Games Frat Boys Play by Todd Gregory Read Free Book Online
Authors: Todd Gregory
to get a bid on my own, without any more help from Jeff and Blair. The âRush boot campâ theyâd put me through had already given me a leg up on the other guys rushing. At my insistence, Jeff and Blair had even agreed to not show up for the first night of Rush. I was on my own, and as I walked past the other houses I started to relax. Youâre getting yourself all worked up for absolutely no reason. Just because you didnât fit in at St. Bernard doesnât mean you arenât going to fit in at Beta Kappa. Youâre smart, youâre funny, and you have a lot to offer, just like Blair and Jeff said. Just be yourself and donât be nervous, I said to myself over and over as I drew closer and closer to the end of the mall.
And before I knew it, I was standing in front of Beta Kappa.
I swallowed nervously again.
Just go up the walk and inside, I told myself. Thereâs no reason to be nervous.
Yet in spite of myself, I flashed back to being ten years old and arriving at St. Bernard. I remembered my roommate, a French kid named Guy deMontespan, looking at me as though I were something heâd stepped in. âI am descended from Louis XIV, the glorious Sun King,â heâd said, his lip curling into a sneer, âand they put me in a room with some nobody American?â
It was the last time Guy spoke to me. Heâd complained and gotten switched to another room. I wound up with a single room because no one else wanted to be my roommate. And Iâd stayed in a single room for eight long, lonely years.
Thatâs the past, Jordy. No one here knows you were the most unpopular student at St. Bernard. No one here is going to judge you because you donât have royal blood or because you canât trace your ancestry back to the Crusades. This is the United States and things like that donât matter here. Here youâre judged on your merits, and thatâs what the brothers will do. Youâre an A student. You speak four languages.
And my parents were stinking rich.
I put that thought out of my head. Mom and Dad always drilled into me the importance of standing on my own. So what if I was a failure at making friends at St. Bernard? This was a whole new world. No one here knew Iâd been lonely and picked on there. I was making a fresh start.
Maybe I should have come with Blair and Jeff. Why am I so stupid? They already know everyone. They could have introduced me around, and it wouldnât be like Iâm a total stranger.
I shook my head and forced the negativity out. I squared my shoulders, bit my lip, and took a deep breath. The front door of the house was wide open, and I could see a table set up just inside for registering. The house wasnât like the others on the mallâthe others looked like plantation houses with wide verandas and columns. The Beta Kappa house was more modern looking. To the right of the entryway the house was about a story and a half high; the wall facing the mall was all glass but hidden behind curtains. To the left it was two stories high. That was the dormitory sideâtwo floors of rooms to house the brothers.
A group of guys brushed past me and headed up the walk to the front door. This is it, I told myself, and followed them. Just inside the door I could see the entryway into the larger room, and over it was a sign reading WELCOME PROSPECTIVES TO CASINO NIGHT ! I could see a couple of blackjack tables set up, and the dealers were relatively attractive young girls. The group of guys whoâd passed me had stepped to the side, filling out application forms while a guy seated behind the table was making name tags for them. I took a deep breath and walked up to the table.
The guy making name tags was good looking, wearing a tight red polo shirt over a pair of jeans. His dark hair was gelled so it stood up in the center of his head, and he had a light dusting of pimples on his face. His ears stuck out a bit, and he had a gap
And before I knew it, I was standing in front of Beta Kappa.
I swallowed nervously again.
Just go up the walk and inside, I told myself. Thereâs no reason to be nervous.
Yet in spite of myself, I flashed back to being ten years old and arriving at St. Bernard. I remembered my roommate, a French kid named Guy deMontespan, looking at me as though I were something heâd stepped in. âI am descended from Louis XIV, the glorious Sun King,â heâd said, his lip curling into a sneer, âand they put me in a room with some nobody American?â
It was the last time Guy spoke to me. Heâd complained and gotten switched to another room. I wound up with a single room because no one else wanted to be my roommate. And Iâd stayed in a single room for eight long, lonely years.
Thatâs the past, Jordy. No one here knows you were the most unpopular student at St. Bernard. No one here is going to judge you because you donât have royal blood or because you canât trace your ancestry back to the Crusades. This is the United States and things like that donât matter here. Here youâre judged on your merits, and thatâs what the brothers will do. Youâre an A student. You speak four languages.
And my parents were stinking rich.
I put that thought out of my head. Mom and Dad always drilled into me the importance of standing on my own. So what if I was a failure at making friends at St. Bernard? This was a whole new world. No one here knew Iâd been lonely and picked on there. I was making a fresh start.
Maybe I should have come with Blair and Jeff. Why am I so stupid? They already know everyone. They could have introduced me around, and it wouldnât be like Iâm a total stranger.
I shook my head and forced the negativity out. I squared my shoulders, bit my lip, and took a deep breath. The front door of the house was wide open, and I could see a table set up just inside for registering. The house wasnât like the others on the mallâthe others looked like plantation houses with wide verandas and columns. The Beta Kappa house was more modern looking. To the right of the entryway the house was about a story and a half high; the wall facing the mall was all glass but hidden behind curtains. To the left it was two stories high. That was the dormitory sideâtwo floors of rooms to house the brothers.
A group of guys brushed past me and headed up the walk to the front door. This is it, I told myself, and followed them. Just inside the door I could see the entryway into the larger room, and over it was a sign reading WELCOME PROSPECTIVES TO CASINO NIGHT ! I could see a couple of blackjack tables set up, and the dealers were relatively attractive young girls. The group of guys whoâd passed me had stepped to the side, filling out application forms while a guy seated behind the table was making name tags for them. I took a deep breath and walked up to the table.
The guy making name tags was good looking, wearing a tight red polo shirt over a pair of jeans. His dark hair was gelled so it stood up in the center of his head, and he had a light dusting of pimples on his face. His ears stuck out a bit, and he had a gap