Page 6 of Stepbrother Frat


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With my eyes fixed on a daisy, I plucked each of its petals off as my stepbrother struggled with his words. Understanding, yet not wanting to understand. He loves me, he loves me not, a small voice counted with each pluck of the petal; that small voice the only thing calming me down.

“So, what do you want to do?” I finally asked, narrowing my eyes at my stepbrother.

It was so much easier being mad at him than torn by him. The part of me that had to grow up with him was convinced that he just changed his mind. That he thought it’d be fun to see if he could screw around with his stepsister, since he can have just about anyone else in the world. I’m the last one for him to cross off his bucket list. Congratulations, I wanted to shout at him. You’ve broken me, too, just like all of the other girls you’ve dated.

But he never even dated me. We were never together, he just used me and cast me aside. Just like that.

Blinking rapidly, I hadn’t even noticed that I’d started crying silently. Derek was talking to me, answering my question, but I wasn’t processing anything he was saying. I shook his hands off me and stood up, not wanting to spend another second with him. Not wanting to spend another second here. Within one quick week, I’d gone from thinking I’d finally found a place I belonged to absolutely hating

it here.

“Karla!” I could hear him call after me as I blindly stumbled back towards the sorority house.

I could hear girls giggling not too far from me, and I recognized one of the voices as Darcy’s.

“Are you sure he’s here?” A girly voice asked, I recognized it as one of our sisters.

Darcy replied, “Yeah, Max said he’d be hanging out by the lake for some reason. You don’t think I’m dressed too slutty for a casual stroll down the lake, do you?”

Both girls burst out laughing as they continued their trek to find my stepbrother. Find them, I thought bitterly. Sluts seem to be more his type anyway.

6

I swished my coffee around in my mug. My homework was spread all around the table I was seated at, a table large enough to fit six people. I was beyond caring, if someone wanted to sit next to me badly enough, they could ask. Nicely.

My eyes intermittently scanned the crowd of the small campus coffee shop, hopeful that I’d see a specific familiar face, but disappointed each time.

Checking my phone for notifications, it was no surprise that no one had messaged me. All of my friends were my sisters, and none of my sisters were talking to me. They had, of course, all taken Darcy’s side I assumed. Mostly because I hadn’t bothered pettily spouting rumors and hadn’t cared enough to clear the ones she had spread. I should’ve known better than thinking a sorority would be good for me.

My phone vibrated, and I snatched it back up off the table. Disappointment filled me when I read that it was just a mass message: Only three people left in the Spring 2015 game of Killer! Trust no one.

Who the fuck cares? I thought, rolling my eyes. I realized I hadn’t even bothered to check to see who my target was, and I was one of the finalists. Funny how that worked out. My fingers worked to go back several weeks in my inbox until I found that first email from Carli, and it read: Your target is DARCY SNAKE.

Typical, I thought bitterly.

Fuck it all, I’d finally had enough. Snatching my phone back up, I quickly dialed my mom. She picked up after three rings.

“Hel-lo?” she answered, her voice choking.

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, honey,” she let out a silent sob.

Concern filled me. “I’m coming home,” I said firmly, determined as I gathered my papers and shoved them in my backpack, not caring if they all became crumpled in there.

“No!” My mom practically yelled it, and it made me stop half-paper-shove. “I mean… There’s just- It’s just-”

“Mom, just tell me what’s going on. Please!”

“We were waiting for the right time to tell you. It’s no surprise that Roderick and I fight all the time. (Roderick’s my stepdad.) We decided about a year ago that we weren’t right for each other but wanted to make sure that you were sent off to college before we did… We didn’t want anything interfering with your education--or Derek’s.”

“Wait. You guys broke up?” I almost spilled my mug of cold coffee.

“I’m staying with your Grandma Gemma right now, until we get all of the paperwork sorted.”

But Grandma Gemma’s all the way in Maine… I decided to not scold her for abandoning me in Arizona while she was on the other side of the country. Instead I softly asked, “Can I do anything to help?”

Apparently I couldn’t. We said our goodbyes and hung up with the promise that I’d fly over to Maine for the summer break at the very least.

Stunned, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and kept my head down as I left the coffee shop. I didn’t know who witnessed my phone call, and I didn’t want to know.

A strong arm gripped my bicep, and I almost elbowed the intruder in response after what happened in class on Tuesday. My lips parted when my eyes locked with the sapphire-eyed intruder’s: Derek’s.

“We need to talk,” he said, dragging me along with him.

“About what?” I asked, not caring who was around us or was listening.

“Not here.” My stepbrother’s voice was hushed as he led me to the alley behind the coffee shop.

“What did yo-”

“Shh,” he said, putting a finger to my lips as he glanced around. My tongue instinctively flickered out, tasting his index finger. Derek’s eyes shot back down to me, his eyebrow hiked in tentative amusement.

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