough to move me closer to my freedom. It’s selfish, it’s against every value my sorority stands for, it’s against everything that I am. But I know this isn’t just some game I can quit and walk away from unscarred. My life is on the line.

  Bo’s life is on the line.

  And if I want to make it out of this alive, I’m going to have to do some things I’m not proud of.

  I already have.

  Swallowing, I nod slightly at the body guard outside of Xavier’s office as he lets me in the door. Xavier is seated at his desk, head down, looking through a folder with pictures of other men and documents I’m more than sure I don’t want to know the details of.

  “Have a seat, Ashlei. Just one moment.”

  I tuck my hair behind my ears, the ends of it sticking to my neck as I sit on the edge of the chair. Xavier shifts through a few more pages before closing the file and leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

  “I hope you’re not here to beg for more time.”

  “I’m not,” I say, shoving the large envelope toward him. He takes it hesitantly, his eyes on mine, before opening it and running his fingers over the money. “There’s just over five-thousand in there.”

  He smiles, one that makes me even more uncomfortable than I was. “Does this mean you’re taking me up on my offer?”

  “I don’t really have a choice,” I squeak, my throat dry.

  Xavier claps his hands together and I jump. “Beautiful! I love when it all comes together like this, kiddo.” He pauses, noting my frown. “It’ll be easy, I promise. You’ll be on Spring Break. Everyone is looking for something.”

  I nod. “I just want it to be over.”

  He clears his throat, and I wonder if even he is uncomfortable at the position he’s put me in. Then I think of how he’s treated me in the past, how he’s treated Kya, Hayden. There’s no way this man can have a conscious.

  But really, am I so different? Here I am agreeing to sell hard drugs to other students on campus. I could be starting an addiction. I could be ending a life.

  “I’ll call you when everything is ready for you to pick up,” he says finally, dismissing me.

  “Um, wait.” I stand, wiping my palms on my shorts. “I, uh, I kind of need your help.” Xavier cocks a brow and I close my eyes, ashamed of what I’m about to ask. I can’t let anyone in Kappa Kappa Beta find out about this, which means I need an insurance policy.

  “I have to convince my sisters I was mugged, that the money was stolen.” I open my eyes again, hoping he’ll understand without me having to explain more.

  “What are you asking me, Ashlei?”

  I feel it inside, a crack only I can hear as a piece of me breaks. “I need you to hit me.”

  I AM EMPTY.

  I thought I knew what it felt like — emptiness.

  The summer before my senior year of high school, I described myself as empty. I was searching for purpose, for something to make me feel like living, and luckily I found it in a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy in the wheat fields of Kansas. Kip Jackson helped me find myself, and though we don’t talk anymore, I still attribute a lot of who I am today to who he helped me become that summer.

  But this emptiness I feel now, my hands wrapped hard around the steering wheel of Jess’ BMW, white knuckles, dry eyes, tight skin, dry mouth — I’ve never felt anything like this before. My phone is ringing, but I can barely hear it. It’s probably Landon. He’s called twice today, but I’m not ready to answer. Hell, I can’t even answer to myself right now.

  Emptiness.

  It’s such a strange word.

  A cup, half-empty or half-full?

  I was brought up in a large, white house with light blue shutters. I went to church every Wednesday and twice on Sunday. My parents consistently donate to the Republican party, at all levels of government, and my political views are about as far right as you can go.

  And yet here I am.

  I wish I could cry. I wish I could feel the guilt, the shame, the pain I should feel at this moment in time. I’m angry that I’m numb, that I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the word, around the act of horr
or I just committed.

  Abortion.

  Another strange word.

  My right hand slides down the side of the steering wheel, dropping to my stomach, and I grip the soft cotton fabric of my t-shirt covering it. It’s so flat, so hollow.

  Empty.

  Part of me wishes someone was here with me, but the larger part of me is thankful I didn’t break down enough to ask anyone. I can barely face the facts of what I did, I’m almost sure I wouldn’t be able to take the judgement from an outside party. No one knows what this feels like until they’re here.

  Erin Xander: College junior, pre-law, future president of her sorority, knocked up by the lovable jock in the fraternity house down the street.

  That is not my story to tell.

  Maybe, if I were stronger, if I were less selfish, we could have made it work. Maybe I could have given up my presidency to have the baby, put it up for adoption, still graduated and become a lawyer like I’ve always dreamed. Maybe Clinton would have wanted to keep it.

  As it stands, Clinton will never know.

  No one will ever know.

  I sniff, but for no reason, because I’m not crying. I didn’t cry when I read the all lowercase letters that spelled out pregnant on that little plastic tube in my bathroom. I didn’t cry when I lied to Jess, or when I made the appointment. I didn’t cry when I walked past the small group holding hand-painted signs outside of the clinic — Choose Life. And I know I’ll never cry, because if ever there was a time, it would have been when they vacuumed my son or daughter out of my stomach like it was a mess made by an inconsiderate neighbor.

  I am twenty-years-old, and yet I am a mother, to a baby I’ll never have the fortune of meeting.

  Except I am not a mother.

  I am selfish.

  I am a hypocrite.

  I am empty.

  VALENTINE’S DAY HAS NEVER BEEN A SPECIAL HOLIDAY for me. In fact, the only true valentine I ever had was in second grade when Jordan Lewis bought me a stuffed white dog and small, heart-shaped box of chocolate. He ate half of the chocolates and pushed me off the merry-go-round later that afternoon.