Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
The power of being a Cobalt.
Just joining the frat isn’t exactly what I want though. I need the seniority perks, and they just want to say a Cobalt is a Kappa. We’d be using each other.
“You all are my first choice,” I say. “I really want to be a Kappa, but I need housing. And if you can’t guarantee me a room for the rest of the semester, then I’ll have to go to Lambda.”
“Boooo!” about four guys holler from the foosball table. “Lambda fucking losers.”
It feels like the whole fraternity is in the basement right now. Half are glued to a television as the Yankees fight to make the playoffs. The other half are playing foosball for cash and crushing Millers.
“You don’t want to be a Lambda, Ben,” Leif cautions. “They can’t even throw parties at their house anymore.”
Do I even want to ask? I lean back into the plaid cushion. “Why?”
“They hazed a pledge so bad, he ended up with a concussion.”
“I heard it was a coma!” a guy shouts.
“You weren’t even here then, Javi,” Leif retorts with a scrunched face. Looking back at me, he says, “Anyway, it got ugly. Lawsuits, threats of shutting down all the chapters, then they decided to just put some restrictions on Lambda Alpha Lambda.”
“I’m not really interested in the parties,” I admit, but now I’m wondering if Lambda will fucking haze me if I become their pledge. Of what I’ve heard, the worst thing Kappa Phi Delta has done is make their new members silly string a bronze Thrashers statue in the quad. While only in their underwear.
Tame and relatively harmless.
I’d rather not be waterboarded, pelted with beer cans, or worse, forced to eat meat. Still, I try to show I’m highly considering their rival frat so they’re more afraid to lose me.
Leif rubs his mouth, thinking. “Look, I can’t just give you a room. They’re all taken, and even if someone volunteers to bunk up with you, some of the guys will feel like it’s not fair. You’d already be getting special privileges by joining late.”
“I’m grateful for that,” I express, as a tabby rubs against my ankles. I bend over and scoop up the tiny kitten. She purrs and lets out a satisfactory meow as I nuzzle my knuckle near her ear. “But if there’s any possible way you’d all be okay with it, I’ll join today.”
Leif and Prescott share a look like they’re not ready to let this opportunity slip away. While they’re thinking it over, the kitten scratches at her head. I spread areas of her fur and check for fleas. I’ve done this a bunch whenever Jane would sneak home strays.
No fleas that I can see. I stroke her spine, and she rolls belly-up on my lap for more pets.
“What about the bet?” Prescott asks Leif, which jerks my gaze up to them. “See if he can get in on it.”
I stiffen, especially as he captures the attention of every frat brother in the basement. “Oh dude, the bet,” a curly-haired guy exclaims near the TV.
“Shit, if Ben Cobalt wins the bet, he can be my roommate all semester and the next,” another says.
“Or you can room with me,” Prescott offers.
“Bro will be a fucking legend.”
“No way would he win it. No one associated with Kappa has been able to step foot in the Honors House.”
Honors House? My brain pounds. “What’s the bet?” I ask Leif.
He bows closer, his grin spreading rapidly over his freckled, fair face. The excitement is contagious around the room, infecting everyone but me.
Apprehension threatens to bind my muscles. They’re all crowding closer as Leif tells me, “It’s a ten-year-old bet. First made by the Kappa brothers before us. You haven’t been at MVU long, but the Honors House is a co-ed society full of judgy little pricks.”
“Neeeerds,” someone heckles, followed by laughter.
Yeah, I’m sure the Honors House would call them meatheads right back. It’s typical stereotyping. Not shocked, not surprised, but I’m stuck on the fact that one of Harriet’s goals is to be accepted into the Honors House. She’s already sent in her application and taken the entry exam, which she said was easy.
“What does the bet have to do with them?” I ask.
“They’ve refused to let anyone in a frat go inside their building,” Leif says. “It’s literally the nicest house on campus.”
“Fucking ridiculous,” a guy grumbles.
“It’s not like we bar them from our parties,” Prescott explains to me. “Everyone is welcome here.”
I saw that firsthand the week before the semester began. Where the house party was open to all. It’d also been where Harriet was almost thrown into the pool. A Kappa hadn’t been the one about to toss her in, but I’m aware none of them tried to stop it from happening.
“So what’s the bet? First Kappa to spend a night in their building wins?” I guess.