I watch them go until she disappears around the stairwell, my hand still resting against the doorframe like a guy stuck between two realities—one where I tell her everything, and one where I don’t.
Because this secret is only temporary.
But Julia? She’s always my endgame.
Ace
I look fucking good.
Like, walk-into-a-room-and-start-a-slow-clap good. The shirt’s black, the collar’s sharp, and the diamond cuff links I stole from my dad are glinting just enough to saymy bloodline pays taxes in commas.
I adjust the collar again, turn slightly, and admire my studly reflection one more time. It’s giving presidential. It’s giving dangerous. It’s giving “this man controls the playlistandthe legacy.”
It’s only a little after five p.m., and I’m certain I’ve never been ready for a Saturday night this early, but tonight isthenight. There’s a new Double C sheriff in town, and his name is Ace motherfucking Kelly.
As I run a comb through my hair with the goal of giving laid-backGQmodel, I snort a little when I think about the fact that my fucking mom of all people ended up being a chair of the campus’s biggest secret society. What are the fucking odds, man? I mean, seriously, if there was a spread in Vegas, the payout would have to be exponential.
I glance at my phone, fully expecting Blake and Finn to have finally texted back their Double C attendance confirmation or to have a status update from Julia who’s been MIA all day since leaving with Yoko this morning, but the screen shows nada.
I frown briefly. I know Julia was upset this morning and not reaching out to go to the football game with her this afternoon probably made matters worse, but she’ll cool down and we’ll moveon. She always does. We just need our fifteen minutes, even if this time, it’s running a little closer to eight hours.
I sigh and click into to my message with Finn and Blake again.
Those fuckers need to be there tonight so I can get a load of their faces when they grasp the awesome reality we’re heading toward this year. I can already picture myself standing at the helm—the handsome center of attention—and the crowd going batshit crazy when I tell them that I’m their new leader. But I need my best guys right there in the front when I make the official announcement that I’m the new prez.
I mean, no offense to Lexi Winslow—she was one hell of a Double C president—but this is me we’re talking about here. If anyone can bring Double C to a level where it’s world-renowned, it’s this guy right here. The future event ideas I already have rolling around inside my head are equal parts this-might-be-illegal and oh-fuck-yeah.
I spritz on a little cologne, willing a new message to pop up in the thread from Finn or Blake, but aside from smelling fucking delightful, nothing has changed.
Unacceptable.
My debut as president of Double C is in six hours. I need my guys in position. Fully hyped. Properly dressed. Emotionally ready.
I grab my phone off the counter and start firing off texts.
Me: Reminder… if either of you bail tonight you’re dead to me
Me: And I’ll fucking haunt your apartments. Knock shit off shelves and shit
Me: Finn I saw the three dots. Don’t play with me.
Bubble. Bubble. Ding.
Finn: It’s 5 p.m., bro. Relax. We’ve got hours until we’re supposed to be there. In fact, I don’t think we’ve ever even gotten a text this early before.
Relax? Does he think Lincoln was chill before the Gettysburg Address? This is my fucking Sistine Chapel!
And a critique on the text timing at this delicate moment? Fucking hell, it sure is good Finn is handsome because he’s pissing me off. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know I’m the sender; we should be synced up like a couple of roommates approaching menstruation!
Me: All I’m asking is for a little confirmation of your attendance tonight Finnley. God forbid I’m trying to make sure our sophomore year is a good fucking time.
Boden:Not gonna lie, I’d rather stay home with Lexi.Today’s game against Pennington kicked my ass.
What the fucking fuck?
Me: Boden I’m disappointed.
Me: The Campus Golden Boy should be high off his win today and ready to fucking celebrate. Not whining about wanting to stay home like a little bitch baby. What the hell bro? These are the best years of our lives. Now is the time to live it up.
