Focus, Kip.Founders – think founders. George Ruthenlaw, Harry Winters, James Johnson, Skyler Thorne.

Shit!

“Pledge Jackson,” Adam says, walking to stand in front of me. My teeth are chattering under my lips as his eyes bore into mine. “Name the three founders of Alpha Sigma who helped the sisters of Pi Gamma Zeta sneak out of their dorms when they were founding their sorority.”

I take a deep breath and try to let my brain do the work on its own. I’ve studied my founders more than my actual schoolwork. I know this.

“Harry Winters, Edward Sanders, and…” I pause, waiting for the last name to come to me. I know this, I know this.

“Ten. Nine.” Adam starts to count down and my pledge brothers groan. Some shout out encouragements, others choose to offer profanities. I block everything out and zero in on the book of our founders, on our history. Think, Kip, think.

“Clarence Bell?” I say, though it comes out more like a question. Everyone shivers and is quiet for a minute, waiting on bated breath. Finally, Adam simply nods and moves on to the next pledge. I let out a relieved breath, but it’s not over yet.

As Adam asks the final question to Christopher, the pledge next to me, I catch his eyes shifting over to me still. He seems almost pissed off that I answered correctly, and I can’t help but feel it has something to do with Skyler. I heard they had a fling last year, but apparently it’s a fling Adam hasn’t let go of yet. Ever since I bid on her at the auction, he’s been giving me the cold shoulder – a complete one-eighty from the bromance flirting that was happening the night of rush. This is the last thing I need. As if things aren’t complicated as it is, now my president is aiming his arrows at the target he glued on my back.

So much for flying under the radar.

Thankfully, Christopher answers the last question correctly and we all simultaneously jump out of the water. A few of the brothers watching throw us towels and tell us to wrap up our feet while they grab us some hot water to sip. I sit down on the couch next to Kade and cross my arms over my chest, still shivering.

“Holy balls, I’m freezing,” Kade says, but a huge smile is plastered to his face. He loves this pledging stuff, maybe a little too much, actually.

“I’m pretty sure I need a wheelchair, no way my legs work now.”

He laughs a little. “You better make them work – don’t you pick Miss Poker Star up at seven tonight?”

I smile a shit-eating grin that I can’t help but have when someone mentions Skyler, no matter how badly I wish I could. “She can push me around in the wheelchair. That’s romantic, right?”

“Totally. Candles, roses, and wheelchairs – the perfect recipe to get laid.”

“I should patent that.”

Kade and I laugh just as Adam walks up. The severity of his facial expression makes us both cut our laughs short and cough a little. He hands us two cups of hot water and Kade immediately sips his, which I know burns the shit out of his tongue but he doesn’t say anything.

“Kip, can I talk to you for a second?” Adam asks and before I even have the chance to answer, Kade jumps up and moves to join a few other pledges by the pool table. Adam takes his place and looks over at me, studying.

“Are you taking Skyler out tonight?”

I sip the hot liquid from my cup and nod, avoiding words for as long as I can. I’m not ever the kind of guy to back down from another man, but he’s my president and I respect him. I don’t want to piss him off and I damn sure don’t want to get kicked out of Alpha Sig before I even officially get in.

Adam sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, staring straight ahead. “Listen, I don’t have claims on her or anything, but I still care about her. And I swear to God if you fuck her over I will personally fuck you up.”

My temper flares automatically and I grip the cup a little tighter. Who the hell does he think he is? I would never hurt Skyler – hell, I’m the one that was there last week to protect her from getting hurt.

But then I remember that I will hurt her, whether I want to or not. It will happen. It’s inevitable. But by then the semester will be over, and I can transfer to Alpha Sigma at UCLA. That was my plan – get in, have a little fun, get out – no matter what happens, I won’t be staying here and I can’t escape what I have to do. I didn’t expect to feel for the one girl I came here to take down, but I guess we can’t always get what we want.

Or whatever that fucking saying is.

“You won’t have to do that,” I assure him, not exactly sure what else to say. He looks at me once more and nods curtly before standing, his point made. As he walks to join a few brothers in the kitchen, I realize the brotherly bonding that was happening between us at rush is completely off the table at this point. He’s watching me, Erin is watching me, Dad is watching me and I’m watching Skyler.

Something is bound to break under the weight of these glares.

My phone buzzes with a text from Skyler.

- Any way I can get you to reschedule tonight? I’m dead tired and really just want to stay in my sweat pants. –

- So stay in your sweat pants. You’re not getting out of this date. –

- :( You hate me. –

- Quite the opposite, actually. See you at seven. And I’m serious about the sweats. -

I shove my phone back in my pocket and rub my leg with my hands, trying to get warm. I’ve been thinking about Skyler all week, about our date and where I should take her, but I haven’t received actual words from her until now. She skipped class altogether yesterday, which left me confused and double fisting two Starbucks drinks. I took a picture of her cup where the drink was written and texted it to her with a simple question mark as the caption. She responded with a meme of Grumpy Cat saying “no” and that was the most I got. The rest of my texts went unanswered, she avoided Greek Library and the cafeteria from what I could tell, and when I asked her Little if she was okay, I just got a smile and a shrug as she moved past me down the hall.

I had a feeling she was going to try to bail on tonight, but I also knew I wouldn’t let her. It’s obvious Erin is telling her to stay away from me, but that’s not part of my plan. Erin is a speed bump and I’m driving a big ass truck with no regard for her attempted warning to slow down or stop.

“You coming, bro? We’re gonna grab some drinks at Ralph’s,” Kade says, motioning to the door with Christopher and a few other pledges.

“Probably not a smart idea to get hammered before my date,” I say, standing. “Have one or five for me.”

He shakes his head. “You got it, man. Don’t get too caught up in this girl – pledging is about spending time with your brothers, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come by and spoon you later, boo. Promise.”

The guys laugh and Kade punches my arm. I wait a few minutes after they leave before pulling myself from the couch, my feet and legs still red and sore from the ice water. Checking my phone, I realize I only have a few hours before I see Skyler. I consider writing a scene of how I want the night to go, of how our relationship would unfold if I didn’t have an ulterior motive. I’d pick her up in a nice rental car, we’d go to dinner and then walk on the beach before sharing a romantic kiss. We would date off and on throughout the seasons, battling the drama of Greek life and maybe parents or friends trying to keep us apart. We’d be the fan favorites, they would all root for us and the episodes where we made up would send rankings sky high. It would make for a good show – an addicting show – maybe quality enough for my final project in Writing for Television.

But the reality is we’re getting cancelled after the first season, no matter how I write it.