Page 154 of Whistle

Currently, the president of Psi Zeta was front and center and grinning like a pig in shit as the bids rose higher and higher.

“Two thousand,” Dean Cardinal called. “Do we hear twenty-five hundred?”

A paddle must have been raised somewhere in the back because the dean smiled and pointed. “Twenty-five!”

“Three thousand!” someone called from the back, and the guy on stage cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a hoot.

“Three thousand, going once…”

Frat bro raised his arms like he was trying to get someone to bid higher.

“Three thousand, going twice…” Dean Cardinal went on. “Sold! To the lovely lady in the black dress.”

Clapping and a few cheers rang out.

“I’d like to offer a heartfelt thank-you to Psi Zeta for participating in this year’s auction. Your commitment to Westbrook is duly noted.”

The sound of a buzzing phone had me looking down, and Rush lit up the screen in his lap and smirked.

I couldn’t make out all the text bubbles, but I did see the words group chat. I averted my eyes immediately because it was rude to snoop on someone else’s message. It wasn’t at all that knowing they all had a group chat I wasn’t part of cast a dent in the armor I always wore.

“Next up, we have not one, not two, not even three of our esteemed Elite here this evening but five.”

Raucous applause and cheers erupted. A few catcalls and whistles joined the chaos, and the dean smiled like a cat with a canary. When he finally lifted his hand, the noise dropped to a low hum, and he leaned into the microphone again.

“Although, I must inform you all that there is a correction to the program that you all have been given. It seems one of the men, Sean Vargas, is unable to attend.”

Boos filled the auditorium, and Dean Cardinal held up his hand. “However, Ryan Walsh will be stepping in to take his place.”

“Oh my god!” someone squealed, and chaos reigned. More squeals, clapping, and an overall loud hum of excited chatter filled the entire space.

Smiling, the dean spoke up again. “As you know, Walsh is the top freestyle swimmer here at Westbrook and is practically a permanent fixture in lane four.”

“He’s so hot,” someone yelled from the back.

“This college is full of horn-balls,” Rory announced just several seats down from me.

I leaned forward to see her perched in the green chair.

She was scowling darkly and had her arms crossed, but the effect was probably not what she hoped because she was so slight in weight that the chair was partially folded up on her, bringing her knees toward her chest.

Madison leaned over, patted her shoulder, and said something in her ear, and Rory smiled. She wiggled in her seat, pushing it down with her legs, but it only popped right back up again and she frowned. Beside her, Wes put his palm on the corner and pushed, using his weight to pin it in place.

“Hopefully, you all will show the same enthusiasm for Walsh as you would have Vargas.” Dean Cardinal continued.

“Bring him out!” a woman yelled from the back.

“Poor Rory,” Landry murmured on the other side of Rush.

“Poor Vargas,” Rush amended. “Bro could have gotten laid.”

“Jason,” Landry admonished. “These are PG dates.”

Rush snorted. “They just have to say that for legal purposes. We both know some of these dudes are getting laid later.”

My stomach twisted as I imagined someone bidding on Emmett in hopes of getting more than a friendly date.

Lowering his voice, Rush continued. “I mean, wasn’t that the whole point in getting Coach up there?”

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