"Do you mind if we don't do anything?" he asked as he undressed. "I'm really drunk, and don't feel so hot."

"No problem," I said, undressing myself. You're not the only one, I thought guiltily. I knew I was going to have to tell him, but it could keep until the morning, when he was sober.

When we were both naked, we got under the covers, and I held his warm body close to mine. Within a few moments, he was gently snoring.

It took me a while, but eventually, I too, fell asleep.

Chapter 8

I felt nauseous and sick to my stomach, emotionally drained and what I really wanted to do was just go hide somewhere and cry.

How could Blair be so cruel?

"Wake up," he'd said, shaking me awake the morning before.

My head hurt, my teeth felt like they'd grown hair, and my stomach was acting like an alien creature. "Morning," I'd said, sitting up in the bed.

He was pacing about the room. "I can't fucking believe you.

"What?" I asked, finally sensing that he was completely furious-at me. I shook my head a little to clear it. My heart sank. He'd found out somehow." What's the matter?"

"You fucked Marc Kearney last night, didn't you?" he snapped.

"Blair, are you serious?" I stared at him. My head ached.

"How could you do that?" he demanded. "I mean, Jesus fucking Christ. I thought you were this sweet kid ... and you just run around this place like a fucking dog in heat. What is with you?"

"Wait just a minute." I climbed out of the bed, and pulled my pants on. "Can you calm down for just a second?" I pulled on my Mai Tai Wun On shirt, and sat back down on the bed. "Now, I'm confused here, Blair. Really. I mean, you went to Denny's without even telling me you were leaving-let alone where. And so I needed a place to hang out because you'd locked me out of your room. Admitted, I shouldn't have done anything with Marc-"

"No you shouldn't have!"

"-But even still, I don't understand why you're so mad about it. What's the big deal?"

He sat down in his desk chair. "If you can't see why this is a big deal, maybe you should just leave." He shook his head. "I don't know you at all."

"What? Blair, you aren't making sense," I replied, my mood sinking more with every passing second. "Please, Blair, let's talk about this."

"Get out of my room." He spun away from me and turned on his computer. "Get out of my sight, and get out of my life."

I put on my socks and shoes. My heart sinking, I walked over to the door. I opened it and stood there for a moment. "Blair-"

He didn't answer.

I closed the door behind me.

I managed to somehow get all the way home, have a slight conversation with my parents about the party, and went to my room. I shut the door behind me and lay down on my bed before finally giving way and letting the tears come.

I really couldn't even blame the cocaine or being drunk for it. I knew when Marc and I started messing around we shouldn't be doing it. It was wrong not only to fuck my pledge master, but it was wrong because I was in love with Blair. So what if Blair didn't love me back-I loved him, and that was all that mattered. And Blair obviously caredotherwise he wouldn't have gotten so upset. So why couldn't he just tell me sometime that he loved me? That he didn't want me being with anyone else? If Blair had ever said one word about anything like that I would have never in a million years let things with Marc get as far as they did. There was, in fact, a lot I didn't know about Blair. He didn't ever talk about his past or guys he'd been with-but I had told him all about Kevin. I'd told him about the guy in the park back in Emporia, and I'd told him about sucking Rory's dick. Blair never said anything about past loves or men, and that was odd. Maybe someone he loved hurt him. Maybe that was why he was so resistant to me saying I loved him, why he couldn't bring himself to say the words to me. We'd never talked, once, about what we meant to each other or what we were doing. We just kind of went from day to day, drifting ... and I'd fucked that all up.

But how in the hell did Blair find out about it in the first place?

No one was around when I left Marc's room, so no one could have seen me slip out of his room.

Marc must have told him.

Oh dear God in heaven.

There was no way I could show my face around the house again.

As I lay there in my bed, I reached for my cell phone and dialed Blair's. After a few rings, it switched over to voicemail. "Blair, this is Jeff. Will you please call me back? We need to talk ... about so many things." My voice broke. "I'm sorry about what happened last night, you may never know how sorry I really am ... will you please call me? We have to talk about this. I can't bear the thought of you hating me ... please." I closed my phone and tapped it to my head. I started crying again. It couldn't be over, it just couldn't.

I turned over onto my side with my phone in my hand.

If Blair doesn't call me back this weekend, on Monday morning I'm going by the house and returning my pledge pin, I decided, and fell asleep.

He didn't call. I sat there in my room waiting for my phone to ring all day Saturday. I cried myself to sleep on Saturday night. Several times I started dialing his number again but wouldn't allow myself to finish the call. No, calling him again wouldn't do any good. More messages wouldn't help, wouldn't convince him to call me. He'd call me if he damned well felt like it.

I slept late on Sunday and woke up feeling a little better. I took a shower and brushed my teeth. Mom and Dad were at church, so I had a bowl of Cheerios and some coffee. I tried to put Blair out of my head, but my mind kept drifting back to him. And at some point, the hurt started turning to anger.

Fuck him. He could have the decency to call me back. Yes, I was wrong for sleeping with Marc, but for all I know he could be fucking half the house. I'm not there 24/7-and if he cared about me at all he would have called by now. Fuck him, and fuck Beta Kappa. If he hasn't called me by the time I go to bed tonight I am dropping off my pledge pinto Marc tomorrow and I am done with the whole thing. Might as well get caught up on my studying. And maybe, just maybe, if he ever does bother to call, it mightjust be too late.

I was pretty behind on my studying. Between spending every available moment I had at the house, I hadn't cracked a book all semester. And as I went through my course outlines, I realized with horror that I had a test coming up over the next two weeks in every class-and a couple of papers to write.

I was working my way through my English Comp reading when my phone rang, making me jump. I grabbed it without looking at the caller ID, hoping it was Blair. "Hello?"

"Dude, what you up to?" It was Chris Moore.

"Nothing, studying. Man, I am so fucking behind."

"Yeah I know what you mean. I have an Econ test Wednesday and I haven't even opened the book. Probably stay up all night Tuesday and study. How you doing?"

"Okay, I guess. Why?"

"Yeah, well people were wondering where you were yesterday for the clean-up day."

"Oh, shit, I completely forgot." The brotherhood had declared a mandatory pledge clean up day for Saturday, to return the house to normal after the big luau party. I was so wrapped up in Blair being mad at me I'd completely forgotten. Ah, just as well, since I'm depledging tomorrow, who cares if the brothers are pissed at me or I look bad, I thought.