Living at the Frat House Read online

  Living at the Frat House

  Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2020 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  Contents

  1. Juno

  2. Juno

  3. Malcolm

  4. Juno

  5. Juno

  6. Malcolm

  7. Juno

  8. Malcolm

  9. Juno

  10. Juno

  11. Malcolm

  12. Juno

  13. Malcolm

  14. Juno

  15. Juno

  16. Malcolm

  17. Juno

  18. Juno

  19. Malcolm

  20. Juno

  Epilogue

  Books By Penny Wylder

  1

  Juno

  There’s no way I should have said yes to this dare.

  That’s the only thought in my head as I walk across campus.

  In front of me, Granite House looms large on the corner of Elm and Connecticut. My heart rises into my throat, so tight I nearly choke on it. This is the last place I want to be—at the entrance to the most notorious fraternity on campus.

  Well, technically not a frat anymore. After one too many angry write-ups from the administrators over their legendary wilder-than-a-teen-college-movie parties, they were forced to officially disband. All the same brothers still live under its roof, and to judge by the rumors, they still throw just as over-the-top parties as they did before. But technically they’re no longer a fraternity. Just a collection of college students who live together and happen to be male.

  Coming here tonight is my ticket into Tri Delta, the sorority I want to join. So, I have to overcome my nerves right now.

  I blame Taylor, I think as I trudge along the sidewalk, Granite House’s enormous, stately façade looming over me. You can still see the faint outline against the stone where their Greek letters used to hang, sun-bleached into it by time, although the letters themselves have been removed.

  Another punishment handed down from on high.

  This is the last type of party I would normally be caught dead at. My parents would kill me if they knew I was standing here now. But after lunch this afternoon…

  I’m not even sure how I got here. It all happened so fast. One minute Taylor, Bailey, and I were eating lunch in the cafeteria, and the next we were being swarmed by Tri Deltas. Apparently my freshman year roommate and best friend on campus, Taylor, failed to mention the tiny little fact that her older sister is the president of the most popular sorority on campus.

  Melody swooped right in to kiss her sister’s cheek, all while Bailey and I fired looks at one another across the table like what is going on?

  Taylor just laughed at the expressions on our faces. “Yes, my sister is the Melody Monroe. It’s not a big deal. Didn’t you guess from my last name?”

  “I just figured it was a coincidence.” I shrank in on myself, sheepish.

  Melody laughed too, light and airy. Even her laugh was cool. How was that possible? “Don’t worry, girls.” She touched my hand lightly then, and I felt a thrill go through me. I could feel the eyes of every other girl in the cafeteria fixed on us at that moment—and most of the guys, too.

  Just being in Melody’s vicinity made us interesting. Worthy of scrutiny. What would it be like to actually be a Tri Delta like her?

  “TayTay already put in a good word for you,” Melody continued. “That is, if you’re interested in pledging.”

  My stomach dropped all the way through the floor at the sound of that. Of course I wanted to pledge, but… “Can we?” I asked, hating the way my voice rose at the end, nearly to a squeak.

  “Of course.” Melody leaned down to steal a French fry from my plate. Earlier I practically slapped Bailey’s hand away to stop her doing the same, but when it was Melody…

  I just stared, holding my breath.

  When I first enrolled here, I thought about joining a sorority. I’d watched enough movies in the past to get an idea of how it might feel, to be a part of something bigger than myself. A group you could count on for your whole life. More than just friends, those girls were sisters.

  Yeah, I wanted that. Cheesy as it might be.

  “I should mention, though,” Melody continued after she’d finished eating my fry, “we’re very selective.”

  Over her shoulder, another girl, equally beautiful and effortlessly cool, nodded. “We want to make sure our sisters have our backs. That’s what our whole pledge process is about. Loyalty.”

  “Not that we play pledge games in Tri Delta.” Melody cut a glance at the other girl. “No nasty chores or anything to make you suffer.”

  Another girl nodded. “It’s really difficult, but I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  I smiled back. I could play this game. “Anything that I can do to make my chances better?”

  She waved a hand. “Oh, just be yourself.” She wrapped her arms around Taylor and hugged her. “Have any of you been to your first party yet?”

  Bailey snorted. “It’s like the second day of school.”

  “And I think there have already been five or six parties,” Melody said.

  “No,” I answered. “I haven’t.”

  “There’s one tonight at Granite House,” one of the other Tri Deltas said.

  Melody rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Veronica. A Granite House party is not a beginner’s party.”

  Veronica laughed and also stole one of my French fries. “Just saying.”

  “What’s Granite House?” I asked.

  Taylor choked on her soda. “You don’t know?”

  “If I did, why would I ask?”

  Melody leaned across the table, eyes sparkling. “Granite House throws infamous parties. They’re a house right off campus where a bunch of guys live, and they used to be a fraternity until the school pulled the funding because things got too rowdy and the police were called one too many times. But they still act like a fraternity. You have to apply to get in and live there.” She paused. “Actually, I changed my mind. Your name was Juno, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I felt like my breath had gone shallow in my chest. I felt a little silly for being happy that someone like her knew my name, but it was exciting! The leader of the Tri Deltas knew my name.

  “Since Granite House isn’t a real fraternity anymore, they can’t have certain rules like the Greek houses can. Like they can’t say that only men are allowed to live there.”

  I frowned. “Meaning...”

  “Meaning.” She grinned, suddenly wicked. “Tonight is the last night that they’re accepting ‘pledges.’ We had this idea that it would be fun to go and pledge to Granite House and see what they would do if a girl did it. No one has ever done it before. But we’re all already Tri Deltas, not freshmen, so…”

  Suddenly it was all seeming to come together. “You want me to do that?”

  “You don’t have to actually join Granite House. Just pretend you want to, at the party. Spend all night driving them wild.”

  My jaw dropped. “But…”

  Melody held up a hand, already foreseeing my protests. “You don’t have to do it. Don’t worry. It won’t affect your chances of getting into Tri Delta or anything.”

  “If I
do do it, though…” I glanced from Melody to Taylor and back.

  Even Taylor looked surprise at her own sister’s suggestion. But she was smiling, too. “It could be fun…” she admitted slowly.

  “I’ll bet the guys there would die of shock,” Bailey added with a wicked smirk of her own.

  “And, if you did go through with the dare…” Melody shrugged one shoulder elegantly. “It would definitely go a long way to showing that you’re Tri Delta material.”

  “Loyal,” put in another girl behind her.

  “And willing to drive some guys wild on behalf of your sisters,” snickered another.

  “It’s just one night.” Melody shrugged again. “But, like I said, no pressure…”

  I could do that, right? Spending a night in a house full of guys couldn’t be that bad. Especially if they let me just sleep on the couch. Anyway, Bailey had some pepper spray and I could take that with me, just in case.

  “Okay,” I said, after a long pause. “Sure. How hard could it be?”

  Melody looked shocked and delighted. “Oh my god, this is going to be so epic. Okay, girls, no one go to the Granite party tonight. We don’t want to throw Juno off her game.”

  My face blanched. I’d be going in there solo?

  It’s fine. You can do this.

  Taylor grinned. “We’ll make sure you look killer.”

  “I don’t need to look killer,” I said. “I just need to walk in and spend the night.”

  “No, Juno,” Taylor rolled her eyes. “They’re just as exclusive as the Tri Deltas. You think they’re going to let you walk in there and accept your pledge if you’re wearing jeans and a ratty old t-shirt? I don’t think so.”

  I glanced down. I didn’t think the shirt that I had on was ratty. It was just one of my favorites, and well worn. Something that I wore when I needed to feel comfortable and safe. And being brand new on campus, comfortable and safe was exactly what I needed. I wasn’t like everyone else here. I had worked hard and was technically younger than everyone else. I turned eighteenth just a month ago.

  But I could still do this. I would do this. One night was a more than fair sacrifice for a better university experience. If it helped me get into the Tri Deltas, it would be worth it.

  “I think she’s going to need proof,” Veronica said. “You know, something to prove that she spent the night.”

  Bailey rolled her eyes. “What, get a picture of one of the boys in pajamas?”

  “Hmmm.” Melody looked at me and thought. “Not a picture. That can be staged. But you’ll figure something out. Something personal that they wouldn’t give to you.”

  I laughed nervously. “I don’t want to steal.”

  She reached out and patted my hand. “Not steal. Borrow. You’ll give it back once you’ve shown us.”

  I swallowed, and nodded. “Okay.”

  And so I let them dress me in one of Taylor’s dresses. I have my own, but they’re not quite the type of sexy that I needed. This dress is tighter than any that I own, and brighter too. It’s a shimmery blue that makes a statement.

  And Taylor did my make-up too. Something to make my eyes and lips stand out and seem bigger. I’ve never looked like this in my entire life, and as nervous as I am, it does feel nice to know that I can look this good.

  I’m going to walk into Granite House and make them want me, I think now, as I near the house, already pulsing with music and voices. My stomach drops with anxiety.

  I can do it. And I’ll get to sleep in my own bed tomorrow.

  I can already hear the party from down the block. No wonder the cops get called regularly. I wouldn’t want to listen to this 24/7 either. And most of the houses around here are filled with students living nearby. If they’re the ones calling the cops, then you absolutely know that it’s serious.

  Ugh. This is so not my scene. I hate parties. And party boys. I have no doubt that every one of the guys who live in Granite House fit that description. They’re here to get a degree while shuffling through their classes hungover, barely making the grades and taking advantage of the last years in their life that they won’t have any responsibility.

  They’re not here for anything else. Not to learn, or to bond with their brothers the way the Tri Deltas unite with their sisters. They just want to party for all they’re worth.

  I can already tell.

  I see the house on the corner. It’s huge, and I get why they called it Granite House after the fraternity was disbanded. It’s a giant, square, colonial monstrosity. Three stories of rosy pink bricks and delicate pillars and balconies that have no place on a house that’s filled with such debauchery. But it looks solid, and the color of the bricks does look like granite from a distance.

  But who knows...maybe they named it that because they thought that it sounded manly?

  People are everywhere. Girls and guys with the classic red solo cups that are the quintessential part of every college party. I won’t be partaking of that, thank you very much.

  I take a deep breath before turning the corner and heading up the stairs toward the pounding bass and cacophony of voices spilling out from the open doors and windows. I can do this, is the constant refrain in my head on repeat. It’s only one night. I can do this.

  The heels I’m wearing wobble under my feet, and someone whistles as I walk up the stairs. I resist the urge to pull down the short skirt of the dress. All I need to do is find the leader and get this over with. Once he says yes, I’ll find a quiet corner and hide for the rest of the night.

  A guy with dark hair and a clearly drunk smile leans against the doorframe. “Hey there, welcome to Granite House.” He tries to pass me a red cup, but I push it away.

  “No thanks. I’m looking for the leader.”

  He squints at me. “The leader of what?”

  “Granite House.”

  “Yeah, we don’t have a leader here.” He uses his fingers for air quotes while looking down his nose at me. “We’re not a frat anymore. Haven’t you heard?”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, who decides who gets to live here.”

  “It’s a vote.” His smile is now less drunk and more like he’s toying with me.

  “Sure it is,” I say, about to give him a piece of my mind. But the memories of Taylor and Melody and the Tri Deltas fill my mind. If they were here, they’d tell me that this isn’t the way to get what I want. No, I need to be exactly who this guy thinks I am. I plaster on a smile. “Come on. You know what I’m asking, so show me who I’m looking for and maybe I’ll find you later and I’ll take that drink.”

  He looks me up and down and takes in the dress that I’m wearing with one raised eyebrow. “The guy you’re looking for is Malcolm. He’s playing poker in the back.”

  “Thanks.”

  I drop the smile as soon as I’m past him. Malcom. I have a name at least. And he said toward the back. The back of where?

  I weave through the party, scanning faces. The people I’m wading through are already drunk and it’s barely dark out. I guess this is what college means to them. It’s the day before classes start. I have no idea why anyone would want to get this drunk and go to class on their very first day with a hangover, but hey, to each their own, I guess.

  What am I doing here? I wonder, not for the first time. But Tri Deltas aren’t like this. They don’t throw ragers. They might attend now and then, but once I’m a part of them, it won’t matter how many parties I show up to.

  I’ll be part of a sisterhood, for good.

  Tonight, though… Well. I wade through this mess. And hope that I can get the hell out of here by the time dawn breaks, since I have my first lab class tomorrow morning, early.

  Another good reason not to drink.

  As I slowly make my way through people dancing and making out and playing various drinking games, I also keep an eye out for the proof that I’m supposed to collect. So far I don’t see anything that would qualify, but I’ll find something.

  Nearing the back of the house,
there’s a huge kitchen that’s exploded in bags of chips, cases of beer, and some hard liquor too. I barely hold off rolling my eyes. You would think these people were trying to drown themselves in alcohol.

  There’s another guy who looks too comfortable not to live here, stuffing his face with Doritos. “I’m looking for Malcolm,” I say.

  He turns and looks at me, and his eyes drop along my body. “Why?”

  “That’s my business,” I say, plastering on that smile again.

  He points to the left. “In there.”

  I walk toward a set of closed double doors, and I ignore the guys sputtering protests behind me as I walk straight through into a room that is far, far quieter than the rest of the house. Six guys sit around a table, playing cards. They look up at me as one when I come through.

  “Party is back out there,” one of them says.

  “I’m looking for Malcolm,” I say, holding my ground. I didn’t expect for this room to be this intimidating. But for some reason, the sudden quiet from the music and their casual ease makes them seem less like college students and more like the mafia. Especially with the pile of money in the center of the table.

  One guy—though “guy” doesn’t begin to describe the tall dark and handsomely chiseled man seated directly across from me—meets my eyes. “I’m Malcolm, and if you can’t tell, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  He flips his cards over. “Pair of aces.”

  “Dammit,” another one says. “Every time.”

  Malcolm grins. “You have a tell.” Then he looks at me. “This is a private game. What do you want?”

  “I came to pledge to Granite House.”

  Immediately it feels like all air has been sucked out of the room. I expected… I don’t know what. Protests, maybe. Outrage, shock? Some of the guys look shocked, true. But Malcom? His face is unreadable.