Brandon Benson said, opening his eyes wide as he took a sip of his iced tea. “Chad’s kind of worried about you. And so are we.” I stopped, a forkful of cucumber halfway to my mouth, stunned. I couldn’t have heard that right, could I? It was completely out of left field. One minute we were talking about the new pledge class and which ones we might want for little brothers. And then WHAM! A shot right between the eyes—and a cheap shot, at that, given who it was coming from. “No, I’m not,” I replied, putting my fork back down. “Why would you say that?” Yes, pot, I am black ran through my head as I sat there staring at him. I looked from him to Rees, who just gave me a little helpless shrug and a rueful smile, as though to say, This wasn’t my idea, sorry. We were sitting in the food court in the Student Union. It was crowded, and the noise level made it hard to hear. I’d run into them as I was heading home from my last class. They’d invited me to join them for lunch in the Union, and it was time for my next meal.
What do You think about Games Frat Boys Play (2011)?
