by Rachel Shane
Mackenzie hit play. All four of us leaned into the screen even though it remained as black as my mood.
The voices started.
“What?” the first one snapped, angry. Layla. I’d recognize her high-pitched bleat anywhere.
“I found something quite interesting on my boyfriend’s phone.”
Mackenzie gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Amber,” she whispered.
Blood whooshed in my ears. I hopped to my feet and started an aggressive pace across our gray carpet.
“Yeah, she joined only like two days before I captured this. Her friends convinced her RSD was way more stable than Yours.” Fallon sucked on her lip at having to deliver that news.
“Watch,” Amber said.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the audio track from the familiar video played for everyone to hear. Of course, they couldn’t see the sliver of Harrison, framed in the cracked door. But his confession was enough to recognize instantly. They already knew the lyrics, but now they could set it to music.
“…Told you,” Harrison said. “Not for another two weeks.”
All three eyes turned to me. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Holy shit,” Layla gasped as the rest of the video played and Harrison mentioned the pledge dues. “We can get them kicked off for this!” Her plan fell into place instantly, and she doled out instructions like a true leader. A copy of the video in mpeg format. An anonymous email address. An electronic death sentence.
Layla had been the one to blast Harrison right out of his castle.
Erin sighed, sinking back into the cushions. “It’s not enough to get Layla in trouble. She was reporting something that should have been reported. If we tell the Greek Org, they’ll probably reward her for this.”
Fallon nodded. “Right, which is why I thought leaking this might get her hated and then we can use that against her somehow.”
Mackenzie shook her head. “The other frats don’t like Out House either. They’ll reward Layla too.”
My lungs pulsed. They were all talking about using this video to drag down Layla’s reputation. But I could use it to restore mine.
“Can you email me a copy of that?” I said to Mackenzie out of nowhere.
She nodded, fingers already typing. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Gloat.” I lifted my phone out of my pocket and started drafting the email to Harrison. Subject: Proof. Body: That you should have trusted me all along.
LESS THAN TWO-HOURS after I sent the video to Harrison, an Out House pledge—or I guess soon-to-be-former Out House pledge—knocked on my door with two dozen roses of every color. There was no note, just a verbal message from a quivering boy. “He says he’s sorry.”
I crossed my arms. “He couldn’t say it himself?”
The boy shrugged. “He was afraid you’d slam the door in his face.”
“Good guess.” I slammed the door in the pledge’s face, then immediately leaned against it, my heart ragged. He hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me his secrets and now he couldn’t even face me himself to apologize. My walls and defenses were back up, erected higher than they had been at the start of the semester when I’d marched into Out House’s party with metaphorical guns blazing. If Harrison wanted to break through the barrier again, it wouldn’t take flowers. It would take a cannon.
The same pledge was waiting on my doorstep the next morning, iced coffee in his hand just the way I liked it…in the summer. Now the twenty degree temperature was turning my nose a rosy pink. I thought back to the plane ride when I tried to ignore Harrison—and my growing feelings for him—by clinking an iced coffee in his face. My heart pricked. I forced an annoyed tone into my words. “And what’s the message this time?”
“Nothing.” The kid held out the coffee to me.
“If I didn’t accept the flowers, what makes you think I’ll accept another lame gift?” I stomped into the fresh snow coating the sidewalk. The poor kid dumped the iced coffee into a trash bin and shoved his gloved hands into his pockets, defeated. I expected him to follow me in the direction of campus, but he kept standing outside my door, waiting for nothing.
When I reached the end of the block, there was another boy standing there, this one holding out a styrofoam cup of hot coffee. Steam billowed and curled into the wind. I let out a little snicker. “Well, he’s persistent. I’ll give him that.” I paused in front of the him, eyebrows raised. Maybe he had the message. But the kid pushed the coffee toward me.
I shook my head even though I hadn’t had any yet and my temples pounded with caffeine withdrawal.
When I reached the next block, another figure was waiting for me. The corners of my lips curled upward before I coaxed them back down again. Flowers and cups of coffee still didn’t make up for the fact that he thought I’d been using him this whole time. That I’d stomped my foot all over his good name.
The third Out House pledge held out a box of chocolates for me, tied with a delicate silk ribbon. “Add cliché to persistent,” I said as I brushed past him.
The wind kicked up and whipped my hair all over my face. Normally I’d rush to class in this weather, huddle under my hood and flee like the wind. But as I turned the corner that led to campus, I kept my shoulders squared, my face pointing ahead toward the fourth guy waiting like a trap for my heart.
As I approached, he opened a navy velvet box that displayed a glittering silver necklace with a small B charm. Simple but gorgeous. My heart thumped. No guy had ever given me jewelry before. Or coffee, for that matter. Roses were old hat in the pageant world. “Cheesy,” I spat, pushing the word past my teeth. “He can’t buy me off with sparkles.”
I stepped onto the campus sidewalk, mingling with the other people going to class. Mounds of snow fenced us in on each side. I slowed my pace every time I passed a guy standing still, but most were on their cell phones, risking frostbite to look up the latest news on Twitter. I found the next—last?—guy pacing in front of my class building. He thrust a sheet of paper at me.
I took it, only because I couldn’t read it as it flapped in the wind. I fully expected it to contain another trite and ridiculous apology, and I planned to crumble it into a ball and toss it right back at the messenger. But I gasped when I drank in the words. It was a print out of a job posting for a winter break PR internship at the New York Times. Harrison had scrawled a handwritten message at the bottom in his messy chicken scratch. They contacted me for an internship and I passed along your name and credentials as well. They want you. (I do too.)
Below that he’d written the email address of the person I needed to contact.
The New York Times. It hadn’t been my dream job until a few weeks ago but now it was everything I dreamed of. I could find a sublet and stay far away from my toxic house and the mother I planned never to speak to again.
I hugged the paper to my chest and stepped inside the building. The messenger nodded and waved me goodbye, the only one retreating without my snarky message to deliver back. But taking the paper said enough.
That night, the doorbell rang and all four of us perked up from our perch around the dinner table. We’d ordered all sorts of tapas from Ali Baba’s in celebration of the prodigal sister returning home from her plight in the Greek war.
Fallon plucked another Mediterranean meatball off the tray. “Everyone place your bets. I say this time it’s a pony. No, unicorn!”
“No, we’re still in the small gift phase so I’m going to say…tickets to something fancy,” Mackenzie guessed. “The opera maybe?”
Erin clicked her wine glass against Mackenzie’s. “Well, whatever it is, if it’s sparkly, you should accept it this time.”
“What’s the jurisdiction on coffee?” I shoved another hummus covered pita triangle into my mouth and made no move to get up from the table.
Mackenzie pursed her lips. “You do really like coffee.”
“And the guy buying it for you,” Erin muttered under her breath.
I
swallowed. “Not anymore. The guy, not the coffee. I still very much like coffee.”
The doorbell rang again.
All three girls blinked at me. I blinked back at them. Finally, Mackenzie sighed and pushed herself away from the table. Her slippers shuffled as she trudged toward the door. A gust of wind swooped in, and the other girls craned their necks to see through the small window between the kitchen and the living room, which opened to the porch. I bit into a marinated chicken skewer, forcing myself to act aloof and ignore the way my stomach swirled.
Whispers flew from the foyer and a minute later Mackenzie ambled back. She flourished her hand toward the living room. “It’s even better than our guesses.”
I crossed my arms defiantly.
Erin nudged me with her foot. “Oh come on, I know you’re curious.”
I sighed and scraped my chair over the tile floor. “Only to shut you all up.”
Deep inside I made my own guess. Not anything cliché because that hadn’t worked. But something else that might get through to me, like the job lead. I imagined another sheet of paper, this one with sublet apartment listings. I’d already contacted the New York Times HR lady and the position was mine to turn down. Or accept. The salary would help cover my rent for the next few months.
I froze when I crossed through the doorway into the living room and spotted the new messenger waiting for me. Not a pledge but a brother. Not a gift but himself. Harrison stood in the foyer with a familiar iPad clutched tightly to his chest, his face full of remorse. My heart beat fast at the sight of him.
He held out the iPad to me. “Tomorrow’s edition.”
If this were a horror movie, the music would ratchet up to a crescendo to let the audience know something terrible was about to happen. Harrison’s grave face was enough of a clue. I took tentative steps toward him and the whiff of his cologne nearly unnerved me completely. I gulped desperate breaths, trying to latch onto the fading scent of garlic from the kitchen. With shaky palms, I took the device from him and braced myself for the headline with a sharp intake of breath.
It was as bad as I feared.
Sorority Reinstated, to Move Back into Original House.
The air whooshed from my lungs. Layla hadn’t secured a place on campus for Rho Sigma Delta, she’d gotten Rho Sigma back on campus. A newer, improved version without all the people she hated. The final nail in my version’s coffin. A strangled cry flew from my lips. Mackenzie must not have seen the headline, just Harrison’s regretful face, or she would not have been excited.
“I thought you’d want to know before it got out.”
I nodded, backing up until my calves hit the couch. I sank onto it.
He hovered in the doorway, clearly afraid to move closer to me. I still had his iPad, the unread article brightening the screen. He sucked in a giant breath and risked a step toward me. “I have an idea. To get Layla’s version kicked off again and your version reinstated in its place.”
I glanced up at him. He’d destroyed my heart and now he seemed to be offering me non-existent hope.
He took another step toward me. “Full disclosure, it’ll also get Out House reinstated too.”
I straightened, heart thumping wildly. “That sounds too good to be true.”
He inched closer, hovering over me. “The idea is a little crazy, I admit. No, scratch that. It’s fucking insane.”
My eyebrows arched. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
He winced, and I realized I’d just delivered a heavy blow to him, right into his chest. Asking if he trusted me enough to reveal everything to me.
He sat down next to me, leaving a full cushion between us. Only a few days ago we’d been so close, and now it seemed the air molecules were rushing to keep us separated. “We get every single house on campus shut down.”
My eyes widened. “That makes no sense.”
“Yep,” a voice from the kitchen shouted. “Fucking insane.” The other girls giggled.
I stood up abruptly from the couch. “Come on.” I grabbed his hand, then immediately looked down and let go. This conversation seemed like it might veer into privacy territory and I didn’t want Harrison to have another excuse to hold back.
He stood up on shaky legs, glancing toward the upstairs. My bedroom. “Where?”
I swallowed hard. Even if this conversation stayed innocent, taking him upstairs could be risky. There would be a bed…and our minds jumping to conclusions I might not want to jump to. The only other option was the basement, which meant a giant open space for just the two of us to occupy. All that excess air would press down on my lungs, threatening to suffocate me.
I chose the basement.
Our footsteps echoed in the dank space. I sank onto the purple couch and waved my hand over one of the folding chairs, but he sat next to me. Right next to me. His thigh pressed against mine for the briefest of seconds before I nudged mine away and scooted as close as I could into the arm rest.
“Okay, so—” he started to say but I cut him off with a raised palm.
“I need to know—” I tested out my voice, swallowing hard when it came out scratchy. “Why didn’t you trust me?”
He leaned forward and cupped his knees with his palms. “It was me I didn’t trust.”
I scoffed out a laugh. “Try again.”
He leaned back into the cushions. “My heart, I mean. I was terrified I was falling for a ruse, that I’d imagined all the clues indicating you felt the same way. I knew you were after dirt on me, so keeping the most incriminating thing to myself was my only defense.” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I should have told you after you told me about your past.” He sighed, voice hitching. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
My chest ached. I’d clung to hope that maybe there was a real explanation, something that would flip his actions on the head and make me realize I’d been looking at the situation all wrong. But I had it exactly right. He really hadn’t trusted me.
He bolted upright. “But I’ll tell you now. Even if it’s too late to make things right with you, I want to show you I do trust you. There are two pieces of information no one else knows, not even Genevieve.” He peered at me out of the corner of his eye, as if he were afraid to look at me head on. “My sources.”
My skin prickled.
“The football source was one of the benched alternate players that wanted a spot on the field but would never get one. Not unless he took down the entire team and had a fresh chance to show next year’s coach his stuff.” Harrison fiddled with his watch strap. “He was my friend freshman year and I offered him a bribe in case he had any dirt. That’s what I usually do. Find the person most likely to tattle and then exploit them.”
Outside, snow tapped on the glass and branches scraped. “He didn’t get in trouble?”
Harrison shook his head. “Since he was benched, he hadn’t used the Stickum and therefore wasn’t caught.”
“And Clever Trevor?” I tried my best to keep my voice even, giving no indication as to whether my defenses were iron clad or filling with holes. I wasn’t sure myself, either.
“I knew he was from around here so I hung outside the high school one day like a creeper.” He laughed. “Asking around for any info. One guy had an older brother who was friends with him back in the day and revealed that he had a terrible singing voice in high school. That pinged all my sensors so I investigated the recording studio, spoke to some of the employees until I found the one who could be bought off.” He glanced up at me, waiting for my verdict.
I geared up to ask my next question. “And why did you stop?”
He squinted at me, brow furrowed. “Stop? I haven’t. I mean, part of this crazy insane idea to get all the other houses in trouble is to help redeem my journalist name. I’ll obviously be the one to break the story if it plays out like I hope. The New York Times is considering renegging on my internship offer,” he whispered. “Unless I can prove my worth.”
My shoulders stiffened. He wouldn’t be
at the internship? It was in that moment I realized I’d been banking that he would be, my partner in crime, still by my side. “No,” I said, also a whisper. “At the concert.”
“Oh.” He straightened, scooting a centimeter closer to me. “Well, the truth is, I hadn’t meant to start. I thought I could handle it. Being close to you. But you were so…intoxicating. I lost control.”
My heart thumped. I’d been called a lot of compliments in my life. Gorgeous. Sexy. But never something as exhilarating as intoxicating.
“I’ve always kept my hand close to my chest, but that night, I revealed my cards. When the song ended, I snapped out of it and my usual instinct took over. We were still rivals. I couldn’t let you know I was already falling for you. It might’ve ruined me. What if you didn’t feel the same way?”
“But I hadn’t stopped you. In fact, I’d encouraged it.” A chuckle escaped past my pressed lips. “That should have been a big clue,” I said even though I hadn’t exactly clued in back then either.
“Like I said before, I thought you were the one teasing me. That you were luring me so you had something to hold over me.”
I leaned my head back onto the couch cushion, my mind scattered, trying to sift through everything he’d told me tonight.
“You didn’t ask me the most important question.” A smirk played on his lips. “You asked me why I stopped but not why I started again. I mean, once you made out with Matt to make me jealous, I realized you probably did have actual feelings for me. But I’d offered to finish what we started before that.”
I tilted to him. “Okay, fine. I’ll play along. Why?”
“Because I didn’t care if you were using me. I liked you too much. I was willing to get my heart broken.”
His words drizzled through me, everything I’d wanted to hear. But even if he hadn’t cared if his heart got severed, mine was the one that had been stabbed through.
