Never Have You Ever (The Love Game Book 1)
Page 4
“Say it again and you can find a new psych tutor.” Then I turned my attention to the evil spawn masquerading as a sorority president. “Aamee, to what do I owe the pleasure?” My voice was saccharine and my smile so broad, I could’ve been portraying the Joker.
Lazarus’s campus wasn’t enormous, but it was big enough that the odds were against my running into the two people who caused my eviction. Fate seemed to be having a great time at my expense lately.
Aamee waved her phone in front of me and said, “I just wanted to come check in on the newest internet sensation.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Had she been huffing glue? Surely there was a Zeta Eta Chi bylaw against that.
“You’re all over Instagram saying your English professor likes dick. I’m surprised at you, Sophia. You always seemed more open-minded and…proper than that.”
It took a few seconds for her words to fully sink in, but when they did, I would’ve sworn my heart actually dropped out of my body. “I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, I think you did. I have the video to prove it.”
“That’s not at all what happened.” And why the hell was someone filming me anyway? Though I knew the answer. Some students were too lazy to take notes and filmed the classes instead. I’d likely been caught on film accidentally.
“It kinda looked like what happened,” Carter added.
I shot my gaze to him. “You saw it too! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I meant to. It’s how I knew where you were. Then I got distracted.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “I wasn’t talking about Dr. Cranston. I just had bad timing.”
Aamee took a step closer to me. “Whoever you were talking about, you didn’t sound as accepting as I’d expect a Zeta Eta Chi sister to be. I’m not sure we have any room for bigots in our house.”
The heart I thought I’d lost moments ago began pumping blood furiously throughout my body as anger took over. Pointing a finger at Aamee, I warned, “You better not twist this into something it’s not. I was talking to Emma. She’ll vouch for me. I wasn’t saying it to be negative. I was merely stating a fact.”
She scoffed. “Of course your little lapdog would vouch for you. But the video doesn’t lie.”
I wanted to yell at her that of course the video fucking lied because I’d lied in the video about Brody. Or Drew. Or… Whoever.
“I swear to whatever demonic god you worship that if you try to kick me out over this, I’ll—” I caught myself before I said something that would actually warrant me being kicked out of my sorority.
“You’ll what?” she asked.
“I’ll fight you tooth and nail on it,” I said, more calmly this time. “You’re letting your personal feelings toward me influence your actions as president. It’s unfair and an abuse of your position.”
“So says you.”
“You’re being ridiculous. My saying someone is gay isn’t even offensive.”
“It is when you say it like it’s a disease. And when you’re gossiping about a professor.”
“I already told you I wasn’t talking about Dr. Cranston.” I’d never wanted to hit someone as badly as I did in that moment. She was being deliberately obtuse, twisting the narrative to fit the plot she’d already created.
She cocked her hip and rested her hand on it. “Then who were you talking about?”
“How is that any of your business?”
“I doubt it was the business of your English class either, but it didn’t stop you from announcing it to them.”
“Oh really? Did you hear a name mentioned on that video?”
“I should sell tickets to this,” Carter interjected. “How would you girls feel about wrestling in pudding?”
I looked at him, bewildered. “Why are you still here?”
“Why would I leave? This is awesome.”
“Yeah, well, I’m done entertaining idiots today.” I pointed to Aamee’s phone. “Do your worst with that. You’ll be laughed out of the room.”
To emphasize a confidence I didn’t feel, I whirled around with purpose and walked directly into a firm chest. Two hands shot out to grab me and keep me from losing my balance. It wasn’t the exit I’d pictured, but I could work with it.
“Excuse me,” I said as I started to move around the person I’d bumped into. Before I made it a full step, I let my eyes drift up to see who it was. “What even is my life right now?”
“Hey, Sis,” Drew said. “Funny seeing you here.”
“Hilarious.” I eyed the cast of characters surrounding me. Each of them represented how terribly off course my life had drifted. When had my entire existence become a Shakespearean tragedy?
“Hey, Brody,” Aamee said, practically purring. It was gross.
“Oh, uh…hey. Gina, right?”
Aamee’s face looked like she’d just sucked on a lemon. Score one for Drew. I didn’t know if he’d intentionally dissed her or if it had been a legitimate mistake, and I didn’t care.
“It’s Aamee,” she corrected.
“She spells it with two a’s and two e’s. Wild, right?” Carter explained before extending his hand. “How’s it going, man? I’m Carter.”
Drew accepted the handshake. “Brody. Sophia’s older brother.”
Carter looked back and forth between Drew and me. “I can see the resemblance.”
I looked at him like he’d grown an extra head.
“We get that a lot,” Drew said.
“I don’t think you look anything alike. You could be a model, Brody.” Aamee moved closer to him and lifted her hand as if she was about to rub it down his arm. Or some other body part.
“Oh my God, stop flirting with him. He’s the one I was talking about in the video.”
Aamee jerked back and then froze in place, clearly surprised.
Drew, who still had his arm around me, turned his head so he could look down at me. “You were talking about me on video?” He looked nervous, which made me realize he was worried I’d been talking about his real identity.
I opened my mouth to say something that would reassure him, but Carter beat me to the punch. “Huh. Never would’ve guessed. That’s cool, though. I’m all about equal rights and shit.”
“Um, thanks?” Poor Drew looked so lost, and I felt bad that I’d made his life more difficult.
“You’re really gay?” Aamee blurted out.
Drew’s head recoiled a bit. “I am?”
I elbowed him slightly.
“I mean, I am. Yes. Have been for a while now.”
Jesus Christ.
Aamee looked like she was ready to breathe fire. Not only had she lost her shot with my “brother,” but the video that she thought would be my undoing was useless.
Game, set, match, bitch.
“Sophia never mentioned she had a brother. What year are you?” Carter asked.
Drew looked a little lost for a second before he fell back into his role. “Yeah, she doesn’t like to mention me because I’m so much better at everything than she is. Jealous little thing. I’m a senior. A very senior senior.”
“He should be graduated and gainfully employed,” I corrected. It was what I would’ve said to Brody, and Drew had just called me jealous, so he had it coming. Though I had about three dozen shots coming if we were keeping score. Outing a straight man had to put me pretty far in the hole.
“I feel ya, man,” Carter said. “Thank God for redshirting. What’s your major?”
“Business.”
“I’m a communications major.”
Drew nodded like Carter had announced he was reversing climate change. “Very cool. We always need people who know how to talk.”
The look Carter gave Drew was full of admiration. As if someone finally got it. “Real shit, man. No one talks anymore. It’s all about Facebook and Snapchat and all that bullshit. I’m going to bring conversation back to communicating.”
“Right on, man,” Drew said before moving into some bro backslappin
g thing with Carter. Maybe Drew was gay. He’d certainly established a bromance pretty damn fast.
“Okay, well, I’m going to go…anywhere else,” I said. “See you guys around. Unfortunately.”
“Are we still on for our study date Monday?” Carter asked me.
“Yeah, sure.” My voice sounded resigned, but the truth was, I didn’t mind helping Carter. I guess, deep down, I had a fondness for nice guys with no aspirations. “We should probably meet at the library, though.”
“Ugh, I hate the library,” Carter complained. “Librarians creep me out.”
“Librarians?” I held up my hand. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”
“I do,” Drew supplied.
Carter opened his mouth to explain, but I cut him off. “Library. Six. Be there.”
“I don’t wanna,” Carter whined. “Come to my place instead.”
“No. I told you last time I was never coming back over there. It smells like feet and semen.”
“Ew,” Aamee murmured. At least we agreed on something.
“Come to my place,” Drew said. “Well, our place now.”
“Wow, really? You sure?” Carter asked.
“Totally. You can tell me about your librarian-phobia.”
Carter shivered. “It’s the stuff of nightmares. But you’re on. Soph, can you text me the address?”
“Sure.” I had to push the word out through gritted teeth.
The last thing I needed was people further infiltrating the cocoon of lies we were spinning.
Chapter Five
D R E W
After I left Sophia and the others, I had to book it to my next class. I’d probably get an earful from Sophia later. She hadn’t looked too thrilled that I’d invited Carter over to our place, but I hadn’t even thought about it at the time.
My mom had always told me I had the gift of gab. It was what made me a great bartender. Unfortunately, she’d also told me that my mouth would get me into trouble one day. She was probably equally right about that. Good thing Sophia’s mouth had gotten her into trouble today too. Maybe she’d go easy on me.
I entered the room my—well, Brody’s—business ethics class was in and nodded to a few people who looked my way. I took a seat near the front, like I always did, because I was here to learn something.
Bartending had been a gig I’d kind of fallen into, but I had to admit, it suited me. I was good with people, and I was responsible and competent enough to handle running a business. All that was missing was knowing how to run a business.
The situation with Brody had been a giant stroke of luck. Getting to take some business courses would take me one step closer to opening my own bar one day. And I was going to take full advantage of the opportunity, whether I had to pretend to be gay or someone else entirely. Or both.
I didn’t come from a family of overachievers. My parents’ definition of success was to be able to stock up on groceries and have enough left over to buy themselves cigarettes. They weren’t bad people, but they never supported us the way they should have. They never pushed me or my siblings to be better, to work harder, to achieve more, to be something. It was why I didn’t talk to them much anymore.
The professor, Dr. Sherman, came in shortly after me and started class. I wrote down almost everything she said. A lot of people typed their notes on laptops. Brody had left me his MacBook, but I wasn’t quick enough at typing. I was an old-school guy in a new-school world. So pen and paper it was for me.
When the professor asked questions, I did my best to participate when I could. There was no denying I was missing some background information, having never taken any of the intro courses, but I was getting by. It required a bit more research on my part, but that was okay.
Toward the end of class, Dr. Sherman set her papers aside, leaned back against her desk, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“As we discussed at the beginning of the semester when I reviewed the syllabus, there is a group component in the requirements of this class. Now that we have sufficient background into the ethics of business, you’re ready to delve into that group project. I will allow you to choose your groups, but be sure to choose wisely. It is a team effort and a team grade.
“Once you’ve put yourselves into groups of four, you’ll peruse the cases I’ve posted online, choose one, and as a group, you’ll tackle the case questions that accompany it. You’ll present your findings during the last week of classes. The format as well as an example are provided for you on Blackboard. Any questions?”
When no one spoke up, Dr. Sherman smiled. “All right. Once you’ve signed up for a case and worked out the logistics of working with your group, you’re free to go.”
Most of the other students jumped up and got into groups with their friends. It all happened quickly, and it fascinated me how people were typically drawn to others like them. It was the most homogeneous grouping process I’d ever seen—not that I’d seen very many.
But then there were the outliers. The wallflowers, the mutes, the geeks, and the rebels who were too cool for group work—sort of like a collegiate Breakfast Club. I let my eyes drift over them for a few seconds before I got up from my seat and approached a pretty girl with thick-framed brown glasses and curly hair. She looked like she’d rather burn her bra than pair up with any of the giggling girls in her vicinity. I had to have her in my group.
“Hi. I’m Brody. Can I be in your group?”
She looked around. “I don’t have a group.”
“Can we start one?”
“Are you in a frat?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Do you play a sport for the school?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Can you read above a seventh-grade level?”
“Sure can.”
She shrugged. “Looks like we’re starting a group.”
“Sweet. Come on, he’s next,” I said as I pointed at a guy in a button-down shirt and khaki pants. He always participated in discussions, and I’d bet my left nut that he’d already read all the cases. He was looking around anxiously, clearly too shy to approach anyone.
The girl, whose name I hadn’t gotten yet, looked at me curiously but gathered her things and followed me over to him.
“Hey, wanna join our group?” I asked him.
He stood up quickly, almost causing his chair to fall backward. “Me? I mean, yes, uh, yes. Absolutely.”
I extended a hand toward him. “I’m Brody.”
“Toby,” he replied as he took my hand.
“Why didn’t you offer to shake my hand?” Mystery Girl asked me.
“Because you looked like you were seconds away from gutting me where I stood.”
She seemed pleased with this answer. “I’m Aniyah.”
“It’s great to meet you both,” Toby said, smiling wide. “I guess we need to find one more.”
I scanned the room and zeroed in on a guy in the corner who was hunkered down in his seat and appeared to be sleeping. I wasn’t buying it. Granted, I hadn’t seen him take a single note since I’d been in the class, but the guy always handed in his assignments on time, and Dr. Sherman didn’t seem the type to let someone get away with dozing through class. I had a good feeling about him, and I was used to trusting my gut.
“Him.”
Aniyah and Toby looked at where I was pointing. “Really?” Aniyah asked. “Him?”
“Trust me.”
“Yes, because I just love trusting complete strangers,” Aniyah muttered, but she and Toby followed me over to where the guy was sitting.
“Need a group?” I asked him.
He wore a knit beanie that was pulled down almost to his eyebrows, but I could still see some of his shaggy blond hair under it. He opened his eyes and let them rove over our group before sighing deeply in what sounded like defeat. “I guess.”
“Great. I’m Brody, this is Aniyah, and that’s Toby.”
“You can call me Slayer.”
“Nope. That’s not
going to work for me,” Aniyah said.
A small smile quirked “Slayer’s” lips before he pressed them back into a firm line. “Dragon?”
Aniyah gave him an annoyed look.
“Warlord?”
Aniyah looked at me. “There’s got to be someone else. Anyone else.”
“Fine, fine, my name’s Xander,” he conceded.
“Welcome to the group, Xander,” I said. I clapped my hands together and asked, “Has anyone looked through the cases yet?”
Toby didn’t disappoint. “I have. And I did a little preliminary research to see which might yield the most information.”
“And which would that be?” I asked.
“The Polaski Mine. It’s a gold and copper mine that would bring in a lot of jobs and could financially rejuvenate an area. But it’s within the limits of a city, so it would necessitate the relocation of houses, schools, and businesses. Not to mention it’d be a freaking mine in the middle of a city. There’s a lot to consider, and I think it would be interesting to dissect.”
“Any objections?” I asked.
“Nah, that would’ve been my first choice too,” Xander said. “Though the Chiquita Banana case also looked cool.”
Aniyah’s eyes widened as she looked at Xander like he was an alien. She clearly hadn’t expected that he’d have looked into the cases already. But that had been something I’d been banking on. He presented as a slacker, but I bet Xander had some serious brainpower under that beanie. The kind that didn’t require note taking.
I had a great feeling about this group.
Chapter Six
D R E W
Sophia and I had been living together for over a week, and it was different from anything I’d ever experienced. I would’ve thought growing up with three sisters would’ve prepared me for all the makeup and lotions and body sprays and perfumes and hair—so much hair!—in the bathroom, but I’d either forgotten about how…female everything was, or I’d blocked it out like some sort of estrogen-fueled PTSD. I was suddenly getting flashbacks of disposable razors and leave-in conditioner.
Every time I went into our bathroom to shave or take a shower, more of Sophia’s beauty products seemed to have appeared on the sink, which was already struggling for space in the tiny bathroom. Though I guess I was partially to blame for her things ending up on the sink because I only kept two of my own items out—deodorant and my toothpaste. Even my toothbrush was put away in the medicine cabinet. No way I’d risk getting a long dark hair stuck to it.