by Rachel Shane
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the Greek Org. The room was a bustle of activity with the workers zipping from one area to the next. Large brown packing boxes huddled on desktops and blocked walkways. I skirted around a few taped boxes and sidled up to the empty reception desk. A woman glanced up from a few feet away where she was stuffing files into a box, and huffed. “We’re closed.”
I crossed my arms and used my most authoritative voice. “It’s extremely urgent we speak with Mrs. Comstock.”
“Mrs. Comstock no longer works here.” The woman stabbed her hand at the activity going on around her, everyone packing. “None of us do.”
Whispers threaded through the brigade of presidents behind us. I shifted from one foot to another as dread welled in my stomach. “Well, there must be someone we can speak to about getting our houses reinstated. Who will be overseeing the suspension for the rest of the school year?”
The woman heaved a heavy sigh, her heels clacking as she stormed toward us. “No one. As of today, the entire Greek System at Throckmorton University has been abolished.”
The chatter increased, and my pulse pounded.
“Wait, what?” I asked.
The woman circled behind the reception desk and slapped a piece of paper on top. We all leaned in. My eyes landed on the Dean’s signature. “I’m sorry, but the Greek Organization at Throckmorton University is gone for good. Everyone must vacate the houses by the end of the semester. Beginning January First, almost all your houses will be demolished to make way for new dorms.” She lifted the phone to her ear. “Now, I need you to leave or I’ll be calling campus security.”
Her words thudded into me, peppering me with bullet holes. I stood there in a daze, blinking at the bright white room and the truth that beat in tune to my heart. I single handedly destroyed the Greek System.
“If it’s any consolation,” the woman said. “This had been in the works for a while. We just moved up the timeline after last night’s fiasco.”
I followed the funeral march outside until a blast of frigid air hit me like a slap in the face. The circle of presidents stood there, blinking at one another, each of us caught in the same daze.
“What. The. Fuck,” one of the guys said.
“No more Greek System? For real?” the Epsilon Phi Phi president whispered.
“Shit,” the Deke president punched a concrete gargoyle guarding the staircase. “Where the hell am I going to live?”
Layla’s lip quivered but she stood upright, the only one of us who clearly already had a plan forming beneath her breastbone. After all, her house hadn’t been destroyed. At least not the one she used as her hazing hostel.
“We could all go underground,” I suggested. “No more rules to abide by. No more—”
“Houses to hold parties in,” the Beta Chi president added, clenching his jaw.
I glanced at Harrison, who stood there stiff, not blinking.
“It’s all over,” someone whispered.
A girl shook her head, blond locks swinging. “No, now it’s just beginning. You think Greek Week was competitive? There’s going to be hundreds of people vying for slots in whatever few apartments near campus are left.”
All heads perked up. I could see the moment the challenge clicked into place in everyone’s minds. They sized each other up as if this was the start of a race. The first one to move was the blonde girl. She turned on her heels and ran away, probably heading toward the Office for Off Campus housing. In a flash, nearly everyone else charged after her. All except Layla, who strutted away, a swing in her steps. And Harrison, who raked his hand through his hair. “I’m going to be out of a house too.”
I squeezed his hand. “Well, I mean, I was planning on having you crashing at my place almost every night anyway…” Plus there would be the sublet in NYC. Last night we’d searched listings and put in an bid for one right near Union Square.
“I like the way you think, but…” He broke away from my grasp and started pacing. “Isn’t the language the Greek Org used a little strange? Almost all the houses. That tells me there will still be at least one standing.”
I shook my head. “They aren’t going to reinstate one lone fraternity. And they’re definitely not going to reinstate it to Out House.”
“I know.” He flashed me the biggest grin, even bigger than his trademark smirks. “But maybe they’ll rent it out to a new club on campus.” He strung his arm over my shoulders. “So what does Erin know about the secret societies here? And how would she feel about starting one?”
His words threaded through me and lifted me up. Rho Sigma and Out House had a chance to live again. To one up Layla once more.
To fix what we broke.
Our hands swung in unison on the way back to my room/his new room/our future together.
The End.
Turn the page for a sneak peak at the upcoming prequel novella, Cunning Linguist, which tells the story of how Fallon met her boyfriend Liam. It comes out December 4th!
Enjoy reading MASTER PROBATION? Click here to join my mailing list and you'll receive a free prequel short story that reveals how Corey and Harrison went from potential frat brothers to sworn rivals! (Short story will release in November.) Also, please consider writing an honest review on Amazon because reviews are so helpful to authors. Thanks for reading!
Fallon Horowitz came to Throckmorton University buoyed by her art talent, which earned her both a scholarship and fame back home. But at college, her classmates pick apart every brush stroke and her professors dole out D’s like candy. She has one last shot to hack it in the art program: a student gallery showcase with a public critique by the professors—the equivalent of being hanged in the town square.
But then she meets Liam, a ruggedly cute acting major who has an idea for how Fallon can win over the professors and gain back her notoriety. An idea that involves a nude mold of his exceptional body. In exchange, she agrees to help with his own project: winning back the ex-girlfriend who dumped him only hours before. But the more time Liam and Fallon spend together, the harder she falls for the guy who’s still hung up on someone else.
Fallon
I STARED AT THE selection of condoms in front of me, blinking at the variety of choices. Flavored. Ribbed. Lubricated. Studded bareskin. Six packs. Twelve packs. Magnums. Half an aisle devoted to the selection of sex protection. I glanced down at the red basket swinging in my hands and then back up at the shelves. This basket wasn’t big enough. I was going to need a cart.
I stalked back to the front and curled my palms around a metal cart that rattled as I pushed it as if it were hell bent on announcing my intentions. Sweat pooled in the crooks of my elbows and blood jumped preemptively to my cheeks. It wasn’t that I was a prude or even a virgin, it was that I was a college student. And when an eighteen-year-old loads up on sex supplies, certain inferences are made. Even if those insinuations are entirely off base.
When I returned to the aisle, I brushed past a cute guy studying by the pain relievers in the other half of the aisle. His dirty blond hair was cut short and looked like it might flop in a rush of curls if he let it grow. He stepped aside to let me pass, offering a small smile that unnerved me completely. I stopped in front of the Tylenol and pretended to peruse. We stood one foot away from each other and every atom in my body grew hyper aware of his presence. Leave, please, I silently begged. You’re too cute to buy condoms in front of.
But he just kept standing there as if the decision for which pain reliever to buy was as difficult as choosing a major. Musky cologne wafted toward me and he flourished a hand toward the boxes in front of him as if to be a gentleman and let me choose first.
“Um, thanks.” I reached for the first box in front of me. Maximum strength gel caps. Sure.
He kept squinting at the choices, so with a huff, I pushed my cart away and circled to a few more aisles before doubling back to the condom one. And of course, he was still standing there, baffled by the array of acetaminophen.
He glanced back at me and quirked an eyebrow—and a crooked smile that made my heart melt. “Regretting your choice already?”
I pushed my blond hair behind my ear. “You can never have too much Tylenol, that’s what I always say.” And condoms, apparently. I grabbed another red box of pain relievers and held it up to him. “I’ve heard this one is good.” After all, you couldn’t really go wrong with any of them. They all basically did nothing.
“Thanks, I’ll give it a shot.” He grabbed the box, our fingers brushing. His smile was infectious and I found myself returning it.
He raked his hand behind his dirty blond hair. “I’m Liam, by the way.”
“Fallon,” I said. My eyes drifted back toward the condoms and he followed my line of vision, raising a brow.
He straightened, probably taking a hint that wasn’t there. “I’ll, um, leave you to it.” He fled from the aisle as if it were on fire.
I jerked my cart into motion and didn’t waste time. I grabbed the entire stack of Trojans and dropped them into the cart. The Durex joined the Trojans, and so on, until I’d cleared the entire section of condoms. My cart overflowed with wobbling boxes but I pushed on to the lubes and jammed the tubes between the condoms in my cart. When only dust remained on the shelf, I peered at the contents of my cart and pursed my lips.
I needed more.
I swung my cart through the store, keeping along the back aisle rather than the front where a group of girls were gabbing while they perused the make-up. The condoms rattled in my cart and I realized my mistake. I’d come into the store in daylight. I should have laid low until three a.m. and made my purchase then. Except this was college. It would be swarming after three a.m. as well.
I finally found a clerk stocking shelves in the school supply aisle. I charged toward her, cart rattling, and she swung around, eyes widening at either my stash or the fact that I was pushing my cart right toward her. I stopped. “Hi,” I said, in my best flustered voice.
She couldn’t drag her eyes away from my overflowing cart of contraceptives. “Do you need help?”
The way she asked it seemed like she thought I might be asking for instructions for how to use the items in my cart. I lifted my chin and tried to appear as authoritative as I could despite my red cheeks and my five foot stature. “I was wondering if you have any more…” I swallowed hard. The word condom lodged in my throat like peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth. Instead I waved my hand over my cart. “Of these?”
She blinked at me. “You need more…condoms?”
A sharp laugh from a few feet away drew my attention. When I whipped my head behind me, I spotted Liam leaning by the notebooks, legs crossed at the ankles, watching this display with an amused expression.
Fire jumped to my cheeks. “Never mind.” I pushed my cart fast away from the scene of the crime. But footsteps loped in step with mine, a shadow looming over the card.
“I admit,” he said. “When people told me I’d experience a lot of new things in college, I never quite anticipated this one.” There was a hint of humor in his voice and I imagined all the scenarios he was be imagining. I was a slut. A hooker. A pledge conducting a horrible hazing task.
“It’s for my major.” My sweaty palms slid off the bar, but I squeezed them tight and pushed on toward the check out lanes.
He matched me, stride for stride. “Let me guess. You’re majoring in…film making? And your first assignment is creating a porno?” He was laughing though, clearly not serious.
“Not even close.” I reached the front and squeezed my cart into one of the aisles. The cashier’s mouth flopped open. I started throwing boxes of condoms onto the conveyor belt that piled up faster than the clerk could ring them up.
He picked up a few boxes and loaded them onto the belt. “You’re majoring in sex ed and your first assignment involves going to nearby schools and passing out contraception as a way to spread knowledge?”
“I like that one. Let’s go with that.”
Liam lifted the box of Tylenol. “Do you actually need this?”
I bit my lip. “No.”
He threw his head back in laughter. “I knew it. I’ve never seen anyone look so suspicious.”
Want to read the rest? Preoder CUNNING LINGUIST now!
Other titles by Rachel Shane
Young Adult
Alice in Wonderland High
Kasey Screws Up The World
New Adult
Cunning Linguist, An Underground Sorority Prequel Novella (Fallon's Story)
Premature Evacuation, Underground Sorority Book 1 (Mackenzie's story)
Master Probation, Underground Sorority Book 2 (Bianca's story)
A Bone to Pick, Underground Sorority Book 3 (Erin's Story) - Coming early 2016
Thank you to my support system of Cady Vance, Chandler Baker, Naticia Hutchins, and Denise Jaden. Your encouragement keeps me going. Thanks especially to Naticia for your excellent copy edits.
Thanks to my online groups that support me in numerous ways: Binders, KBoards, Ladies Noir, Summer Moms 2012, and various other private Facebook groups.
Thanks also to Crista Finnochio, Erika Shenker, Chelsey Wolf, Amanda Simon, and all my other friends at Syracuse University who inspired me to write this.
Thanks to Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Damon from Vampire Diaries, Logan Echolls from Veronica Mars, and Jordan Catalano from My So-Called Life, who inspired me to write a bad boy who turns good, which is my favorite romance trope ever.
Thanks to Scrivener, which saved me from having to look at the third world country that is Microsoft Word. I love this writing program so much.
And of course, thanks to my loving family, for your continual support. My parents and sister Becca have loved every book I’ve written, even that one I wrote when I was seventeen that had no character names or plot.
And last but not least, special thanks to my husband Josh and my daughter Quinn for their continual love and support.
Rachel Shane studied Creative Writing at Syracuse University and now works as a digital Project Manager in New York City. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, young daughter, and a basement full of books.
Sign up for her newsletter here to get exclusive content, including a free short story prequel that chronicles how Corey Taft and Harrison Wagner went from bros to rivals during pledging.
www.rachelshane.com
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Cunning Linguist Cover
CUNNING LINGUIST: Chapter 1 (first two pages)
Other titles by Rachel Shane
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
r>