He sneers, “The president of PMU can’t have you banned from all Greek life parties, but I can.”
I laugh. “Don’t do me any favors.”
“So what are you doing here? You the official bodyguard of the dick tease?”
That was…the wrong thing to say.
In my life, I have punched kickboxing targets. I once put my hand through a wall on a dare because Herc didn’t believe that I could, him being taller and much bigger than me. I wrestled to the floor some people who used to say rude shit to Cass in high school. At least the ones that Herc couldn’t chase down. But I have never head-butted anyone in the face.
It’s a lot messier than you would think. I was expecting to hear a crack when my head made contact with the bridge of his nose, but it was a weird combo of wet and crunchy. Oh god, and the blood. So much blood.
Some woman screams.
“Motherfucker!” He shouts, but it comes out as more of a gurgle, the bow-tied man dabbing his nose with the back of his hand.
I back up and raise my hands, ready to block him if he comes at me. But he doesn’t. I’m curious about this until I’m grabbed from behind by someone with the upper body strength of a lumberjack. “Hey!” I shout.
The monster behind me swivels me away from the guy I just punched in the face, and I hear, “Take care of that one, boys.”
By “take care,” I assume he doesn’t mean serve me tea and cookies.
The meathead is dragging me outside onto the lawn with my arms pinned behind me. This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that on the way out the door, we pass right by Cass.
Her mouth drops open, and her perfect eyebrows rise to full height. “Titus! Oh my god, Buckley, let him go!”
Why am I feeling curious about how she knows the meathead? This is not the most opportune moment to start wondering about her choice of friends.
“I’m sorry I ruined your party, Cass!” I cry out as the guy shoves my ass out the door, and I tumble down the stairs, scraping and bumping until I hit the stone walkway. This wouldn’t be so bad if that were it. I could quickly jump up, pull myself together and mosey down the street back to my dorm as if nothing had happened. Oh, but the asshole’s minions are not finished with me yet.
The guy who shoved me is now descending the steps. Another guy about that same size is following him. I didn’t know someone could major in professional wrestling at this school.
I can only hope for Herc to make an appearance, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Probably still entertaining the ladies.
Damn, I hate college—too many interesting people.
FIVE
Cassandra
“Titus!Oh my god! Buxley! Leave him alone!”
I have no idea what happened between Titus and the two defensive ends of the PMU Huntsmen, but I know an unfair fight when I see one.
Titus is no small man, but this is like watching a family of T-rexes surround a baby herbivore. Whatever he did could not have called for two college football players to bat him around like a toy.
Titus manages to rise to his knees, breathless, shooting me that carefree smile and a wave.
“Hey, Squeaks. I hope I didn’t ruin your party. I’ll just go.”
One of the guys, the one not named Buxley, looks in my direction. “He with you?”
I run to Titus, not caring about the two behemoths closing in to finish off my friend with their fists. “Yes! What is going on?”
Titus waves off my offer of help, but he’s swaying and needs some assistance. Stubborn ass.
Just then, Dale steps outside, adjusting his bow tie. “Just taking the trash out,” the president of Zeta Gamma Nu announces on the steps like he’s fucking Zeus or something.
I don’t like that guy. I made the mistake of being overly friendly with him at the first fundraiser I helped organize for Beta Beta Psi during rush week. How was I to know that acting like my usual outgoing self meant to some people that I was easy, and that was why he had asked me out?