I grimace. I’ll be the first to admit that frat houses are frequently hotbeds of questionable shit, but consent is consent. And Devon doesn’t have it.
Also, the Oats, as the Theta Iotas are known on campus, aren’t the stereotypical frat guys their house might lead one to expect. Most of Beecher’s extremely competitive esports team are Oats. And the president, Aadesh, and I are friends, having survived an excruciatingly dull poli-sci class together freshman year.
I pull Carter’s thick navy peacoat tighter around me—it smells of him—and step up the brick walkway to the double doors, ice crunching under my shoes.
When I press the doorbell, it echoes inside the house. I tense up, waiting, anticipating the thump of oversized feet.
But there’s only silence, the wind whistling sharply past my ears.
Strange.
I push the doorbell again, but with the same result.
The lack of response only draws my attention to how quiet it is in general outside. Even in this weather, there should be people scuffling their way to the union for food, cars going too fast for conditions, some obsessed music major hauling an instrument to a practice room.Something.
Granted, most everyone is probably holed up waiting for the all-clear from the admin; we grew up with active shooter drills since kindergarten, we don’t take this shit lightly.
Still… it’s an eerie feeling. A quick glance around shows that I’m literally the only person in sight.
I frown. Except for a couple across the street. He might be astudent, dressed in a gray hoodie with the hood up, baggy jeans with damp patches around the ankles, and black and white checkered Vans. But the woman is in a dark blue raincoat, the expensive trench coat kind, not the kindergarten rain slicker variety. She looks… is that the same woman who was looking for her car at the police station earlier today?
The two of them seem to be arguing about something; he’s making big dramatic gestures toward the street and she’s shaking her head. But as soon as the woman clocks me watching them, she immediately pulls her phone from her pocket, seemingly consulting the screen. The guy glances over at me, then back to the woman, still gesturing.
Okay, so maybe a parent, fighting with her kid about coming home.
The uneasy feeling in my stomach doesn’t let up, though.
I reach out and try the knob of the right-side door. It turns easily in my grasp and the door opens into the dim interior.
“Hello?” I call into the entryway. All the lights are off down here. But I was here enough times for study group freshman year that I know the layout roughly.
To my left is the chapter room, kind of an oversized living room, where there’s usually a couple of brothers hanging out. It is dark and empty today, the blinds pulled tight. Straight ahead is a huge stairway, double-wide steps that split to the right and left at the second level. To the right is a hallway that leads to a kitchen and dining room. No signs of life back there either.
I don’t like this.
The wind whips in, scattering sleet and snowflakes on the polished hardwood floor.
I step in and close the door behind me, fumbling for andflicking on a light switch. I expect someone to come investigate, but nope.
Pizza boxes are stacked tidily in the recycle bin near the front door, along with beer bottles lined up with such precision that it looks like rulers might have been involved. Seriously, what is going on here?
The Oats, they’re good guys and they’re not complete slobs, but this is—
From upstairs, a low moan drifts toward me.
Well, that’s one way to know I’m in the right place, I guess.
I cross the entryway and start up the stairs. Magic prickles across my skin, raising goosebumps and making my skin ripple with it.
I steel myself for confrontation and alotof nakedness. Like, I’m fine with it, when I’m part of it and everyone knows the deal, but walking in on someone else’s sexy time when they don’t have the ability to stop or even feel discomfort in the moment… it’s just wrong. And icky.
“No!” someone shouts from upstairs.
I freeze, halfway up. That’s Aadesh, I think. He sounds upset.
My pulse ratchets up, and I can taste the sourness of adrenaline bursting on my tongue.
Do I have this wrong? Is this not Devon? Fuck, what if this is the War spawn I’ve been looking for instead?
