“I write most of my articles on my phone at work. How many words does Salt want you to write?”
Thinking it over, she bites the inside of her cheek. “Five hundred, I think.”
“Piece of cake.” I wave off her concern. “You got this. If not, I can write it for you on my break.”
Eden has done so much to help me over the years. She even dated a stupid frat boy to help us get closer to the more newsworthy students on campus. I don’t mind stepping in when she needs me.
“How about we swap articles this week?”
Her face illuminates from the smile reaching up to her eyes. “Are you sure?”
My smile matches hers. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Eden lets out a sigh of relief, and I know why.
Her article is one of many fraternity hazing pieces our staff is working on. Every member of the paper contributes. It’s harder for Eden than the rest of us. During the pledging process, she was in the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity house for some craziness.
She saw things firsthand that no girl should have to witness. And now, we will turn this story on its head and spill all the juicy details to the world. But she’s afraid of the backlash, and I don’t blame her. We’re all nervous about what will happen once the truth is revealed. But they must hear the truth.
“Thanks, Sam.” Eden pats me on the shoulder as we stroll into Broad Street Beans. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Eden approaches the long counter and waves to our boss to signify we’re here. He acknowledges us with a quick nod and then continues writing on the clipboard.
“Do me a favor, though?”
“Anything,” she says without hesitation.
“Save me if the guy I’m meeting on Friday is an asshole.”
She looks over her shoulder at me and winks. “I got your back.”
Eden always has my back. She’s the only person on this planet who does.
Chapter 3
Tucker
The scent of coffee smacks me in the face when I walk into Broad Street Beans. Students dressed in Strickland University shirts occupy most of the tables. A few people are wearing shorts and sandals with socks. I analyze every person as I pass through the crowded space, searching for a girl wearing a green shirt.
Sam is not here.
By the window, a group of girls gather around a table too small to fit all of them. One notices me, and when she does, the rest of their heads snap in my direction. I give a quick wave and keep moving toward the back of the shop, where there’s an open table set further apart from the rest, right next to the restrooms.
I drop my bag to the floor and sit, hoping no one comes over to ask questions. Everyone on campus knows me or at least has heard of me. It’s hard not to gain unwanted attention when your dad is a famous hockey player. Because of that, no one can know I need a tutor. My academic history is one of the best-kept secrets on my team. And now, Sam could expose my secret.
Thirty minutes pass, and I flip through the social media apps on my cell phone. A sliver of hope passes through me when a girl in a green shirt steps into the café area with a tray. And that hope fades the second I realize she works here.
What should I do? Is she testing me to see if I’m worth her time? If that’s the case, I will sit here all damn day and night just to prove her wrong. I like a challenge.
I answer a text and comment on a few Facebook posts. Irritated about Sam blowing me off, I open the Strick Net app on my phone to send her a message. I was a dick toward the end of our conversation, but we had a deal. She should have been here by now.
PuckMe_69
I’m here.
You’re late.
Are we still on for today?
