“Who’s we?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “I can ask, right?”

“Of course you can ask, Jordy.” He gave me a smile. He made a steeple with his fingers on the desktop. “This isn’t an interrogation. You don’t need a lawyer or anything.”

“Good to know,” I replied, forcing a smile on my face. “So, who’s getting concerned about me, Chris? And what about?”

“The Executive Council.” He put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward a bit. He gave me a reassuring smile. “And don’t feel singled out. You’re not the only brother I’m having a chat with this week.” He shrugged. “We’ve noticed that you’ve missed a couple of Monday night meetings, and you weren’t around at all last week for Little Sister Rush.” He waved a hand. “I know, you’re gay and you don’t care about women, I get that, but Little Sister Rush is important, even if it’s not mandatory.”

“But if it isn’t mandatory—” I shrugged. “It shouldn’t be held against me if I didn’t come.” I thought about making an excuse—a term paper or something—but kept silent. I’d gone to Fusions on Wednesday night with Chad and the guys, and Chris probably knew. It wasn’t easy keeping secrets at Beta Kappa.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I know, I know, but Monday night meetings are mandatory. And when you miss a few of them, and then skip Little Sister Rush . . .” He spread his hands helplessly. “If you miss another meeting you’re going to be placed on social probation. You know what that means, right? You can’t come to parties, you can’t come to the formal. And you don’t want that, do you?”

I bit my lip and shook my head no.

“Which leads to another problem,” Chris went on. “As you know, Big Brother Night is this Saturday. Attendance is mandatory. And you’ve been chosen.”

I gulped. “Seriously?” I hadn’t been expecting that. Since Rush Week, I’d had little interaction with any of the pledges I’d helped recruit. I hadn’t even given them a second thought. I’d been so wrapped up in my revenge fantasies—and I could hardly explain that to Chris.

“Seriously,” Chris replied. “And I don’t know if you should be allowed the privilege of having a little brother. You’ve really been shirking your responsibilities to the house, Jordy.” He shook his head. “What’s going on with you? You were such a great pledge.”

“I’ve been dealing with some personal shit, Chris.” I looked down at my hands. I just couldn’t look him in the eyes. I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let my own bullshit interfere with my commitments to the brotherhood.”

“I’m probably going to cross a line here.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I’m sorry, I feel like I have to, Jordy. Believe it or not, I am really worried about you.” He wiped his eyes. “As president, I feel like I have a responsibility—not just to the brotherhood as a whole, but to every brother here in the house.” He began drumming his fingers on the desk, and I realized he was actually rather nervous. He barked out a mirthless laugh. “I haven’t gotten to know you well, but I like what I do know. You know we don’t have a problem with your sexuality, right?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Diversity is our strength.”

“Beta Kappa used to be just as homophobic as every other house on the mall,” he went on. “Sure, there were brothers in the house who were gay, but as long as they kept it quiet there wasn’t a problem.” He shrugged. “I consider myself to be straight, but I’ve been with guys before. I just prefer women. So, I guess you could say I’m bi or whatever. It’s only been a couple of years since we made the house more open to people with alternative sexualities, and I still believe that’s a good thing. But there’s still an undercurrent of homophobia here in the house. It’s closeted, if you’ll forgive the expression, but there are brothers here who don’t like gays. But they deal with it, and at least on the surface don’t act on it. Overt homophobia, just like overt racism, is grounds for being expelled from the house.”

“I know.” This had all been part of our pledge training, and I wasn’t sure why he was going over all of this with me again.

“I don’t know if you were out before you pledged, but one of the things we all take pride in—as a whole, and me certainly as an individual—is the fact Beta Kappa is here for all of our brothers whenever things get tough for them. Some brothers have issues with their coming out process.” He sighed. “How has it been for you?”

I blinked at him a few times. I opened my mouth to say, Everything’s been just fine, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. He sat there patiently watching me, waiting for me to say something. A flood of emotions rushed through my mind. But the one thought I kept coming back to was, He’s talking to me because he cares.

I felt like crying.

“It’s been hard,” I replied finally, trying to keep my voice steady. “I had no idea it would be this hard.” Tears started filling my eyes. “I mean, Blair and Jeff have been great . . . but . . .”

Chris sighed. “It’s Chad York, isn’t it?” He got up out of his chair and walked around behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I know you two have gotten close.”

“I don’t know that I would call it close.” I wiped at my eyes. “I care about him, but sometimes . . .”

He started rubbing my shoulders. “Let it all out, Jordy. You can trust me.”

“I just don’t know.” I hated myself for being so close to tears. “I love him and I hate him at the same time.” It felt good to say it aloud. “And I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. I mean, what am I supposed to do?” A tear slipped out of my right eye. “I mean, sometimes he’s so sweet and nice—and then two minutes later he’s just so fucking mean.” I wiped at my eyes. “He’s been so nice—I mean, he helped me figure out how to dress, and . . .” I let my voice trail off. I waved my hand and struggled to get ahold of myself. “And then other times he just makes me feel like I’m worthless.”

“You aren’t worthless, Jordy.” Chris patted me on the shoulders and sat back down again. “You have to know that, believe it. You’re a great guy. You have a kind heart—I mean, how many brothers have you helped with papers? All someone has to do is ask you for help, and you never say no.” He folded his hands. “You’re an asset to the house. You’ve got a great sense of humor—everyone likes you.” He gestured at me. “And you’ve changed so much physically. You don’t even look like the same person who pledged last semester.”

“Chad told me he—” My eyes welled up again. “He told me he could never be interested in someone who didn’t—”

A muscle worked in Chris’s jaw. “So you started working out.” He sighed. “Look, Jordy, I don’t have all the answers. But it seems to me you’d be better off with someone who appreciates you for who you are.”

“I’m in love with him.” It felt good to say it out loud. “Chris, please don’t tell anyone.”

“What we talk about in here is no one’s business,” Chris replied. “Your secret is safe with me. Besides, I kind of suspected.” He sighed. “I’ve been watching you, Jordy—and the way you look at Chad—”

I closed my eyes. “Believe me, Chris, I don’t want to be. I love him, but I don’t like him very much. Does that make sense? Can you love someone without liking them?”

“Apparently you can.” He gently smiled. “That’s got to be hard, Jordy. Chad’s a hard person to get to know. I should know—he’s my little brother. Sometimes I wonder if I failed him somehow, you know? He was different when he was a pledge. So eager to please, so committed. . . . I don’t know if something happened to him between his initiation and the next semester, but he was different when he came back.” He sighed. “Maybe when he was a pledge he was acting, and he didn’t need to act anymore when he was initiated . . . but I thought we were close. I was wrong, I guess. Maybe that’s who he was all along.” He peered at me. “You’ve changed, too, Jordy—and I’m not talking about just physically, either. What’s with you and Roger?”