CHAPTER ONE
jason
Light pouredthrough the large front-lawn-facing windows, bathing the living room in shades of newly polished gold. Scents of coffee and fried eggs lured me out of my room and into the chaos of a regular Beta Epsilon Lambda morning.
Peanut skipped over to the bottom of the stairs, rising to his hind legs and missing my nuts by a fraction of an inch. It wouldn’t have been the first time I was incapacitated by our golden retriever like that. His paws hit my legs, and his tongue lolled out, big eyes flashing with excitement.
“Whose turn is it?” I asked, fingers running through Peanut’s fur.
Taylor looked over his bare shoulder from behind the kitchen island, oil dripping from the spatula, and grinned. “Yours, as always.” Something made the oil in the pan sizzle, and Taylor squealed when a tiny drop of it landed on his abs.
“At least put on an apron,” I said, passing by Peanut and pouring myself a big mug of steaming coffee from the large pot on the kitchen counter.
“Live a little,” Taylor teased.
Behind me, Logan and Jacob were in the middle of arm wrestling on the kitchen island, with Sam taking bets from Finn and Greg.
Another pop came from the pan, and Taylor jumped back with a rather high-pitched yelp. “No biggie. Nothing happened.”
The toaster ejected the bread slices, and I snagged one before Tyler could slap my hand away with the oily spatula, stuck it in my mouth, picked up my coffee, and snapped a finger at Peanut, who had always loved clicking noises, to follow along.
The morning air was refreshing on my bare torso as Peanut and I stepped out of the Bel House. The front porch was still in use, although mist lingered late into the morning, and dew twinkled in the sunshine most days of the week. Piles of orange and brown leaves were raked neatly for Peanut to run around and jump into, which he did as soon as the door had opened.
I placed my coffee on top of a white wooden table and finished the toast before picking up a rubber bone, whistling at Peanut, and throwing the bone far across the lawn. My reach was the longest in the house, thanks very much. Years of football paid off in the most unexpected ways, one of which was making an excitable dog even more hyperactive.
While Peanut raced after the bone, I took a sip ofmy coffee, feeling the warmth of sunlight kiss my skin. A few passersby glanced at Peanut as he hurried back across the lawn to bring me the bone. When I scanned them, the passersby looked away, but not after letting their gazes linger a little longer on the spectacle.
Dogs were the best, and Peanut was their finest representative. People who paused to say hello to Peanut passed my vibe check.
Campus brimmed with life this morning, swelling with chatter, joggers, dog-walkers, hungover fraternity brothers on their walk of shame, colorful punks, glasses-adjusting nerds, cocky jocks, and all the variations of the above.
A couple of girls stopped at the edge of the Bel House lawn and melted over the sight of Peanut’s happy face popping out of a pile of leaves I would have to rake again in a minute.
“Who’s a handsome boy?” one of them asked excitedly.
I scratched the back of my head. “Aw, thanks,” I said, pretending to blush.
They both giggled. They asked about Peanut’s name and if he was mine.
“He’s his own boss, really,” I admitted. “We all just live in his house.” I pointed back at the Bel House with my thumb, taking a sip of coffee. My skin prickled when a cool breeze swept over the lawn.
Peanut got ear scratches and all the attention he could wish for before the girls said goodbye andwalked away, heads close and shoulders shaking as they hid their laughter.
Life was good on Elmwood University’s campus. All was well with the world during these buzzing, golden New England mornings. Even my life seemed to be taking a turn for the better. After failing Stats assignments twice so far, I finally submitted a test with confidence a few days ago. It was only a matter of days before I got the results and the confirmation I needed.
Coach Roberts was rubbing me about my scores, and I got it, but I wasn’t the smartest guy around. I could write you ten strategies to win a football season without losses, but I couldn’t find meaning in a pivot table if my sex life depended on it.
I threw the rubber bone above Peanut’s head, and he leaped into the air, snapping his jaws and missing the bone as usual. His little tush swayed as he trotted over to the leaves and dug up the bone. He was soon preoccupied by the revelation that if he kept digging through the leaves, they would keep flying all around him, which was apparently the most fun thing a dog could imagine.
“You keep on digging, old boy,” I said, drinking my coffee and turning to face the house. It was a sprawling thing in Neo-Colonial style with large front windows, a long porch, a tall roof, and enough rooms not just to let each fraternity brother living here have his own room, but to still have leftover space for parties, lounging, and other activities.
My room was on the far-left side, one lonely cactusdrinking in the morning sunlight, a rainbow flag covering the top third of the window, shutters hanging crookedly on each side.
The entire campus was aflame, various shades of fall replacing the lushness of summer.
Junior year promised to be a fun one. I liked the status of having lived here for two years. With every day, it was less of a place I stayed for a while and more of a home. Taylor lived here, Sam, Greg, Finn, and the rest of them. We were the old guard by now, taking over from the legends who shaped our fraternity from a drunken mess into something worth being a part of.
Not that we were above a keg party or a good prank, especially if the prank involved food coloring, water balloons, and the unfortunately named Kappa Gamma Beta house.