We had a few hours to kill before the guys headed out for their rush initiation or whatever stupid shit they had planned for their rushees. To pass the time, Ainsley pulled out her laptop and got to work scouring the Internet for any information on Sterling Weston.
KU had rules against fraternity and sororities using violence, sexual manners, and bully tactics during rush week, but something told me Chi Sigma was above college rules, or at the very least, they were overlooked by the university heads.
“So far, our boy is clean,” Ainsley muttered, her eyes pouring over website after website. “Not squeaky clean. He had a few run-ins with the police, but nothing Daddy’s wallet or Mommy’s purse didn’t fix.”
“Typical,” Josie said flatly.
His parents came from old money. Weston Real Estate branched not just across the States but overseas as well. Forrest Weston, Sterling’s father, married Colleen Bass at the Plaza Hotel in Paris. We browsed through their marriage announcement, the photos online of the event, as well as the birth announcements of their children.
Sterling had a sister. Sadie. Funny how he had never mentioned her. She was a few years younger than he was.
I started to drift off, my eyes growing tired from reading lines of text on the laptop screen. The Twisted Teas weren’t helping either.
I rolled over on the bed, the light from Ainsley’s computer shining on the ceiling. She and Josie sat on the floor, their backs propped against my bed. “Time to switch to coffee,” I mumbled, doing my best to suppress a yawn. “We need a pick-me-up to keep us on our toes tonight.”
“I’ll brew a pot,” Josie offered, jumping to her feet. “I need to stretch my legs.”
Kenna checked the time on her phone. “We should probably start to get ready soon. It’ll give us time to canvass the house.”
Ainsley closed her laptop, the room going dark, and rolled her neck. We hadn't found anything vital in our search, just facts about his family. Of course it would have been too easy to find the answers with a Google search.
“This is going to be fucking fun,” Kenna said as she bounded off the bed with too much enthusiasm.
I rubbed a hand to my temple, trying to massage the tiredness out of me. “Christ, Kenna. Only you would think breaking into someone’s house is fun.”
Kenna ducked under the bed, searching for something. “I’ll grab a few bottles of spray paint.”
Bolting upright in bed, I replied, “What the fuck for? We’re not tagging his house.” Everyone in the dorm went still, all eyes on Kenna, waiting expectantly.
She shimmied out a bag. “Uh yes, we are. We need to leave our signature behind. And I never go anywhere without at least one can.”
Who even was my cousin? “That sounds like a bad idea.”
“And everyone knows that bad ideas are actually the best ideas,” she retorted, undeterred.
Ainsley blinked at her from the floor. “What world do you live in?”
My cousin tossed her bag on the bed and unzipped it to check the contents. “The same fucked-up world as the rest of you. I just play in it more than you do.”
“That’s because the rest of us don’t want to end up in jail,” I said, frowning.
“Or dying,” Ainsley added.
Kenna made a shushing sound like none of that was a big deal. “Josie and I are pros.”
Josie snorted, popping back into the room after starting the little coffeepot she had on her desk. “One sting does not make us experts. The real experts are—”
“Don’t say it,” I interrupted. “Don’t you dare say it. We are not talking aboutthem.”
Josie’s lips twitched.
I gave Kenna a pointed look. “Sterling told me you tagged his house. How many times, Kenna?”
“Just the once,” she admitted. “But I planned on going back again. Tonight is the perfect opportunity to leave the prick a little follow-up message.”
“If Grayson finds out you’re tagging again—” Josie started before Kenna cut her off.
“He won’t,” she snapped. “Because no one here is going to tell him. They have their secrets, and we have ours.”