by Kata Čuić
When I’m about five people from the doorway, I notice Jared collecting money.
Shit. I don’t have any cash on me. Does being an honorary brother negate the cover charge?
“Jared! Psst, Jared!”
He looks annoyed already, and it’s only nine o’clock. He shakes his head at me then points to the front entrance.
Well, I guess that answers the money question.
I knock, but no one answers.
“Shh! She’s here! Shut up!” Jimbo. A really loud Jimbo.
“We were all quiet until you opened your stupid mouth.” Shannon.
The door swings open, the lights go on, and I’m blasted with streamers fired at close range from New Year’s toys by a bunch of half-naked people wearing nothing but bedsheets.
I scream because … unexpected.
Then, I laugh because the living room is absolutely covered in what looks like handmade posters of congratulations and large renditions of my name. Not one of them says Sophie.
Shannon traps me in a death grip much stronger than Tim’s earlier one. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! The first woman drum major, and she’s my fucking best friend!”
I hug her back as tightly as my chicken wings can squeeze but also very carefully, so I don’t knock her sheet off her shoulders. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! The first woman trumpet section leader and herald squad captain, and she’s my fucking best friend!”
Shannon releases me with a smug grin that doesn’t fit with her rainbow-unicorn toga. “Yeah, but we’ve known how awesome I am since last spring.”
She gets pushed out of the way, literally, by Jimbo, who’s wearing a plain white sheet in the traditional style. Very authentic. Many muscles on display.
Want to hug that.
Instead, he frowns at me. “Where the fuck is your toga?” His eyes get wide. “Shit. Did I forget to tell you the first party of the year is always a toga party?”
I already knew that. He didn’t have to tell me. “I’ve been living out of a hotel for a week when I’m not crashing here. I don’t have a sheet to use.”
“Why didn’t you just steal one from the hotel?” Shannon has developed kleptomania from being in ITK, I swear.
“Jesus Christ,” Jimbo mutters, rolling his eyes. He pulls me in the door then slams it shut behind me. “Just go rip the sheet off our bed and get downstairs.”
I turn toward Shannon as he stalks away. There are a million questions running through my mind—not the least of which is his term of our bed when I have slept in that bed exactly three times—so I spew them all out in a gush of word vomit, “Is he hazing me because I’m his little? Is he drunk already? Is he not handling me getting drum major as well as he pretended to at the game?”
She takes a deep breath, then like the champion of BFFs she is, she answers all my questions in equal rapid-fire, “He didn’t mention any plans to me to haze you, but maybe it’s a way to keep Jared off everyone’s backs. He is definitely drunk, and something is definitely bothering him, but I don’t think it’s you being named head drum major because all these decorations and surprising you when you got here were all his idea.”
And yet not a single Sophie poster. Hmm.
Shannon grabs my hand and leads me toward the staircase. “Now, come on! You’ve got a toga to drape, and we’ve got a party to attend!”
The house is packed with more people than I’ve ever experienced since it’s an open party. Bodies are even spilling upstairs, already forming a line for multiple bathrooms. I guess they’re breaking the seal early tonight.
Thankfully, the third floor is roped off, so it’s quieter up here.
“I don’t want to take the sheet off his bed. Does he even have a spare set?”
“I don’t know.” Shan frowns as she glances around his room. “But I don’t, or I’d lend you mine.”
“Where did you get your super-cute sheet from?” Her sheets are teal. The toga is decidedly not.
She grins. “Goodwill.”
“Please tell me you washed before wearing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Aren’t you going to finish getting undressed?”
I glance down at my bra and panties. “Uh, I am undressed. Help me do this. I don’t want it to fall down in a half hour.”
“Okay, but just so you know, everyone downstairs is commando under these things.” She starts folding and draping Jim’s black flat sheet around my body.
“Aren’t you worried about a wardrobe malfunction?” Especially while drunk.
“That’s half the fun. Will I flash a boob, or won’t I? Who knows?”
“And Jake is okay with that?”
She grins. “Jake is hoping to get a show.”
Okay. Not sure how she’s so chill about him getting a show from more women than her tonight, but that seems like just another ITK thing. “Won’t he get a show after the party anyway?”
“No way. This is an open party, so the house won’t clear out until around two or three in the morning. The brothers will hang out for a while, helping to clean up since we don’t have pledges yet, until we’re all so tired that we just leave it for later in the afternoon then go pass out wherever we find a free spot.”
Ugh. That does not sound like fun at all. It sounds like work.
My expression must give me away because Shannon laughs as she strategically ties the sheet. “It’s a good thing I’m not planning to be a saleswoman after graduation, huh? It’s not as bad as I made it sound. You’ll have fun. Promise.”
“Since I’m the closest thing to a pledge you have, am I going to be scrubbing pukey toilets later?” We descend the stairs, and even with my underwear on beneath the sheet, I am acutely aware of the draft.
Shannon glances over her shoulder at me with surprise etched into her expression. “How do you know we make pledges do that?”
“Jimbo told me all kinds of things during my private initiation, but he didn’t say if I was expected to do those things.” I just want to know what I’m walking into before I head to the basement for my first open ITK party.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what? Always try to find out exactly what to expect?” Holy crap. I do. I do that. I think knowing what I’m up against might be another lesson Jim taught me without either of us even realizing it. If I know what to expect, I can never be disappointed again.
“No, not that. Even though you definitely do that.” She grins as we hit the main floor then has to yell over all the noise for me to hear her, “Why do you call him by different names? You used to always call him James to his face but Jimbo to anyone else. Sometimes, Jim or Jimmy. You never just settle on one name.”
Huh. She’s right. I even do that in my own head.
I yell back the first thing that pops into my mind, “It’s like he has this pocket full of masks that are always changing on his face. What I call him depends on which mask he’s wearing. Tonight, he’s wearing the Jimbo mask. He’s drunk early, he’s loud, and he’s kind of obnoxious.”
Shannon pops her eyebrows and nods like she’s not only impressed with my observation, but also in agreement. “I guess now that you’re dating, you’ll finally get to see the real man behind all the masks. And then you’ll have to find something else to call him.”
As a chant of, “Jimbo! Jimbo! Jimbo!” carries upstairs from the basement, I’m not so sure about her assumption.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The basement is so packed that there’s got to be an oxygen shortage in here. Shannon pushes her way through the crowd, dragging me behind her like a child’s pull toy. When we reach the bar, I find out why everyone was cheering for Jim.
“Keg stands? Seriously?”
Shannon barks out a short laugh. “How do you even know about keg stands?”
“I told you already. I was a party girl in high school.” I shrug. “I’m not completely ignorant. I just don’t live this life anymore.”
She shakes her head. “I feel like there’s t
his whole side of you I never got to know because you’d burned out on it before we ever met. Any chance you’ll put on the party-girl mask for me tonight? Just once? Just so I can see what I missed out on?”
Her question sparks indignation in me. I don’t exchange masks the way Jim does on a rolling, regular basis.
I glance around at the barely controlled chaos. There are bandies, but there are also plenty of strange faces. They’re all having a good time, sure, but they’re well on their way to being drunk. The president of ITK is already smashed, judging by the way he and the other drum majors are taking turns chugging cheap beer through a hose while they hold each other upside down. A crowd of women crowds around them, probably hoping for the kind of wardrobe malfunction I was worried about.
Shannon is the only sober ITK officer left, and I don’t even know what state the other brothers are in. They’re scattered throughout the basement.
“Maybe I should stay sober. Just in case things get out of control.”
“Uh, no. You just got crowned the first queen of State Band, so you are celebrating tonight.” Shannon latches on to my arm to pull me through the women gathered around the latest drum major competition. Knowing me like she does, she shouts in my ear, “We have our own ITK security, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
That does put me at ease but only a little. Mostly because I have no idea what ITK security entails.
Nate spots me first as he’s being lowered to his feet. He swipes his forearm across his mouth. “Finally! She’s here!”
“Yeah!” Tim yells, obviously already three sheets to the wind. “Come take a turn, Your Highness!”
“No. No way.” I shake my head. “I don’t like beer, and I have a really strong gag reflex. If I do that, I’ll be puking all over the floor in seconds.”
Jake’s eyes get wide. “No keg stands for Sophia. Nobody wants to clean up puke this early in the night.”
Jim laughs as he makes his way around the group to me. “Damn. I guess you really won’t ever be choking down my hot dog then.”
It’s not that he’s never said anything horrible to me before in front of other people. It’s just that it seems so out of place with the way he promised things would be between us … now.
I study his every fine feature, looking for clues while he grins at me. “Who are you going to be tonight?”
I don’t blame him if he wants to be Jimbo. We’re still new and taking a test drive. This is his last first open party as an ITK brother. His last first game as a State Marching Miner. If he wants to celebrate to his heart’s content, I won’t stop him.
And if he’s drinking to nurse a broken heart about not being named head drum major, I understand. I might have gotten wasted tonight in that case, too.
In private. In my hotel room. Alone.
His face contorts in confusion, but he exchanges that mask for a soft smile. “Yours. I’m going to be all yours.”
He bends down to place a tender, lingering kiss against my bare shoulder. I breathe a sigh of relief and also bury my nose in his hair to inhale deeply because I’m a weirdo. At least to anyone else watching, it only looks like I’m nuzzling the man who’s giving me affection.
I laugh when he slips a warm, large hand beneath my toga. “I thought you’ve been anti-sex lately?”
He caresses my hip then works his way north to cup one of my breasts. This is the most action I’ve gotten since our disastrous dance, so I moan. I can’t help it. I’m eager to find out what grown-up Jimmy is capable of even though I don’t want to remotely think about how he learned it. Or with whom. Just as I’m forgetting where we are and ready to launch my own exploration, he straightens.
“Okay. Good.” He removes his hand.
What? That’s it?
I’ll give him credit though. He’s committed to showing me this isn’t just about sex.
He frowns as he glances around at all the action. “Some of the guys here will try to pull down the togas for a free show. Hell, some of the women, too. I just wanted to make sure you’re covered if anything happens.”
“Are you covered?” I accidentally glare at the women who are still hovering nearby. The ones who are hoping for a free Jimbo show.
He grins. He’s admitted he enjoys my jealousy, and I’m starting to get used to that. Both his enjoyment of it and my admitting to it.
“I am.” He reaches behind the bar and procures the same travel mug etched into my memory for all time. My fresh happiness evaporates with one look at that potential hell. “This has not left my sight since I poured it for you. Whiskey and cola, just how you like it.” He wraps my hand around it. “It does not leave your hand from now on unless you give it to me to hold for you. If you want to switch it out for water, no one will know the difference. You’ll look like you fit in. The way a drum major should.”
Oh. So, he’s my ITK Big, Jimbo, tonight. With a dash of protective, proud co-drum major sprinkled in. That mask is firmly labeled as intelligent, mature Jim.
His smile changes. It’s a little sharper, a little more lust-driven. It’s Jimmy. His gaze runs the length of my body. “Damn though. You wear a toga better than anyone I’ve ever seen. You look so good in my sheets.”
As much as I was hoping for more glimpses of the new, as of yet unnamed, version of James Fossoway, I’m happy to hear him refer to my clothing as his sheets. I still don’t want to move too fast.
He smooths his hands over my shoulders to my bare back and bites his lip as his gaze travels south to my breasts. I don’t care if he feels overshadowed by his professional-football-playing man-whore of an older brother. Because that sight right there? It is the absolute sexiest thing I have ever seen.
He hauls me against his barely covered chest. This kiss is more reminiscent of Jimmy. It’s harsh, frantic, wild. Like I’m one of Pavlov’s dogs, my nipples tighten against the lace of my bra, my panties dampen between my legs, and my center throbs to the beat of the music in the background. I’m a band geek that way. I can’t help it. I’m also more than ready to hump his leg on the dance floor with no regrets.
He releases me before I’m ready then thrusts his fist into the air with a shout, making me jump in surprise. “My girlfriend is the first woman to be named head drum major of the State Miners!”
A chorus of applause and cheers rains down on me until I’m forced to take cover in the crook of his neck. The weight of admiration is much heavier than that of being elevated to the status of girlfriend without so much as a discussion. I have mental whiplash from all the masks he’s rotating tonight, not to mention from the anxiety of the kind of party I’ve never attended before.
He wraps his arms around me like a shield and whispers in my ear, “Enjoy it, sweetheart. You have more than earned it.”
I lift my head because he’s right. I have. I have worked my ass off for this.
“Thank you!” I call, followed immediately by a response of laughter.
If they were hoping for a speech, they picked the wrong head drum major.
“Shots!” Nate demands, pounding on the bar. I’m not sure he needs any more alcohol.
“Just do one.” Jim smiles as he places a hand on my back to turn me toward the bar. “It’s tradition. Each section has an assigned time. Everyone who’s here will do their traditional section chant then down their favorite shot. Drum majors are always first in line for everything, so we go first with shots.”
“What’s our traditional chant and shot?”
Tim glances at me like I’m nuts. “Keep the beat and whiskey. You know that. We’ve already done it.”
“That’s what all the drum majors have done in years past?” I thought that was something special we’d created together. “You told me drum majors never did a sectional shot of their own before.”
“They didn’t.” Jake erases my confusion with his words. “That’s what we do this year. We’re changing things up.” He raises his freshly filled shot glass to me. “It’s only fitting.”
“Keep the beat! Keep the beat! Keep the beat!”
The whiskey goes down like a lightning bolt.
Or maybe that’s just the mood in the air. Everything feels electric. Heavy with the potential for beauty and destruction. Or maybe that’s just the whiskey.
The guys all get wide-eyed and excited like kids on Christmas when the first chords of a really old song start playing. They abandon the bar for the dance floor, and the rest of ITK follows suit.
What happens next is … hilarious. I’ve heard of line dancing, but that’s usually done to country music while wearing boots. This? This is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. They’ve created their own choreographed dance to an old ’70s rock song. The women are on one side, and the men are on the other while they dance-shout at each other about … actually, I have no idea about what.
I sip at my whiskey and cola, watching the spectacle and feeling a twinge of regret. They’re all smiles, singing, laughing, and dancing. I’m just a foreigner in a strange land. Even if Jim had explained this to me at my own initiation, he never could have done it justice.
Jared shakes his head with a smile. I’m not even sure when he arrived at my side, too lost in my voyeurism.
“Why aren’t you out there? You’re in ITK, too.” At least I’m pretty sure they didn’t kick him out. He’s here, and I’m Jim’s little, so …
“Because you need a partner.” He gestures, and sure enough, the guys are now twirling the girls around their bodies. It’s like human bumper cars, and the crashes are half the fun. “Like Jimbo has. Shouldn’t that be you out there?”
Jim is laughing at his partner, one of the sophomore saxophones, as she catches her breath with her hands on his chest. The song continues, and he places his hands on her hips while they sway to the beat and sing to each other.
Jared’s words are meant to bait me, but jealousy doesn’t flame in the pit of my stomach. It’s intimate, but it’s all for show. Shannon and Jake are getting into it in an entirely different way. Even though they’re performing the same moves as everyone else, they’re all wandering hands and carefully placed kisses between singing the words without a centimeter of space between their bodies.
