Only a week has passed since I officially became Double C’s newest prez, but it’s safe to say, after tonight’s event, I’m fucking crushing it.
Surely that’s not a shock to anyone. I mean, this is me we’re talking about. Ace motherfucking Kelly. My legacy speaks for itself.
The fountain water is still drying off my shoes after the big “death scene,” and I’ve already been pulled into seven group photos, handed three beers, and been told I’m the best Double C president since the underground poker scandal of 2016. Which, honestly, I’ve heard rumors about that Double C era, and whoever was running shit back then had some serious range.
Prodigy or not, though, 2016’s motherfucker is no match for me.
Tonight’s Double C event was flawless. Our “Dead Man Walking” event turned into full-campus chaos in the best way. It was a murder mystery that spanned three buildings, two frat houses, and a suspiciously well-dressed janitor. And the ending?Bro.If Epic and Dramatic and Mind-Blowing had a polyamorous relationship that ended in a baby boy named Awesome who grows a goatee and muscles by their first birthday, that still wouldn’t equate to what I pulled off tonight.
While everyone was scouring campus trying to figure out whowas the killer on the loose and who was the target, I got fake-stabbed on the quad lawn. My death was sudden but dramatic, fake blood spurting everywhere, and I fell into the fountain like a champ.
Honestly, if a Hollywood director would’ve seen that performance, I’d already have a free, first-class flight to LA.
Needless to say, shit popped off. And because I refuse to leave any party-stone unturned, now we’re balls deep in the first official Double C after party.
Which is new. No other Double C president thought to cap an event with an actual after party.
But this, this is where the magic happens.
The lights are low, the basement is packed, music’s good, and everyone’s feeling high off the rush of the night.
You’re a fucking god among men.I mentally pat myself on the back when I see how many Double C members are enjoying themselves. I’ve been plotting and scheming all week for this shit. It’s not easy planning a secret society event without letting any secrets out of the bag or making university staff suspicious.
Hosting an after party inside the basement of the math building without any professors finding out? It’s fucking diabolical. But thankfully, all my borderline-illegal hard work has paid off, and no one with the power to expel me from Dickson for good is any the wiser.
I may have had to skip several classes and slack on some of my coursework, but obviously, it’s all been worth it. Plus, I’m sure beautiful tutor Julia will be kind enough to help me catch up. One week of slacking isn’t going to erase all the hard work I did the first month of school.
Speaking of my favorite girl, now that the event is over and the after party is in full, successful swing, it’s time to get shit back on track. My big plan to find the perfect moment—sans accidental poisoning this time—to tell Julia I’m in love with her had to be put on the back burner temporarily so I could get my presidential feet under me, but after tonight’s success, I think it’s safe to say I canrealign my focus. And frankly, I’m such a natural talent at this shit, she’s probably spent the week being impressed anyway.
I haven’t seen her much since we’ve been like two ships passing in the night—me with wrangling volunteers in secret locations and figuring out how to stage death scenes and her with study groups, lunch with Scottie or Kayla, and some TA thing she’s helping Scottie with that’s focused on students with disabilities on campus. I’m pretty sure at one point, she even had to run home to Jersey to do a family dinner or something.
It’s beenbusy. But I’m so fucking ready to see her I can hardly stand myself.
I move through the party, eyes focused on finding Julia within the crowd. A few girls try to chat me up, one chick in a pink dress that shows a lot of leg even wraps her arm around my shoulders, but I politely disengage and stay on task.
Sure, Ace Kelly is a lover of beautiful women. But Ace Kelly only wants to loveonewoman, so if your name isn’t Julia Brooks, you might as well be as dead to me as I was in the fountain a couple hours ago.
I spot her eventually, near a kegerator, her pretty face scrunched up in hilarity as she laughs about something in that adorable way of hers. By default, I look for Scottie or Finn or Blake or Kayla, expecting them to be the reason for her joy, but instead, I find that douche Drewbacca standing close and moving some errant hair out of her eyes.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
I thought she was done with this guy. I mean, it’s been weeks since she’s mentioned him at all, and suddenly they’re all cozy at my fucking party? Pfft.
Whatever. I’ve had to deal with his lame ass before, and whatshisface is boring anyway. He’s predictable. He’s clearly not the kind of man Julia Brooks falls in love with.
They’re talking and laughing, and even though I want to barge in between and shove the bastard out of here and onto the third railof the closest subway stop, I decide to be a gentleman and pause my steps. I don’t need to interrupt. He’ll time himself out soon.
And then, I’ll step in and find a way to get my girl alone, away from the crowd and the noise.
I tuck behind a corner of the wall, leaning into the plaster and checking my fingernails for dried fake blood. I scrubbed hard, but that shit is invasive.
Peering around the corner, I look back to Julia and Boring Bozo, expecting them to be wrapping shit up any minute, but if anything, they seem to be standing even closer than before.
Her smile is still firmly in place, and his grubby fingers are dancing all over her hip now. I frown and shove away from the wall.
Drew finally pulls back a little, but instead of stepping away, he turns toward the crowd around them, his voice loud enough to cut through the music.
“Julia,” he says, and he has this stupid half grin on his face. “I wasn’t planning to do this in front of, like, half the university, but here we are.”
