I’ve been there. Maybe I still am.
His tongue flicks across his lower lip before he speaks.
“Sir, I was?—”
“Spit it out.”
He swallows. Hard. “Okay… How did you become president?”
I’m in.
No matter what this kid tells me now? I want him to be my successor. Above the names, the glitz, the money… Moses Graves should beDelta’snext president.
Not the rich boys. Not the legacies. Moses Graves.
A nobody like me.
A kid who had to fight his way intoDeltawith grit instead of birthright.
“It wasn’t easy,” I tell him. “And it wasn’t something I ever thought I’d do.”
“I know.” His voice lowers. “I’ve heard rumors?—”
“It’s not pretty,” I cut in. “And you’ll need a friend.”
His head lifts, brown eyes shining with hope.
“It can’t be me. Or any upperclassman. You’re on your own there. It’s part of the test of being worthy.”
He nods, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “So…offing someone? We do that freshman year?—”
“No. None of those easy assassination assignments for wayward Seventh Society members. Not accepting an appointment with someone’s daughter you didn’t want, either.”
He leans forward. “So, what’s the ritual for becoming president?”
“What you have to do is…dangerous. And disgusting. And it’ll stick in your head for years.” I scrub a hand over my jaw. “If you really want the presidency, I’ll tell you exactly what I did.”
Moses meets my gaze evenly for the first time.
“I want it,” he says, voice firm.
For a moment, I see myself at eighteen—broke, nameless, furious at the world, and desperate for a crown I had no right to claim.
“Alright,” I murmur.
I take a breath.
“This is the story of how I became president ofDelta Pi Alpha.”
eight
A Year Ago
“Is it itchy?”
“No.”
“Burning? Tingling?”
