You’re the Reason

by J. Nathan

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not considered to be real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by J. Nathan.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Edited by Stephanie Elliot

  Proofread by Gemma at Gem’s Precise Proofreads

  Cover Design by Kate Farlow at Y’all. That Graphic.

  Cover Photo by Michelle Lancaster @lanefotograf

  Cover Model Andy Murray

  First Edition June 2020

  CHAPTER ONE

  “It was less than a year ago that sorority pledge Sydney Lane plunged four stories to her death just feet from where I stand outside Harris Hall…”

  I flinched at the reporter’s words as I pulled another box from the back of my mom’s SUV, trying to stay out of the cameraman’s shot. Having my face flashed across the news, while a reporter rehashed the gruesome details of Sydney Lane’s death, was not my idea of a great first day at a new school.

  “Sydney’s family continues to believe their daughter would never take her own life,” the reporter continued, “but the university stands by their investigation with local authorities claiming there was no evidence of foul play.”

  Only those living under a rock hadn’t heard the story of Sydney Lane, the homecoming queen from Austin, Texas, who died while pledging the Alpha Phi sorority her freshman year.

  “Reporting to you live from Crestwood University,” the reporter said before throwing it back to the news station.

  My mother slammed the back of her SUV and lifted one of the boxes. “Let’s go meet your roommate.”

  I slung my backpack over my shoulders then lifted two boxes, balancing the lighter one on top of the heavier one.

  “You sure you got those?” my mom asked.

  “Mom, I’m fine. That was over a year ago.”

  She sighed.

  I knew she worried about me, but I really was fine.

  I followed her toward the propped-open front door of Harris Hall, an old brick dorm in need of some updating. I hadn’t toured Crestwood’s campus before transferring because being closer to home was all that mattered. Put me in a room in Texas, and I’d make it work. I hadn’t even spoken with my new roommate, having reached out but never receiving a reply. I assumed it was an old email address and shrugged it off knowing I’d make that work too.

  My knee felt only a little stiff as we climbed three flights of stairs to the third floor and followed the numbers to 320. The door was open and the room had already been decorated, except for the bed with the bare mattress by the left wall and empty desk that I assumed was for me.

  I set the boxes on the floor and scanned the small space. My roommate had hung tiny strands of white lights around the room. Her paisley comforter was adorned with small matching throw pillows and a teddy bear with an Alpha Phi shirt on it. The board on the wall above her desk was filled with photos. I moved closer to get a better look. The blonde in every photo with the perfect cheekbones and impeccable curls had to be my roommate. Her friends all looked similar to her, and many wore Alpha Phi shirts.

  “Hey, y’all,” a sweet voice greeted us.

  I spun on my red Converse and found the living version of the girl in the photos standing in the doorway looking just as beautiful in person. “Hi.”

  She had green eyes and a warm smile. “You must be my new roommate,” she said, nodding in the direction of the boxes I had placed on the floor.

  I smiled, my blue eyes nowhere near as vibrant as her green and my brown hair nowhere near as perfectly curled as hers. “I’m Sophia.”

  “I’m Chantel.”

  “I’m Mom,” my mom added.

  Chantel chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Galloway.”

  My eyes narrowed. Neither my mom nor I had said our last name. Had she gotten my email and just not replied?

  Noticing my confusion, Chantel added, “Our RA just told me your name. That is your last name, isn’t it?” Her eyes jumped curiously between my mom and me.

  “Yeah. I just transferred from the University of Maine.”

  She dropped down onto her bed. “Didn’t like the snow?”

  I laughed. “Hated it.”

  “Are you a sophomore, too?” my mother asked her.

  “I’m a senior.” Something clouded her sparkly eyes, and a distant look filled them. “It’s a long story.”

  Knowing when not to pry, my mom and I made small talk with her about our intended majors—history for me and communications for her—then excused ourselves a short time later to retrieve the remainder of my belongings from the car. When we returned, Chantel wasn’t there.

  After helping me make my bed and unpack my clothes, my mom said goodbye. There was something so comforting about knowing she’d only be forty-five minutes away.

  I heaved a sigh as recollections of my time in Maine flashed through my mind. The lonely nights. The meals alone. The long FaceTime calls with anyone back home who’d answer. I was a country girl suddenly transplanted to a snow-covered state where everyone skied and loved the cold weather except me. Being that far from home had taken an emotional toll on me, so I decided to transfer closer to home. Hence starting a new school in Houston for my sophomore year.

  I unpacked my own small collage of photos in a frame and hung it above my desk. Though I had a handful of close friends back home, I still hoped to make new friends here in Houston. I wasn’t a social butterfly, like I gathered my roommate was, but I also wasn’t a recluse.

  “Thank God, we’re finally alone,” Chantel said, sweeping back into the room and closing the door behind her. “Tell me everything.” She dropped down onto her bed. “You single, bi, doing the long-distance thing, playing the field? Go.”

  My eyes went wide, taken aback by the once sweet girl my mom had met. This version was nosy as hell. “Um…”

  “You planning on pledging a sorority?”

  “Um…”

  “I’ve got pull with the Alpha Phis. It’s the best sorority on campus.”

  “Is that your sorority?”

  She laughed like I should’ve known that. “Obviously.”

  “You don’t have a house?”

  Something darkened in her expression, just like it had before when my mom was still there. “Not this year.”

  I said nothing, realizing I must’ve put my foot in my mouth.

  “Sydney Lane was pledging our sorority,” she explained. “And since her family won’t accept Sydney’s death was a suicide and won’t give up their investigation, the university shut down our house for the year to appease them.” Her eyes drifted over the four walls of our room. “That’s why I’m back in this hell hole. No offense.”

  I shrugged. It didn’t matter to me. I was back in Texas. That’s all I cared about. “Are your sorority sisters in this dorm, too?”

  “Yeah” she clipped. “All of us punished because of Sydney’s decision.”

  “You didn’t want to live with any of them?” I asked, treading lightly.

  “My bestie Patrice transferred last minute. That’s why you lucked out and got this room with me—Enough talk. You up for a party tonight?” she asked.

  “Oh, I…”

  “It’s settled.” She stood. “You’re coming.”

  “Where’s the party?”

  She cocked her head. “Does it matter?”

  I chuckled. “I guess not.”

  “I’m gonna go hang with my girls w
hile you finish unpacking. I’ll come back to get ready and get you. We’ll have drinks in their room, then head over to Kappa Sigma.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, not really sure I was up for a party with a group of girls I didn’t know, but I was willing to give it a try.

  Once she disappeared out the door, I could finally breathe. Between her looks and rapid-fire questioning, she commanded an audience and dominated a conversation. I wasn’t used to someone so…forward. But she was my new roommate, so I’d make it work.

  ***

  I curled my normally straight hair and threw on skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder navy shirt, hoping to make my blue eyes pop. I brushed on a little blush and swiped on some mascara, making my already long lashes extend further. I was in the midst of curling my eyelashes when Chantel breezed into the room a little before nine.

  “Almost ready?” she asked as she pulled off her T-shirt in front of the closet, sans bra.

  “Yup.” I averted my eyes as she took her time searching for a shirt. If only I had that much confidence.

  “I can’t wait to introduce you to my sorority sisters.”

  I focused on curling my eyelashes, not wanting to turn around until I was sure she was dressed.

  “How do I look?” she asked.

  I held my breath as I twisted around. Phew. She stood there in a short denim skirt and a white crop top that showed not only her toned stomach but accentuated her perfect boobs. “Nice.”

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” she asked, a tinge of disapproval in her tone as her eyes drifted over my outfit.

  I glanced down. “Do I not look all right?”

  She hesitated. “You look fine.”

  Her words played through my mind again as we entered her sorority sisters’ room on the fourth floor. The space was the same size as ours but filled with girls all wearing the same outfit—tiny denim skirts but different colored crop tops. Apparently, I hadn’t gotten the memo.

  All conversations ceased and eyes turned toward me. The girls assessed me from head to toe. I’d never felt more uncomfortable in my life, knowing a roomful of sorority girls were sizing me up all at once.

  “Hi,” they said in unison, breaking into a bout of laughter once they realized how they sounded.

  I lifted my hand. “Hey.”

  Chantel closed the door behind us and bottles of wine were passed around. A few girls asked about my sophomore status and where I lived, but besides that, I sat back and listened to them chat about guys, their summers, who they planned to hook up with this year, and rush week coming up soon. It was obvious Chantel was their leader. She ruled the conversation, and they all quieted when she spoke.

  “So, Maine, huh?” the only other brunette in the room asked as she sat down beside me on the floor.

  “Yup.”

  “Didn’t like the cold?” she asked.

  I shook my head, realizing I’d have to have the same conversation with each new person I met. “Not at all.”

  She laughed. “I’m Valerie.”

  “Sophia.”

  “Yeah, I know. Chantel filled us in before you got here.”

  I cringed.

  “Don’t worry,” she smiled. “It wasn’t bad.”

  “I heard she was supposed to have another roommate. I hope she’s not too upset she got stuck with me instead.”

  I expected Valerie to laugh and tell me Chantel was excited to have me, but she didn’t. She shrugged.

  My eyes widened. “She is pissed.”

  Valerie grinned. “She would’ve loved a single.”

  Freaking great.

  A short time later we walked across campus, the loud cackles from the large group carrying through the darkness. I felt like an outsider as I followed behind, trying to politely listen to their conversations but saying very little.

  We moved toward a large white house with black shutters. A big Greek K hung on the peaked roof above the second floor. The rumble of loud music playing inside the house vibrated the pavement beneath our feet as we moved up the sidewalk.

  “Hey!” called a guy from the front door.

  The girls waved or called back to him.

  He turned his head and shouted inside, “The Alpha Phis are here. Lock the door to the roof.”

  Knots of unease formed in my stomach. Had he actually just made a joke about Sydney Lane’s death? I glanced around and none of the girls seemed angry about his comment. My eyes collided with Valerie’s. Her twisted lips told me she was the only one who understood my surprise—and disgust.

  We reached the front door, held open by the jerk who’d made the comment. The girls all filed inside, greeting him as they passed by. I moved through the doorway last, purposely stepping on his foot on my way by. “Oops.”

  His death glare told me he knew I’d done it on purpose. Huh. He was smarter than I gave him credit for.

  Chantel led the way as I trailed the girls, wondering why I agreed to go to a party in the first place. This really wasn’t my thing. We walked down a crowded hallway where guys and girls drank from red cups, turning their bodies to make room for us to move by. Guys ogled the Alpha Phis, while the other girls—who probably just realized they’d have competition—looked away in disgust.

  We passed through an open door at the end of the hallway that led down a small set of stairs. Music reverberated through the tight stairwell which eventually opened up to a large basement. Guys and girls danced in the middle of the tiled floor while others drank and mingled around the room or at the bar that lined the back wall.

  Many heads turned when the Alpha Phis paraded in. The girls definitely loved the attention, but I wondered if they loved each other. They were friendly, but I couldn’t tell if they were friends or just acting the part.

  I veered from the group and took a spot by the wall, checking my phone.

  “You need a drink?”

  I glanced up to find a guy with a shaved head holding out a cup.

  I eyed the cup. “No offense, but I’ve seen too many Lifetime movies to know there could be something other than flat beer in that cup.”

  He laughed, downing the contents of the cup to show he hadn’t laced the beer.

  “One can never be too safe. Predators come in all shapes and sizes,” I assured him.

  He laughed again. “Let’s get you a cup straight from the keg.”

  I nodded.

  He walked me to the bar, calling to a guy to pour me a beer.

  I watched the guy pour it before he handed it to me. “Thanks,” I said before turning to Mr. Shaved Head. “I’m Soph—” But he’d disappeared.

  O-kay.

  I moved back to the side of the room and drank my beer as I watched Chantel and her sisters dance on the dance floor, some with guys and some in a group together.

  Chantel had her arms wrapped tightly around a tall guy who had his face buried in her neck. I couldn’t see his face, but my guess was he was either the president of the frat or the best-looking guy in that dark basement. Chantel didn’t seem the type to settle for anything less. His massive arms were wrapped around her waist, and he must’ve been doing or saying something to elicit the laughter tumbling out of her.

  I spotted some of the other girls dancing together. Valerie, though just as pretty as the others, looked out of place in the group. Maybe it was her dark hair. Or, maybe it was the strange way her eyes looked devoid of light around the other girls. One on one, she seemed fine. But in the middle of the group, she looked…uncomfortable.

  “Drink up,” the guy with the shaved head said, leaning against the wall beside me again. “It’s a party. Have fun.”

  He was right. I did need some fun in my life. I tipped back my cup and downed my beer.

  “And just like that, she’s here to party,” my new friend announced as I wiped the foam off my top lip with the back of my hand. “I’m Ryan.”

  “Sophia.” I said as a wave of warmth spread through my body thanks to the beer coursing through it. “I just
transferred.”

  He nodded, like he understood. “Well, let’s go get you another beer.”

  A few beers later, I found myself in the middle of the dance floor dancing with Valerie and some of the other girls. I was laughing and actually having fun, and I knew, besides being totally buzzed, I was happier here than I’d ever been in Maine.

  A hand grasped hold of my wrist, catching me off guard. I twisted around to find Ryan tugging on my arm and leading me off the dance floor. “What are you doing?”

  “Let’s go play pool.”

  I laughed to myself as I let him lead me upstairs to the main floor where a group of guys and girls stood around a pool table, using it as a seat or a place to set down their drinks.

  “All right people, move it!” he called.

  They hopped off the table, clearing the way for us to play. “I need to show Maine how we do things in Texas.”

  My head whipped back. “Maine?”

  “Word travels fast at a school this size.”

  “I’m actually from Texas,” I assured him, a little unsettled that people I didn’t know already knew about me.

  He racked up the balls on the table. “Ladies first—unless you need me to show you how it’s done.”

  I slipped a pool stick off the rack on the wall. “I think I can manage.” I lined up my shot on the table then glanced to Ryan who seemed to be staring at my ass. “Do I do it like this?” I asked, feigning oblivion.

  His eyes jumped from my ass to my eyes. “Uh huh.”

  I tapped my pool stick into the cue ball. The triangle of colorful balls split apart, landing in all directions on the table. Two of the striped balls buried themselves in the corner pockets at the far side of the table.

  “Nice break,” Ryan said, his eyes scanning the pool table. “Looks like you’re stripes.”

  “Are those the ones with the stripes on them?” I asked facetiously.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re a ringer, aren’t you?”

  I smiled, then proceeded to sink every one of the striped balls. I’d grown up with a pool table in my basement. So, I knew my way around a table, but Ryan took it like a champ, slapping my hand and getting me another drink after my victory.

  Somewhere around midnight, I found myself puking alone in the front yard. Thankfully, no one else had ventured out to witness the grace that was my drunken self.