“The least I could do for D,” Pecan mumbles.
“What happened at the Rhos’ frat house?” Shay asks.
“You didn’t go with them?” Callan half-shouts.
“I was at the game!”
“We were together, Callan,” Wynter assures him.
“He’s a rapist!”
“Hey, calm down, we were fine.” I settle him with a firm look. “We stayed together, only drank from the bottles of water we brought along, and we stuck to the outskirts. There’s no doing that with Shay. All the girls flutter around him.”
“Ugh.” Shay gags.
“Can’t believe you’re a Rho, man,” Pecan complains.
“Me either.”
“Well?! Was the party worth putting yourself in danger?!” Callan insists.
“Jeez, Dad.” Wynter waggles her mug at him. “We learned that the Rhos were against his prank.”
Denver taps her bottom lip. “Seriously?”
“Oh, yes. From the outside looking in, they seem involved. But they weren’t.”
“Still not worth you being in danger.”
“He’s not as popular as he’d like to think. Alec and him got into a fight. Half the Pies there veered around him like he was covered in boils.” I sip my soda. “If we make his life a living hell, I think they’d turn on him.”
“I think so too.” Wynter glances at me and, silently, we agree not to tell Callan that we snuck into Dyers's room…
It was a regular jock’s bedroom.
Aside from some of the weird shit he had in a drawer that I’m praying is just his idea of a kink and nothing Veronian-related.
“Interesting,” Denny muses. “Maybe we can play into that, Callan?”
“Definitely.” His eyes narrow. “Now, you mentioned aCoooooig? When can you hook us up on a call?”
Shay smirks. “How about now?”
FIFTY-SEVEN
ACOOOOOIG, AT YOUR SERVICE
“Hi, Uncle Conor!”I chirp, waving over Shay’s shoulder as he and Callan set up the video call on the big screen in Callan’s home.
“What’s going on?” Pushing those new glasses of his up his nose, Conor peers into the camera so he can better scan us. “Are you sick? Hurt? Need money?”
“Can’t we want to call our favorite uncle?”
Conor ignores us to grace the cat that just leaped onto his lap with his attention. “We’re your favorites when you want something.”
“Well, that stings!”
Conor’s lips twitch, but I know he’s sore about the lack of an invitation to the wedding. “Is it true?”
