“What?” I narrow my gaze. “Like a promise to narc on pieces of sh—” When her mouth thins with disapproval, I clear my throat. “What does the contract entail?”
“This would involve you taking on a role as a model student. You would participate in campus events, attend ceremonies, and various university activities left up to the discretion of the Obsidian Order. It’s a way for you to demonstrate your character to your professors, as well as your fellow students.”
I open my mouth, close it, and then try again. “The Obsidian Order… as in the fraternity?”
“Yes, dear. It is our most prestigious foundation on campus. It dates back to before the university was even built.”
“So, this whole ordeal is like a community service thing?”
Mrs. Shipley nods. “In a sense. It’s a good way to show your commitment to the university’s values and prove you’re an asset to the community. Signing this contract would also be an acknowledgement that you understand the seriousness of the situation and are willing to take responsibility for your part in it.”
I fold my arms with a sigh. “I don’t see any other option for me.”
“It’d be in your best interest to do this.”
The older woman shifts her attention to her computer and clicks the mouse before typing for several minutes. Every time she presses a button, my stomach knots a little more. I don’tknow what else I can do except go along with this stupid contract. As much as I’d like to tell everyone to kiss my ass, it won’t do me any good.
I silently curse at Professor Ames and the other student. Calling them cockwombles and cumstains almost makes me smile. Almost.
The hum of the printer interrupts my internal barrage of insults. Mrs. Shipley grabs several sheets of paper which has me frowning. How many pages is this contract? After the tenth page, I begin to lament the tree that sacrificed itself on my behalf.
“Here you go,” she says, sliding the stack of papers to me. “Legal documents are very thorough. Read it carefully so you’re fully aware of what you’re committing to. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
“This is longer than I expected,” I mutter.
I quickly scan the words on the first page. The legalese on the document is mind-numbing. It’s paragraph after paragraph filled with dense language that seems designed to confuse more than inform.
After a few seconds, my eyes glaze over as I try to decipher the tiny font outlining the clauses and obligations in the contract. My academic advisor watches me with a smile, but her attentiveness is a little overwhelming. She’s not rushing me, but my intuition says she wants me to hurry up. I’m sure she has other tasks to complete that don’t include managing my crisis.
“I think I get the gist of it,” I say. “I sign, do my time, and keep my scholarship, right?”
She nods. “That’s the general idea. Make sure to note that your point of contact will be Professor Ames. Unless he appoints a senior to direct you, he’s the one who will reach out with the details of the upcoming events.”
I’m sure that dickhead will have me picking up trash alongside the road just to humiliate me. As long as my duties arenothing unconventional, I’ll handle them just fine. Growing up in the foster care system isn’t for the weak.
I pick up the pen, eyes widening at my shaking fingers. This situation is grossly unfair and pisses me off, but it’s fear that’s wrapping around my hands and making them tremble. I flip to the last page and scrawl my signature across the dotted line before I lose my nerve.
After shoving the document toward Mrs. Shipley, I blow out a breath. Instead of feeling relieved that I’m doing everything to save my future, a sense of doom hovers over me like a raincloud.
She snatches the papers from the desk. Almost like she doesn’t want me to change my mind. “Although you’ll be on probation with Professor Ames for the rest of the semester, your obligations will last for the entire school year. Take this seriously, and you might find it more rewarding than you expect. It’s an honor to be affiliated with the Obsidian Order.”
I get to my feet, shifting my gaze from her face, alight with pride and sophistication, and concentrate on the nameplate on her desk. “Thanks,” I mumble. “Shipley, as in one of the founding families?”
She beams up at me. “That is correct.”
That explains why she’s drinking the kool-aid the fraternity is serving. Too bad she’s snorting it as well.
Chapter 22
DELILAH
Subject: Urgent:
Obsidian Order Ceremony Details
Delilah,
I trust this message finds you ready and willing to perform your contractual obligations. The Obsidian Order ceremony is slated for this night, September 3rd, commencing sharply at 9:00 PM. The venue is discreetly tucked away at 124 Oak Street, within the walls of our fraternity house.
