Games Frat Boys Play (6 page)

Read Games Frat Boys Play Online

Authors: Todd Gregory

BOOK: Games Frat Boys Play
3.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Then you've got pretty low standards,” Roger replied, still smiling. “He didn't even give you the time of day, did he.”
What?
“I didn't ask,” I replied, confused. “I have a watch.” I held up my arm to show him. “See?”
He gave me a funny look, and got a look at my watch. His eyes widened and he whistled. “Dude, that's a TAG Heuer.” He threw back his head and started laughing. “I'll just bet Chad didn't see that—if he did you sure as hell wouldn't have been able to ditch his ass.”
“What does my watch have to do with anything?” I was puzzled. I looked at it. It was just a watch. I'd gotten it for my last birthday.
“Oh, Jordy.” His smile broadened. He was actually kind of cute when he smiled for real. “Your parents have money, don't they?” He pointed at the watch. “That watch cost enough money to pay for a year's tuition, books, and lodging here at Polk State.” He cocked his head and examined me from head to foot the same way Chad had—but it was different. I didn't feel like I was under a microscope. He shook his head. “I don't get it. Your clothes are nice, nothing too expensive, but they are definitely new. But you're wearing a watch worth about ten grand.”
“I don't really care about clothes,” I replied. “I mean, I guess I do. But I'm used to wearing a uniform. I—” I let my voice trail off. I heard Blair saying,
“Don't offer too much information, and don't talk about yourself too much. If someone asks you a question about yourself, answer it but be brief. You don't want them to think you're self-absorbed.”
Instead, I added, “I have a lot to learn, I guess.” I looked down at my pale blue pullover and the new jeans. I'd thought they were perfectly fine—Blair had picked them out for me.
Maybe Blair picked them out on purpose, so people would—
I dismissed that thought. Blair and Jeff had been nothing but nice to me. They weren't the kind of people to play mean jokes.
Or were they?
“Obviously.” He seemed absolutely delighted. “In fact, I'd pay good money to see Chad's face when he reads your application.” He was practically dancing in place. “He probably treated you like you were something he stepped in, didn't he?”
“He didn't seem particularly interested in me, if that's what you mean,” I replied. “But he's probably meeting so many guys—”
“Yeah, you're right, that's probably it.” Roger smothered another grin. “Look, take some advice, okay? Chad York can't be trusted. We were pledges together, and I know Chad pretty well. Believe me, once he reads your application, he's going to be sweet as sugar to you.” He started laughing again. He stopped when he saw my face. “Sorry.” He wiped at his eyes. “I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at Chad.” His face darkened. “I told everyone making him Rush chairman was a mistake.”
“But why would reading my application make a difference?” I was confused, trying to remember my answers to the questions. “I don't understand.”
“Never mind.” He waved his hand. “I never said a word. Want me to show you around?” His eyes glinted. “Being a Beta Kappa is like having fifty best friends,” he said in a singsong voice as he held the saloon doors open. “Joining Beta Kappa is going to be the smartest decision you'll make in your entire college career.”
“Okay.” I was really confused but decided to let it go.
I'll figure it out later,
I told myself as I followed Roger out of the bathroom.
The tour didn't take very long. Beta Kappa was a nice house, and I liked that it was homey rather than palatial like the other houses on the mall. Roger kept up a steady stream of chatter as he showed me around. The building was in the shape of an L, with the long side being the two-story dormitory where the bedrooms were. The rooms were small, and it was amazing that two guys could share such a small place—all the rooms were about the size of the spare bedroom in my apartment—but there was a welcoming feel to the place that I liked. Roger never gave me a chance to say anything—he'd ask me if I had any questions, but before I could answer he'd start talking about something else. He introduced me to other brothers we encountered—also leading a prospective around—but other than “nice to meet you” I didn't get a chance to talk to any of them. They all seemed really polite and genuinely interested in me. I felt my own confidence starting to come back.
So who cares if you had spinach in your teeth when you met the Rush chairman? You're making a good impression on the other brothers. And Chad probably wasn't being mean—you were just being oversensitive. He was doing you a favor—and what WOULD be the polite way to tell someone “you have food in your teeth”?
I felt a lot better when the tour ended. Roger led me back into the big room, which he said doubled as their dining room and the party room. They'd done a good job setting up Casino Night. In addition to blackjack tables, there were a couple of roulette tables, and a crowd had gathered around a table where a pretty Asian girl was playing craps. “I'll go get you some chips so you can play. Wait for me here.” Roger gave me another smile and wandered off. I stood by myself, taking it all in. Everyone looked like they were having a good time, and Blair and Jeff had been right. I liked Beta Kappa, and I wanted to join. I felt like I belonged, despite the rough start.
I leaned back against the wall, watching the Asian girl as she continued her hot streak, the crowd around the craps table cheering her every toss of the dice, when Chad York suddenly loomed up in front of me. “There you are!” he said, his face wreathed in a huge smile, his eyes open wide.
I inhaled sharply. He was so damned handsome that it almost hurt to look at him. “Here I am.” I smiled back at him.
“I've been looking for you everywhere,” he went on. “I wanted to apologize if I seemed rude when you got here.” He put his right hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “I'ts just that I'm in charge, and I'm under a lot of pressure—the whole success of this semester's Rush is my responsibility.”
My knees felt weak as I stared back into his impossibly blue eyes. “It's okay.” His hand felt hot on my shoulder—like an electrical current was flowing through it into my body and down into my groin. “I would imagine that would be a lot of pressure.” I shifted a little bit. His cologne smelled fresh and clean.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to put my hands on his thick chest. I wanted him to push me up against the wall—
“That's very kind of you, and understanding. Thank you. I'd hate for you to get the wrong impression of Beta Kappa because of me.” He waved a hand around the room. “So what do you think of Beta Kappa? Has anyone taken you on a tour?”
“I like it. I like it a lot,” I replied. “Roger showed me—”
“Oh, I'm so glad. We're really the best house on campus.” He went on in that vein for a while, but I wasn't really listening. I was watching his face, the way his chest muscles rippled under his shirt, how his arms flexed with every movement. He was gorgeous, a Greek god come down from Olympus to mix with mere mortals. I wondered what his stomach looked like. I wondered if he had golden hairs on his chest. I wondered what it would be like to kiss his lips. He finished his spiel. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Um—”
“Will you excuse me for a moment?” He gave me a pleading look, and when I nodded, he said, “I'll be right back with a Coke for you, I promise.” He walked over to another group of guys and separated one of them from the rest. He put his arm around the guy's shoulders and led him away.
I couldn't stop staring at his ass.
His jeans were tight and hugged his round butt like a rubber glove. It was big and hard and perfectly round.
“Earth to Jordy,” a voice said behind me.
Startled, I caught my breath and smiled at Roger. “Sorry.”
“He does have a phenomenal ass, doesn't he?” Roger looked over to where Chad was standing with his back to us, talking to some other guys I didn't recognize. “Unfortunately, it's attached to the rest of him.” He handed me a stack of chips. “I was right, wasn't I? Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, right?”
“That doesn't make sense.” I frowned. “Body heat and saliva would break down butter in anyone's mouth. It wouldn't be possible.”
“It's an expression.” Roger frowned at me. “It means—well, hell, I don't know what it means. You're right, it's dumb.” Roger laughed and clapped me on the back. “Come on, Jordy, let's play some blackjack.”
To be honest, I've never understood the appeal of blackjack. It's so incredibly simple. All one has to do to be successful is simply keep track of the tens and the face cards and bet accordingly. It's really all about the law of averages and calculating odds. Out of fifty-two cards, there are sixteen with a face value of ten, and of course the four aces. You have a one in three chance, basically, of getting a ten from the dealer every time you take a card. All you really have to do is count the cards. I started counting and calculating, accumulating a rather large pile of chips, when Chad came up behind me and said, “Wow, you're doing well.”
“It's easy,” I replied. “All you have to do is—”
“Yes, yes.” His smile never faltered. “Would you mind coming with me for a moment?”
I grabbed my pile of chips and walked with him out of the party room.
“So,” he said as we walked down the hallway. “Your application said you went to St. Bernard of Clairvaux Academy? Where exactly is that?”
“A little town called Inhofen.” When he got a puzzled look, I smiled. “No one really knows where Inhofen is. It's a little village about twenty miles from Gstaad.”
“Shtod?” He looked confused.
“Switzerland,” I replied. “It's in Switzerland. Most people have never heard of Inhofen. I mean, it's no wonder, all that's really there is the school. The skiing isn't very good there, so no one ever goes there. It's not one of the big tourist destinations in the country.”
“Okay,” he said, a strange look on his face. When we reached the staircase to the second floor, he knocked on a door to the right of it. He opened the door. “Go on in.”
I walked in. A muscular guy in his early twenties was sitting behind a desk. In a chair next to him sat another guy about the same age. The guy behind the desk gave me a dazzling smile.
Is everyone in this house drop-dead gorgeous?
I wondered.
“Hi, Jordy,” the guy behind the desk said, rising and offering me his hand. I shook it. “I'm Chris Moore, president of Beta Kappa.” He was about six feet four inches tall, with dark blond hair and a muscular body. His eyes were gray, and his smile was warm.
“I'm Eric Matthews, the pledge marshal.” The other guy offered me his hand. Eric was a little shorter than Chris, with dark hair and brown eyes. I shook his hand. His biceps bulged as we shook hands. “Have a seat, Jordy.”
I sat down in an uncomfortable, hard plastic chair.
“I was looking at your application,” Chad said, closing the door behind him. “Your parents have an income of one hundred twenty-five million per year?”
“I really don't know,” I replied, getting a little nervous. “I just estimated. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was going to be asked, so . . .”
“Estimated?” Chad's voice was low. “You just estimated?”
“Well, I know their net worth is about seven hundred million, give or take,” I went on. “So, I just figured if their money was in a basic savings account at 6% interest per quarter, that's what their annual income would be.” I shrugged. “We never really talk about money much, honestly.”
“How did your parents,” Eric asked, “make their money?”
“Did they inherit it?” This was from Chris.
“Oh, no.” I laughed. “My dad was a software designer and started his own company when he got out of college. He invented EZ Accounting . . .”
“Oh, my God.” Eric gasped. “Is your father Terry Valentine?”
I nodded, looking from face to face. “Yes. Is that a problem?” I swallowed.
Maybe Beta Kappa is no different from St. Bernard after all. They don't want me because of who my father is—but why?
My heart sank. I closed my eyes and wished I were a million miles away.
They exchanged glances.
“Well, we'd like to offer you a bid to pledge Beta Kappa,” Chris said, smiling. “Would you like to accept? You don't have to accept right now—”
“Oh, yes, I accept!” My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest.
They want me!
“I can't think of anything I would rather do than be a Beta Kappa!”
Eric cleared his throat. “Are you sure you don't want to check out any of the other houses first? We don't want you to think we pressured you into joining us without giving the other houses a chance.”

Other books

My Secret to Tell by Natalie D. Richards
Of All Sad Words by Bill Crider
Island of Divine Music by John Addiego
The Life of Lee by Lee Evans
Waggit Forever by Peter Howe
Curse of the Iris by Jason Fry