1
BEN
Nate has the new pledges eating out of the palm of his hand as he stands at the head of the meeting room and gives them the welcome speech.
“A fraternity is about brotherhood. It’s about supporting each other, while also holding one another accountable so we can be our best.”
I scan the faces in the room, each one giving Nate their full attention. A mix of excitement and trepidation. When my gaze lands on Jamie Rosenthal, I pause, noting the extra trepidation on his face, the way he keeps biting the nail on his thumb and pushing the bridge of his thick-rimmed glasses up like it’s some sort of ritual. I have to remind myself not to judge him by his brother’s behavior. Priestley Rosenthal was my fraternity president last year, and despite some good qualities, he was also kind of an ass—at least he was to me. I could be wrong, but Jamie lacks Priestley’s air of entitlement. He isn’t looking around like he owns everyone and everything in the room—as if we bore him.
He catches me studying him and blushes before looking away.
“For the next few weeks, we will put you guys through your paces to see if you’re the right fit for Alpha Sigma Psi,” Nate continues. “But also, this is your chance to see if Alpha Sig is the right fit for you. We want to know that you take your place here seriously. That’s the core of pledging: determining if you measure up for brotherhood, determining if this suits your aspirations. Of course we’ll have fun, too, but being in a frat isn’t all parties and shirtless car washes.”
Nate gets a few laughs from that. Jamie Rosenthal turns pale. I have to stop myself from jumping in to reassure him that no one will force him to take his shirt off.
Nate splits the group up to pair the pledges with their big bros.
“These will be the brothers who look out for you. You go to them if you have any problems.Anyproblems.”
The pledges nod. They’re all so wide-eyed and eager to impress.
God, I remember being like that.
Nate turns to me with a warm, familiar smile, and I have to stop a goofy expression from spreading across my face.
Okay, so maybe I still am.
“Ben is our vice president. He helps run the frat daily and is also our financial wizard. He keeps our expenses in order and manages our funds. That includes mixers and other fun activities.”
A few of the pledges glance at each other.He said there was going to be fun, right?
“Ben’s birthday party, in fact, is one of those fun things we’re planning.”
My cheeks get hot from the attention. I hope none of the pledges have noticed. The last impression I want to make as Vice President is ‘blusher.’
“And I don’t want you to worry about pledge week.” Nateadds. “There will be no hazing or anything like that here. And if you hear about any other pledges in other fraternities experiencing anything even resembling hazing …”
Archer coughs and it sounds suspiciously like “Kappa.”
“ … I want you to come to me, Ben, or one of your big bros and report it. It’s not snitching if someone’s being an asshole. Got it?”
There are a few nervous titters at Nate’s curse before they all nod and murmur their agreement.
Nate lets Archer and Miles take over with the pledges. Their first task is to go to the grocery store and collect our huge weekly grocery list and bring it all back here by the time our house cook shows up for the evening meal.
I can’t help but smile at how enthusiastic the pledges are—gearing up for the weekly grocery haul like they’re about to go into a locked room mystery. The only one who hangs back and doesn’t seem as pumped is Jamie. I make a mental note to talk to Archer—Jamie’s big bro and co-pledge master—about keeping a special eye on him. I know Archer didn’t exactly love Priestley, either, but I’m sure even he’s mature enough to refrain from taking it out on Priestley’s little brother.
Nate guides me out of the room by the elbow, waiting until we’re in the reasonable privacy of the kitchen before he talks.
“That went well, I think.” His hand is trembling as he loosens his tie and undoes the top button on his shirt. “What do you think? It went well, right?”
How could Nate ever be self-conscious? He’s like … perfect in every way. I swallow, try to ignore the lump in my throat.
“It went really well. You did great.”
The tension in his shoulders drops. “Yeah?”
“Yes!”
