Thirsty Thursday at the frat house. Seemed like they had a theme for every night, but this one was different than before.
It was a sausage fest with at least twenty frat members hanging around, leisurely drinking various types of beer. And honestly, I was relieved. I couldn’t do another round of musical closets without Kayla, and I wasn’t interested in being hungover for my classes in the morning.
“Do you have any idea what we’re doing tonight?” Jeff sidled up next to me, holding two Coronas.
He extended one my way, but I politely declined with a shake of my head. No matter how much I tried to like beer, it still tasted like bread soaked in piss.
“No clue,” I replied. “The text I got just said to show up at eight.”
“Yeah. I was kinda hoping for another raffle,” he said, voicing the opposite of my thoughts. “They weren’t kidding about the girls being obsessed with this frat. But the girl I got stuck in the closet with? Fucking batshit crazy.”
“In a good way?”
“No. All she wanted to do was ask about some dude named Cameron. Apparently, they broke up last spring and she’s still hanging around hoping to make him jealous. It was lame.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “To be honest, I wasn’t much of a ladies’ man in high school. I was kind of a nerd.” He glanced around the living room, like he was afraid someone might’ve overheard his confession.
Amused, I shrugged. “Your secret’s safe with me. I was the same. Still am.”
“I thought you said you have a girlfriend.”
“I do. It’s recent though. We were friends first,” I told him. “But, hey, I think her roommate is single. Maybe we could double date or something.”
“Yeah?” He grinned. “That’d be cool.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a cowbell. An honest-to-God cowbell. Max was standing on the makeshift stage, banging away at it to gain everyone’s attention.
“Thanks for being here tonight, guys. If there’s one thing you should know about Pi Kappa Epsilon, it’s that loyalty is everything. We’re all brothers here. Family.” He spread his arms, gesturing toward all the polo-wearing dudes to his right. “But if you want to be part of this family, you have to prove your loyalty. The next couple of weeks will be a time for brotherhood and bonding. During this trial run, we’re going to have some tests for you. Through this process, there’s one rule all of you must obey. Pi Kap traditions are special and should be kept a secret,” he informed us. “What happens at these meetings should be told to no one. Am I understood?”
We all nodded.
“Fantastic. If you pass all of these tests, you’re in.” He paused dramatically. “Not all of you will pass.”
With that ominous statement, he dropped the instrument and motioned for us to follow him through the French doors out into the backyard.
As we all shuffled after him like a herd of cattle, I tried to ignore the douchebag alarm going off in my head. This Max guy was obviously on some kind of power trip, but that was probably common with being president. He’d been nothing but nice to me so far, and if I wanted to have everything he was offering, I needed to play along.
Not surprisingly, the outside of the house was just as nice as inside. There was a stone patio with several lawn chairs and a fire pit built in the middle.
Behind that, there was a large backyard, complete with a sand volleyball court. The net had been taken down, and four long rows were divided with green streamers, going from one end to the other. A white table with red cups full of beer sat at the closest end, Hula Hoops were placed midway, and at the far end there were four baseball bats sticking up in the sand.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Max began. “We’re gonna have some fun tonight. Just a friendly competition for our potential members. The winner will be exempt from the next loyalty test, and believe me, you don’t want to have to do it.” He ended his warning with a laugh and several of the older members snickered. Eyeing us new guys, he asked, “Did you memorize the Greek alphabet?”
We all muttered, “Yes.”
During pottery class, I’d read over the card until every syllable was engrained into my brain.
“This is Cameron,” Max introduced a blond dude in a purple polo.
What was it with these guys and pastel polo shirts? I looked down at my plain dark blue T-shirt. I liked my simple style and I didn’t want to change it.
“If you haven’t already met him,” Max went on, “you should know he’s the vice president of Pi Kappa Epsilon, and you’ll do whatever he tells you to. Remember, someday one of you could be leaders here, and it comes with a lot of perks.”
Jeff nudged my arm. “That’s the dude that girl wouldn’t shut up about.”
“No wonder,” I remarked. “He’s the VP.”
Cameron stepped forward. “I’ll be demonstrating the race. My time is unmatched,” he boasted. “But don’t worry—I won’t be competing. Watch closely, and I hope you boys are thirsty!”
Walking over to the table he looked to Max, who had a stopwatch out.
“Go!” he shouted, and Cameron chugged a full cup of beer in a frighteningly fast manner before sprinting through the sand.
Picking up one of the toy loops, he began rotating it around his middle while shouting the Greek alphabet. When he was done, he dropped it and ran to the end where he bent at the waist and placed his forehead on the knob of the baseball bat. He spun around five times before running—or quickly staggering was more like it—back to our end.
Everyone clapped.
He gave a dizzy bow. “That’s how it’s done, folks.”
My face screwed up at the thought of chugging the liquid bread piss, but I knew I could do it. Beating these guys would definitely be a challenge. In the past, I never would’ve attempted a race, but I was confident that I could do a simple sprint. I was stronger now.
I could handle this.
I couldn’t handle it.
Was I stronger? Yes. But invincible? No.
And that became very clear on the run back.
My mind was foggy from the beer and dizzy from spinning around that damn bat, but I was in the lead.
I was actually winning!
Forgetting I wasn’t on solid ground, I went full-speed ahead and the squishy sand slipped under my feet. I twisted something in my knee and went down hard.
I tried to get up and take the lead back, but it was too late. Aaron was already crossing the finish line, and Jeff was right behind him.
Well, damn.
At least I wouldn’t be coming in last. Patrick was still trying to get through the alphabet, so I walked the rest of the way.
“You okay, man?” Jeff asked, breathing hard from exertion. “You biffed it pretty hard back there.”
Several of the guys were looking at me, because I hadn’t been able to hide my limp on the way back.
“Yeah. I’ve just got a bad knee. Old sports injury,” I fibbed.
It was just a little white lie. Climbing trees wasn’t necessarily a sport, but calling my gimpy leg a sports injury sounded better than saying I was just a former chubby kid who was too clumsy to do normal childhood activities.
“Congratulations, Aaron.” Max slapped him on the back. “Losers, the next meeting will be Saturday night, and I wasn’t kidding when I said it wouldn’t be pleasant. But for now, the winner gets a special prize.”
Aaron preened, clearly pleased that he was the victor. Word on campus was that his father had been a member of Pi Kappa Epsilon back in his college days here, so he already had an automatic in. He didn’t have to prove his loyalty, but he wanted to do it anyway.
“That guy is such an ass kisser,” Jeff muttered next to me, and I snickered.
“The special prize is—” Max paused. “—a strip show!”
“Fuck yeah!” Aaron fist pumped the air, but began looking confused when all the frat guys around him were cracking up with laughter.
“And not just any strip show,” Max continued. “Aaron, you’ll be giving some special ladies from Gamma Delta a treat. They’re already inside, liquored up, and ready to see your man candy.”
Aaron’s reaction wasn’t what I thought it’d be. Hell, I’d be horrified if I had to do a Magic Mike performance. But the guy was literally jumping for joy over the prospect of taking off his clothes in front of a bunch of drunk girls.
He did a few more fist pumps before imitating a bad version of the running man. “Take me to the women!”
We followed the crowd inside.
The furniture in the living room had been cleared out, and there was a lone chair on the stage by the fireplace. About a dozen girls hovered around the area, then started cheering when they saw Aaron lifting his shirt to show off his abs. “Lap Dance” by N.E.R.D boomed through the surround sound speakers, and someone handed him a cup of beer.
Still trying to catch my breath from the race, I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I witnessed what had to be the worst stripping performance in the history of erotic dancing.
I cringed when Aaron started swinging his shirt above his head like a helicopter while humping the chair. More squealing from the girls. Some giggling too, because this really wasn’t a natural talent Aaron possessed.
I’d never been happier to have my leg give out on me. Holy shit. If I hadn’t fallen, it could’ve been me up there.
“I’ve never been more grateful for losing,” Jeff announced to me over the yelling and music.
I nodded. “I was just thinking the same.”
“That is so not my thing.” Laughing, Jeff cocked his head to the side and pointed at the stage. “I think he found his calling though.”
“I’m so frat!” Aaron yelled, right before slipping in the puddle of beer he’d spilled.
Pants around his ankles, he fell on his ass.
“He needs some practice.” I snickered. “But at least he’s giving it his all.”
After Aaron’s lackluster performance, Max told us we could leave, but reminded the losers—Patrick, Jeff, and myself—that we had to come back Saturday night prepared for some dirty work. Whatever that meant, I wasn’t sure.
As I walked away from the frat house, the old familiar throbbing started up in my leg. My knee was achy and stiff, and I knew I’d injured it when I fell.
I got on the closest bus, but by the time I made it back to my apartment, pain radiated through me with every step. My limp was obvious as I went to the kitchen, and Pierre was right behind me, panting with worry and nudging my good leg with his head.
“Rapporte la eau,” I grunted, fishing around in the cabinet for the anti-inflammatory meds I kept on hand for bad days. My loyal friend came back with a bottle of water as I poured three pills into my palm. “Thanks, buddy. You’re the best.”
I considered taking the muscle relaxers that were for emergencies only but decided it wasn’t a good idea. I’d have to get up for class in the morning, and they made me groggy.
After letting Pierre out in the backyard for a few minutes, I filled up his food bowl, then went to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I barely had the energy to change clothes, but I managed. Grabbing my ice pack from the freezer, I wrapped it tightly around my leg as I fought the exhaustion.
Just as I lay down in bed, I grabbed my phone and sent Kayla a text even though she was asleep.
Me: You’re still my favorite.
Pierre came over to the side of the bed and put his paw on the mattress, his sharp gaze attentive.
“I’ll be okay,” I told him with a pat on the head. “I appreciate your concern, though.”
Satisfied, he left the room.
Turning onto my side, I swung my leg over the therapeutic pillow, but it wasn’t nearly as good as Kayla’s warm body.
I sniffed it. It still smelled like her, and I took comfort in her lingering scent as I let sleep consume me.
The next morning, my leg was worse.
I’d fallen asleep with my ice pack on, but the swelling around my knee didn’t look good. The ache was bone-deep, something I hadn’t dealt with in a while.
Today wasn’t going to be fun.
Even standing was almost unbearable, and I’d had to use that damn shower seat I swore I wouldn’t need.
Hissing from the pain, I rubbed at my knee as I sat down on the couch. How was I supposed to make it to class today? I had a quiz in sociology I couldn’t miss.
A cold wet nose nudged my hand. Pierre sat at attention, looking at me expectantly.
He knew I was hurting, and he just wanted to help.
“Rapporte chaussures,” I requested. Fetch shoes.
I really needed to work on my French because I was pretty sure I butchered the pronunciation every time, but Pierre understood me. Within seconds he was bringing my sneakers over.
“Rapporte le cartable.” I watched him trot to the front door before dragging my backpack over to me.
“You’re so badass, you know that?” His answer was a tail wag. “You want to come to class with me today?”
His ears perked up and he let out an excited huff.
He needed this as much as I did. I’d been trying so hard to pretend he was just a regular pet, but helping was what he lived for. He loved this job.
As he looked up at me with soulful brown eyes, I felt bad for being ashamed of him. Really, it wasn’t him I was trying to hide—it was me.
On days like today, though, I couldn’t imagine carrying my heavy books on top of the pain I was already experiencing. Besides, if I wanted to be in any kind of condition to participate in the loyalty test Pi Kap had tomorrow night, I needed to be able to function.
Eyeing Pierre’s vest that had been sitting unused next to the coat closet, I made a decision. “All right, Pierre. Rapporte la veste.”