Does Blaze know they are?
I narrow my eyes at him, but I can’t imagine he’d okay an attack on the Kappa Alpha house. Why would he?
Asch comes out of the house, carrying a plate of food. He hands it to Blaze, and Blaze gives him a thumbs up.
“Don’t forget to tip him,” Zayden remarks.
I still don’t get why half the frat members are such dicks to Asch. Then again, for people like this, him being a scholarship student is enough reason to shun him. They should be following Blaze’s example, though, since he’s the real power in this fraternity.
I shake my head. “Zayden’s such a dick,” I say, keeping my voice low.
Blaze takes a bite of his food. It looks like a burger to me, so I don’t know why he didn’t just take it from the grill. Did he have Asch fix him something special instead of eating with the rest of us peons?
After he swallows, Blaze says, completely cheerfully, “Zayden, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I am going to find a real gun and do the job those masked assholes didn’t finish.”
I eye him, unable to tell whether he’s being serious or if he’s fucking around.
From the look on Zayden’s face, I don’t think he’s sure either.
“Regretting your choice of frats?” I ask Franklin.
Franklin shakes his head. “My dad was in Kappa Alpha. Andmost of the guys are cool. Peyton and I went on a double date with Sandra and Zoey—that’s his girlfriend. Or the girl he’s interested in. And Tate introduced me to his older brother, who works at Asteroid! He said I could apply for an internship next summer.”
“That’s great,” I tell him, and I mean it. I’m glad he’s fitting in. He may not be the typical Kappa Alpha brother, but good for them for having someone decent. My hands clench at my sides. It only pisses me off more that the attack was so indiscriminate.
One thing that bothers me is how familiar one of the guys felt. The laugh, the fighting style… I feel like I know who it is, but I can’t place it.
It wasn’t somebody from the boxing ring, I know that much. I would have recognized anyone I spar with, but none of the attackers had been boxers.
Brock and Tate walk over to us, holding out bottles of beer.
“You kicked ass, man,” Tate says to me. He mimes punching. “Like some fucking Bruce Lee shit.”
I don’t point out that Bruce Lee did karate, not boxing, as I take the beer.
I twist the cap off and take a long swig. I’m already feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges. I think this is the fourth bottle tonight? But we’re all a little drunk, as evidenced by the empty bottles and cans strewn near the cooler.
Brock nods eagerly. “And who knew little Franklin had such huge balls?” He ruffles Franklin’s hair and pushes the beer into his hands. “I thought for sure you’d piss yourself.”
I bristle, but Franklin seems elated to be included if the sight of his wide grin is any indication.
“He did a great job,” I agree. I don’t think he’s going to easily pick up on the boxing techniques I’ve spent years learning, but it’ll give us something to do.
Maybe I’ve made a friend here, one I don’t have to be suspicious of.
“We gotta celebrate!” Tate declares.
Celebrate? Even though we essentially got our asses kicked?
Tate pulls his vape out of his pocket and adds some sort of liquid to it. “You got the booze, but you need the smokes, too, my man!” He hands the vape to Franklin.
Franklin leans in and takes a sniff. “Uh, is there cinnamon in that? I can’t. I’m allergic.”
Brock starts laughing. “It’s not real cinnamon. They use fake flavors and shit.” He takes the mod and inhales from it before passing it back to Tate. “Don’t be a pussy, Franklin.”
Tate inhales from it too, then shoves it at Franklin again. “Come on. It’s safe. Vaping is like, less harmful than weed.”
“He said no,” I say. I reach out to grab it from Tate, but he evades me.
