The Pledge (10 page)

“Hey, Alec.” Amanda flashed me a brilliant smile and climbed up on the mat next to the first trampoline. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“Are you finally going to give the tramp a chance?” Maureen asked, hopping up onto the second trampoline. She took a few small bounces to warm up.

I’d regularly been coming to Acroletes practice, but tonight was the first time I’d ever been in the trampoline room.

“Don’t talk about Amanda that way, Maureen.” Caz shook his head. “Just because she gives everyone a turn it doesn’t mean she’s a tramp.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “I didn’t give you a turn, asshole.” She pushed Caz off the trampoline that was next to me and claimed it for her own. She started jumping, and I wanted to kiss the man who invented trampolines. They paired so well with beautiful girls in tight clothes.

“What’s Caz teaching you?” Maureen asked, mid-jump.

“Nothing. We’re just here to play.” I tossed the football in the air and then jumped up to catch it.

“Like hell you are.” Caz threw a thick piece of canvas at me, hitting me in the chest. It had a buckle and metal rings on it. “That’s a spotting belt. Put it on, candy ass. You’re not leaving here until I teach you to flip.”

“I thought we were playing trampball.”

“Come on, Alec,” Amanda begged. “Give it a try. It’s fun.”

My eyes followed her as she peeled off her T-shirt and threw it to the side before making her way back to her own trampoline. Well, if that was her way of convincing me, it wasn’t a good argument. Given the choice, I’d rather sit and watch her and her tits bounce all night long.

“You gotta try it at least once,” Maureen added.

Caz was a genius, inviting the girls. He knew male pride didn’t know the meaning of the word “no” and it had no respect for the concept of “bad idea.” I was either going to leave this room with a neck brace or a new addiction.

After putting on the belt, Caz hooked me into the spotting rig. He held onto a rope to keep me from falling on my head. In theory anyway.

“What now?” I asked.

Caz laughed. “Dude. Now you’re going to fly.”

Chapter Nine

TAREN

“Climb up.” Doug’s pointer finger poked through the opening in his tent bed and hooked in a come-hither motion. I chewed on my lip, unsure of what I should do. He stuck his head out, a cheesy grin plastered across his face. “C’mon, Denton. I won’t bite. Much.”

I was nervous, but also excited. Pickles seemed to be attracted to me, and I was totally up for a little romance. I climbed the ladder, pulling the sheet to the side before I crawled onto his bed. The inside was dark, and my eyes took a minute to adjust. Doug was sprawled on his back, fully dressed,
thank you Jesus
, with his hands folded behind his head.

“I thought you said you guys were having a party tonight?” I narrowed my eyes in mock suspicion. He smelled like alcohol, but he didn’t appear to be drunk. Yet.

“Plans changed. The guys decided on poker night, but they wanted some cute girls to make the rushees happy. That’s why I wanted you to bring your friends. You and I, on the other hand, are having a private
fiesta
right here.”

“Are we?” I grinned and hoped he couldn’t see my dopey smile in the dark tent.

“A party for two.” He pulled me down next to him. “How was rush?”

“Okay, I guess. Weird. The synchronized dancing and chant singing freaked me out. It was like being trapped in
High School Musical,
but with a lot more floral furniture, and without any basketball players.”

He laughed. “Wait until the serenading begins for Homecoming. That’s some funny shit.” He turned onto his side and inched closer to me. My heart thudded against the inside of my chest. “You went to every house today, right?” I nodded, and he played with a piece of my hair. “What did you think of Tri-Gam?”

I shrugged. “They were really nice. Pretty girls. Beautiful house.”
Way out of my league.

Doug laughed quietly and rumpled my hair. I frowned at him and smoothed it back down. I was not a freaking puppy. Besides, I had spent twenty minutes with the flat iron, getting it nice and silky smooth.

“Tri-Gam is the top house on campus, and you belong there, Denton.”

Pickles thought I belonged in the best sorority on campus. A warmth spread through me, and I smiled up at him. Doug wasn’t an expert in charm or romance, but he was interested in me, and that counted for a lot.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” I challenged him. “I seem to remember you promising me a private
fiesta
.”

Doug smiled and then brought his mouth over mine, crushing his lips down forcefully. I felt like he was trying to suck the life right out of me. No, not forcefully, passionately. This was passionate, right?
Right?

Doug rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. I struggled to keep up with the pace of his kissing. His lips and tongue were everywhere, licking me like an ice cream cone. I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to be grossed out or turned on. Was he going to lick my face right off? So much for all that makeup I put on earlier.

I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, and Doug groaned as I accidentally ground my hips against his. I stopped moving and ended up nestled between his legs and felt...a third leg?
No, little chickadee, that is no leg.
Doug was definitely happy to see me, and his tongue was battling mine like they were a couple of gladiators fighting to the death.

Jesus, Denton. You’re getting kissed. Why are you thinking about gladiators? Focus.

I turned my head to get a breath. Doug took the opportunity to suck on my neck as he slid his hands over my ass before slipping them up under the hem of my shirt. I stiffened.
Oh no.
What if he went for the bra strap? How many dates did I need to have before I gave guys access to the tatas? They should have given out handbooks at orientation for this sort of thing.

The sound of something ripping surprised me, and I yanked my head away from Doug’s hoover lips.

“What was that?” I whispered.

“What?” He lifted his head to kiss me again, and I pushed him back down.

“That ripping sound. I heard something rip.” I cocked my head to the side, listening again.

Then someone moaned.

Doug chuckled. “Oh. That was a condom wrapper. Watson must have a visitor.”

“He’s having
sex
?” I whispered those three letters like it was a curse word I wasn’t allowed to say. “Right now? While we’re in the same room?”

“Harder. Oh yes, harder!” The shout from behind bed tent number two could not be misunderstood. Watson and his visitor were indeed bumping uglies.

I buried my face in Doug’s shirt. “Ohmygod.”

He lifted my chin. “What’s the big deal?”

“I...Fahrvergnugen.”
Fahrvergnugen?
I word-vomited a German automobile advertising slogan? My mind was a strange, strange place.

Doug’s mouth fell open, and he rubbed his eyebrow. “Hold up. Are you a
virgin
?” He said it like I was some sort of horrifying, mythical creature.

“It’s not a disease, Doug. So what?” I challenged him, feeling angry with him for the first time. A wave of shame hit me next. I dipped my chin and looked away. So much for him thinking I belonged in Tri-Gam.

He rubbed the side of his neck, full of agitation. “Are you one of those girls who’s waiting to get, like, a promise ring before you give up your V-card?”

I frowned. “No. But I’m certainly not having sex in a tent bed while someone else is in the room.” My voice rose in indignation before I could stop myself.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it!” Watson moaned from tent bed number two.

***

At eight o’clock the next morning, Julie walked into our room like she owned the place. Alexis covered her head with her pillow, and I groaned and hid under my covers.

“Rise and shine, my pretties. We have business to attend to.” Julie yanked the covers off of me and pulled the pillow away from Alexis. Placing both of our laptops next to us, she pushed Alexis over and got comfortable as she opened her own.

We had agreed to check house results together. I thought we’d do that at a reasonable time. However, Julie had a different plan. After entering our personal passcodes, we waited and whatever sleep still lingered in me, flew out the window. Anticipation buzzed through my body.

Julie screamed and bounced on the bed. “All three of my favorites are still here.” She stood up and did a little dance. “I only got cut by two houses, but who cares? I think one was the place where I accidentally let it slip that their furniture reminded me of my Nana’s. The other was definitely the one that smelled like burnt toast. I couldn’t hack that smell twenty four/seven. Sometimes my brutal honesty hurts.” Julie flopped back down on my bed.

“I got my favorites too,” Alexis said, looking up from the screen. Her eyes danced with excitement. “It looks like I only got cut from one place. I’ll have to choose the other three to cut now.”

Julie leaned over to look at Alexis’ screen. “But you still have Tri-Gam too, right?”

Alexis nodded and looked at me. “Taren?”

“I didn’t get cut?” It came out like a question, and I pulled the laptop closer to me.

“You didn’t get cut by Tri-Gam?” Julie held up both hands, fingers crossed for luck, and Alexis clapped her hands together.

“I still have Tri-Gam. I didn’t get cut...by anyone. I guess they all liked me. How is that possible?”

Julie jumped up and down on Alexis’ bed. “I told you Taren Richards! You are hotter than Satan’s nut sack!”

I threw my pillow at her. “Did you really just compare me to the devil’s genitals?”

She laughed. “You gotta admit, that’s pretty hot, though. Right?”

I didn’t get cut by anyone. I sat back in my bed, staring at the computer screen. A sense of something new struck me. I was finally starting to believe I could be different. That it was my turn to belong.

Chapter Ten

ALEC

We were walking to Ratsies for calzones when I saw her again. The field in front of Memorial Chapel was filled with girls in sorority shirts, but my eyes were drawn to Taren like a heat-seeking missile. She was laughing and joking with a short, dark-haired girl, and I frowned. I’d forgotten how nice Taren’s smile was.

She’d smiled plenty during the time we worked on our debate project. When it was just the two of us, we never had any problem getting along. Guilt clenched my chest when I thought about that night at the bonfire. All I wanted to do was ignore how I’d been the one to cause that smile to disappear for the rest of senior year.

Forget the smile, Hart. Forget the girl.

I tried to look away, but found it impossible. My gaze was pulled back to Taren against my will and damn if it didn’t land on her skimpy skirt and the most perfect pair of legs I’d ever seen. The only way Taren’s legs could look any better was if they were wrapped around my waist.

Wait. What?

I ran my hand across my forehead and then raked my fingers back through my hair. I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. I needed to get laid. If I was thinking about Taren Richards that way, it’d been way too long.

“Over here!” Caz yelled, demanding my attention. He was running down the sidewalk, looking over his shoulder at me with his hand outstretched. I pulled my arm back and threw the football to him. He caught it, and I grinned when he shook his hand to release the sting of the catch.

“Hey look,” Caz said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and waiting for me to catch up. He pointed toward the crowd of girls. “It’s your damsel in distress. You didn’t tell me she was Greek.”

I grabbed the football out of his hand. “Yeah, well I didn’t know she was. In high school she was a geek.” I tossed the ball in the air, catching it with my other hand.

Caz braced his hands behind his head and looked over at me. “A geek?” He laughed. “And you wonder why she hates you.”

I didn’t wonder why. I knew why.
“The feeling’s mutual.”

“It didn’t look mutual when you were groping her after her near death experience.”

“I wasn’t groping her.”
Just...protecting her.

“If you say so.” Caz dropped his arms and shook his head, laughing. “So, tell me. How could you possibly hate a sweet little hottie like that?” His eyebrow was cocked in challenge.

I gripped the football between my palms, pressing my hands together until my muscles screamed in protest from the effort. “I thought we were going for calzones, not confessional.”

Caz held his hands up in an unspoken demand for me to throw the ball. “I’m just curious. You saved the girl’s life, and she was too pissed to even thank you. I want to know why.”

My arm snapped forward and the ball sailed into Caz’s outstretched hands. I shrugged. “Not much to tell. We were competing for the same scholarship at a debate competition. I needed it to get out from under my dad’s iron fist.” That scholarship had symbolized my freedom. “She won.”