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Just like I knew that getting picked for the draft was Forest’s biggest priority now.
Rolling my shoulders back, I patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later?”
He nodded, and after telling me he’d send me the information for the trip this weekend, we said our goodbyes, and I headed back to the fraternity house.
A chorus of groans filled the room.
“What do you mean, we have to go to all their events,too?” That was Peter.
Richard, our fraternity advisor, was leaning against a table in the big communal space, scratching his dark beard as all the guys freaked out. The whole fraternity was here for our weekly meeting, and considering they’d just found out about the arrangement, I understood their concern.
My Vice President, Stellan, sat at my side, and the other executive board members who helped me keep this place from running into the ground were all also gathered around, watching intently. I knew this mattered more for us than the rest of them—we were the ones who would be impacted by it the most.
The rest of the brothers would just have to show up and put on their best faces.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to put on your plates.” He shot a glare at Peter for interrupting. “But if you have a class conflict, you’re excused. And the Pi Rho girls have the same expectations being put on them.” Richard had graduated from Castleton four yearsago, so he was barely in his late twenties, and I knew he definitely still remembered everything from when he’d been a student—and a member—here.
I nodded from his side, glad I’d already set up a meeting with their president. Ella. “I’m meeting with their Chapter President tomorrow, and we’re going to work on some joint social events as well. So don’t complaintoomuch. At least the girls will put up with us,” I joked. “Is everything ready for the event on Sunday?” I’d invite them, since that was Richard’s plan. Go to each other’s events, add a few bonding events—things that would have the university see us in a good light.
No parties. He’d been very clear that we should tone it down. No wild parties that would end in anyone’s suspensions, no noise ordinances violated.
Squeaky clean,he’d made me promise. No gettinginvolvedwith them. To that, I’d winced. Richard knew how college boys were—and so did I. This was my fraternity, after all. Our parties normally involved multiple people disappearing into other rooms, and not always ones withbedsin them.
Turning my attention back to our philanthropy chair, Derek, I listened as he went over all the last-minute details and coordination.
“Sounds great. Does anyone else have anything to add?” Richard asked, and the guys gave a chorus of nos. “Try not to get into too much trouble this weekend,” he offered.
“Easier said than done,” I muttered as the rest of the guys filed out of the room.
Richard turned, pinning me with a look. “You got this, Cam?”
“Yep.” Absolutely. Probably. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Go easy on her. She’s probably overwhelmed. She didn’t have time to prepare for the role like you did.”
Sometimes it felt like I’d prepared my whole life for this. To go to Castleton, be in Delta Sigma, become president, go to lawschool, join the family firm… my whole life had been prepared for me.
I avoided making a face. “Right. Do you know anything about her?”
He shook his head. “Just that Ilene said she’s quiet, but that she thinks she’ll do a good job. I think she was the Vice President.”
“Huh.” That made sense, considering it was November and it would be hard to integrate someone new into the executive board this far into the year. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” His lips curved into a warm smile, and he patted my shoulder. “Proud of you, Cam. You’re really doing a great job this year.”
“Thanks.” It was crazy, but sometimes he felt more like an older brother to me than just an advisor.
I headed to my room to study, my meeting with Ella tomorrow at the forefront of my mind.
CHAPTER 9
Ella
Ten a.m. the next day came by quickly, and before I knew it, I was sitting in the coffee shop on campus, my notebook and favorite pen in front of me, about to have what was, technically, my first meeting as president of Pi Rho.
I’d worn my favorite cozy white sweater with a pair of dark jeans today—the temperatures in November dropped quickly, furthered by the costal winds that rolled in. My hair was twisted up into a powder blue claw clip to keep it off my neck, leaving just my bangs out in the front.
“Ella, your order is ready!” The barista called at the counter, and I slid out of my seat, grabbing my bagel and white chocolate mocha from the counter.
