Page 20 of Snitches and Serpents

From the outside, this must look like a very intimate moment between me and Elle. Which means that even though she almost revealed my secret nerd tendencies to my friends, I have at least managed to accomplish what I set out to do.

After this little display, she will no doubt be in deep shit with her new sorority.

7

ELLE

The tension in the room is so thick that I can practically feel it pressing against my body. It wraps around me like a wet blanket, suffocating me. I try to draw in deep breaths, but I can barely get the air all the way into my lungs.

“Look,” Brandi says as she heaves a sigh before fixing her disappointed stare on me. “We understand that settling into a new environment is sometimes challenging. But we do still have rules that need to be followed.”

The pressure around my ribcage intensifies. I try to ignore the fact that everyone is watching me, but it’s impossible when I’m hyperaware of how they are all studying every expression on my face. I put everything I have into keeping a remorseful mask on my features. But what I really want to do is to shove open the nearest window and vomit into the bushes.

After Tristan’s stunts, both this morning and at lunch, I expected a lecture from my sorority sisters. What I didn’t expect, however, was that we would have a full-on house meeting about it.

Every available surface is occupied. The white couch underneath the living room windows. The two gray armchairs on each side of it. All of the chairs around the pale wooden dining room table. Each seat is taken. The only people still standing are me and Brandi. I try not to fidget as I stand there next to the white bookshelf while everyone watches me.

Brandi, who is standing on the plush gray carpet by the coffee table, crosses her arms over her chest and levels an exasperated look on me. Then she sighs again.

“Like I said this morning,” she begins. “We don’t allow boys inside or outside the house, because we want this to be a safe space. And we also eat lunch together as a way to foster community and deepen connections across different years and programs. And yet, you decided to ignore both of those rules to instead spend time with Tristan Kane.”

“That’s not what happened,” I reply, glancing around desperately. “I promise.”

They all just look back at me in silence. From the couch, Mei gives me a sympathetic smile, as if she wants to believe me but can’t really see how it could be true.

“Look, we get it,” Brandi says. Uncrossing her arms, she draws her fingers through her long blonde hair and then flicks her wrist in a frustrated manner. “Tristan Kane is hot.”

“As fuck,” Nora adds under her breath with an enthusiastic nod.

Surprise flickers through me at the number of people who also nod in agreement. I’m still trying to reconcile the nerd version of Tristan from high school with this new gangster version of him, but these girls have only ever seen the gangster version. The version with hard muscles, breathtaking tattoos, and a dark air of power that pulses around his lethal body. And I supposed that that, combined with his already objectively handsome face, does indeed make him hot as fuck.

Brandi shoots Nora a sharp look at the crude language.

Cringing, she whispers, “Sorry.”

After another exasperated breath, Brandi clears her throat and turns back to me. “Anyway. As I was saying, we get it. Tristan is hot. Anyone with eyes can see that. But he is not someone you should want to be associated with. As you know, he is a member of the White Serpents. And none of us want our sorority to be connected in any way to those criminals.”

“I know,” I reply, trying hard not to squirm underneath the weight of all their gazes. “I don’t want to be associated with them either. I didn’t ask him to come over this morning and I didn’t invite him to sit at our table at lunch.”

Brandi gives me a skeptical look. “Then why would he do that on his own?”

Nausea rolls through me, and I once more have to suppress the urge to shove open a window. Forcing in a long breath, I try to get my panic under control. Everyone is still watching me. I can feel their judging stares burning holes in my skin. God, what are they going to think of me after this? It’s going to take months to rebuild their trust and restore my image.

“Because, well…” I gesture helplessly. “Tristan and I have… history.”

Several pairs of eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Not that kind of history,” I quickly add while waving my hands. “We went to the same high school and… he’s angry about something I did back then.”

The surprise that flitted across their faces when they thought that Tristan and I used to date is replaced by wariness as soon as the words have left my mouth.

“He’s angry with you?” Brandi asks.

Swallowing, I nod. “Yes.”

“How angry?”

“Uhm…” My gaze darts around the room, but no one steps in to help. I shift my attention back to Brandi. “Very.”

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