The hardest part about going to school on the East Coast was living so far away from my family. My brothers attended UCLA, so they could drive down to San Diego often, though I knew their visits weren’t regular enough for my parents’ liking. After graduation, I planned to move back to California and find a job as a music journalist. That way, I could live my dream and be close to my loved ones.
J Mom: I was also texting to make sure you’re still coming home for spring break. I’m planning Cammie’s Sweet Sixteen, and I know she’ll want her brothers there.
Absently, I rubbed my wrist where the matching bracelet my siblings and I wore usually sat. Cammie had received a bunch of supplies one year for Christmas and made us matching ones that contained each of our favorite colors: pink for her, purple for Jase, red for Dylan, and teal for me. When I woke up on Friday, I noticed it was missing. I’d searched my room, but hadn’t been able to find it, and wondered if I’d somehow lost it in San Diego.
The microwave beeped. I assured Jamie I wouldn’t miss my sister’s party and promised to chat with her soon, before putting my phone down and grabbing my food.
Judging by how quiet the house was, everyone appeared to still be in class or in their rooms, which meant I could work downstairs without distraction.
An hour later, my eyes started to glaze over, and I closed my laptop. While putting my things into my bag, I heard the door open.
“Hey,” Fallon greeted as he rounded the corner with Ford a step behind him. “You done with classes for the day?”
“Yeah, I only have two on Mondays. What about you guys?” I glanced at Ford, who avoided my gaze by staring out the window instead.
“I’m done for the day too,” Fallon replied. “Ford and I were going to meet up with some of my teammates from the rowing team at Marco’s for some pizza. You want to go with us?”
“I … ah …” I peeked at Ford who was shooting daggers at Fallon. Was he pissed at my friend for asking me to join? Well, fuck him. Even though I’d just eaten an hour before, I wasn’t going to pass up pizza. “Sure.”
“Actually, I just remembered I’ve got some reading to do. I’ll catch up with you later,” Ford said, but aimed his words at Fallon before leaving.
“Well, that was uncomfortable,” Fallon muttered.
I shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. It’s going to become awkward for everybody if he can’t even hang out with the group just because I’m there.”
“Yeah,” Fallon agreed. “On the way here, he asked if he could change his committee assignment for the charity softball game.”
Every spring, Sigma Epsilon hosted a charity event. This year, we were organizing a celebrity softball game to benefit various LGBTQ+ youth programs, which had been a surprise—albeit a great one—when it had been suggested, since most of my fraternity brothers were straight. Ford and I, along with a couple other guys, were part of the committee responsible for finding the celebrities to participate in our event.
“It’s fine. Preston and I have started working on stuff already. I’m sure we have it covered.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything. I can always assign someone else,” our frat president said.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. It’s part of the job.” He smiled. “Now, do you want to chat about our photojournalism assignment?”
“Sure.”
Fallon and I spent the next half hour finding images online and writing short paragraphs about what drew us to them. I found one of the Eiffel Tower at night and had a hard time coming up with something other than it reminded me of my professor’s house—the house where I had experienced the best sex ever.
* * *
It was Friday,and a crowd had descended on the Sigma House for our traditional spring semester kickoff party. While several parties could be found every Friday night on Greek Row, the houses took turns hosting the bigger ones.
“You want a beer?” Preston asked when I stepped into the kitchen, where we had set up a couple of kegs.
“Is that a serious question?” I grinned.
He handed over a red cup filled to the brim. “What about you?” Preston shook an empty cup, and I turned to see Ford a few feet behind me.
He stood between a couple of girls from our sister sorority, his arms draped across both of their shoulders. Between using Emily and Lia for balance and his glassy eyes, it was clear he was already several drinks in.
“Fill ‘er up,” Ford shouted back.
Preston passed the cup to me. “Hand that to him.”
“Here you go.” I did as asked.
