“That’s one way of putting it,” I say. “I?—”
“Rivera,” a familiar aggressive voice interrupts.
I glance up to see a tall guy with short, bleached blond hair and light blue eyes. His ears are pierced in multiple spots, with a large gauge piercing in the lobes and smaller studs along the cartilage. His neck has a large tattoo in the shape of a wolf with its fangs bared.
He’s also wearing a thin tank top, showing off his large biceps even though the weather’s been cooling.
It’s Fenrir Winters, one of the members of Eta Epsilon Lambda—or Hell, as the rest of us call their fraternity.
Annoyance flickers through me. I’m not in the mood to deal with him and his beef with the whole of Kappa Alpha right now.
Fenrir seems to notice me, because his eyes narrow. “What’re you doing with one of the Chaos losers, Rivera?”
“Pledging,” River says, shrugging. He checks his phone. “It won’t stop me from being at practice on time.”
“Practice?” I ask, confused.
Fenrir ignores my question. “I told you to pledge with Eta Epsilon. I would have vouched for you.”
“I’m sure he’s flattered, but he has better taste than that,” I retort.
I have a feeling that it wouldn’t have mattered what River actually wanted. Pandora has a hard-on for Kappa Alpha for some reason, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she’d pushed him to pledge.
River glances at me. I can’t read his expression, which annoys me even more. “Yeah, I’ve dreamed of being a Chaos loser since I was a child,” he drawls.
“It’s Kappa—” I begin, only to cut myself off.
Fenrir places his hand on the table and leans in closer to River. “Chaos is where they send the soft boys. You’re better than that, Rivera.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s a scathing insult.”
River doesn’t bother to hide a snort. “My family always does Kappa Alpha,” he says.
He’s lying. If his family had a long history with Kappa Alpha, I’d know about it through Blaze.
Fenrir doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he turns to face me. “You. You’re Bouchard’s bitch boy. Get up.”
Anger makes my cheeks flush, and my hands ball into fists at my sides. “I’m no one’s bitch boy.”
Fenrir’s expression remains blank. “Sure you’re not. That’s why you’re leeching off him.”
I have to pause to take a deep breath. “I’m not leeching off of anyone.” I get up, and to my surprise, River does as well. “Don’t,” I tell him. “I can fight my own battles.”
As I stand, Fenrir backs up a few steps. He sets his backpack down on a chair and stretches his neck from side to side.
I know not to underestimate him. He’s one of Dyschord U’s top boxers—and if he’s been training with River, that means River boxes as well. I think Pandora mentioned something to that effect.
I take my blazer off and set it on my vacated chair. “What are you trying to prove, Fenrir?”
Fenrir shrugs. “Nothing. Just wanna beat up one of the Chaos losers who dragged Rivera into the mud.”
I roll my eyes. I don’tthinkI’m in for a real beatdown, but I have to admit it could be embarrassing if I lost this particular fight. Mixed martial arts is completely different from boxing, though, and it’s possible he’ll get the best of me.
We’ll see.
When I glance at him, I see that River is amused. “I feel like my honor is being fought over or some shit,” he remarks. “Oh, keep going. I’m invested in this now.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t feel like dealing with this bullshit right now, but I’m so pissed at being accused of being Blaze’s bitch boy — and being reminded that I’m essentially mooching off of him, whether I want to or not — that I can’t let it go without responding somehow.
