“They’re Kappa legacies,” Romeo continues. “Abby was chewing my ear out last week about how Jemma is nothing like Jordan, and how she’s pissed she has to let Jemma become one of her sisters.”
Confused, I narrow my eyes at him, the sun now hitting me right in the face. I raise my hand to my forehead to create some shade. “Why wouldn’t she want her? Jemma looks the part of a Kappa girl.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t like following their rules, apparently, and Jordan has to keep covering for her.”
“There’s a reason I’m not a Greek,” I tell him.
Romeo laughs. “You wouldn’t last two days as a pledge.”
I snort at his comment. “Fuck you. I would make pledging Delta Sig my bitch.”
“Yeah, right.” He runs a hand through his black hair and pushes it out of his eyes, staring over at the Kappa girls. “You say that now, but spend a few days in a dark, cold basement, eating random foods with your hands tied behind your back, or drinking mystery shit out of a trough, and let’s see how long you last.”
I shake my head, a disgusted look on my face. “You frat bros are nasty as fuck. For real. Why would you even want to do that to join?”
He seems unaffected and shrugs. “It’s worth it. Being the president opens a lot of doors for me. And I get my own room. Hell, I get my own floor all to myself. That alone is priceless.”
I think of all the crazy after parties we had in Romeo’s studio apartment on the top floor of the old Victorian where he lives with his fraternity brothers and smile. “Good times,” I admit.
He removes one of the taffies they’re selling over at the Delta Sig tent to raise money for testicular cancer from his pocket. Their slogan for the event is ‘We go balls deep,’ which is pretty awesome and caught a lot of attention from students passing by. The dean wasn’t entirely thrilled, but he approved considering how much dough they were raking in.
As Romeo shoves the dick-shaped taffy into his mouth, I turn my head away from him. “I can’t even look at you right now. I’m embarrassed to be next to you.”
He sucks on the taffy, not the least bit fazed. “It’s candy. I’m not sucking an actual dick.”
I cover the side of my face to tune him out, and he laughs, reaching into his pocket to hand me one. “Stop being a pussy. Eat a dick.”
Laughing, I push the taffy away. “Nah, I’m good, bro. You keep it. I’m sure you can use all the practice you can get.”
He makes a gagging sound and then removes the candy from his mouth, winking at me. “You would know.”
Of all my friends on campus, Romeo is the most entertaining. He knows how to throw one hell of a party, and he doesn’t give me shit when I veer off course. Not like my teammates. I have no doubt I will get a rash of shit from Preston when I get home. He’s been up my ass for days. Even Trent has been giving me a hard time.
“I’m gonna head over.” Romeo tilts his head in the direction of the kissing booth. He holds up a twenty-dollar bill. “You sure you don’t want in? It’s for charity.”
I think over his offer for a second and then shake my head. “Nah, I gotta find Trent and the guys.”
“All right, Tuck.” He slaps me on the back. “Catch ya later. Make sure you come over on Friday for the Halloween party. It’s gonna be epic.” Romeo raises his hands in the air and makes a goofy face, and then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd.
I’m halfway across the Quad by the time I hear Drake’s deep voice. “Look what we have here. Where have you been hiding out?”
I snap my head in his direction, somewhat off balance. Damn, I drank way more than I’d realized when I was hanging out at the Delta Sig booth.
I hold up the water bottle in my right hand and mumble, “I’ve been around. Where did you guys go? I thought you were next to me one minute, and the next you were gone.”
“We’re meeting Preston and Jamie at Gio’s. You need to sober up. Come with us.”
My stomach rumbles at the mention of Gio’s, the pizzeria on campus where everyone eats. They’re around the corner from Greek Row, where I’ve spent a lot of time lately, and when I’m shitfaced and stumbling out of the Delta Sig house, I can always count on Gio’s to be open for a late night slice.
“I don’t need to do shit,” I shoot back. “But I’ll go with you. I can eat.”
Drake rubs his stomach. “I can always eat.”
He’s a mountain of a man, just like his dad, with a few inches on Trent and me and even more muscle.