Schooling the Jock (Nerds Vs Jocks #1) - - Eli Easton Page 0,2
season’s over, and date night’s sacred.”
I shrugged and stared at the sneakers I’d managed to rummage from under my bed before I ran out the door. “Got an exam.”
He barked a laugh. “One of these days, Mr. Running Back, we’ll hook you up with a female so fine you’ll turn in your texts for sexts.”
“Could happen.” I smiled. But not in this life.
“We’ve got to get you out of your ivory tower somehow, my man.”
I just shrugged. Not much I could say. Tray was my friend. I loved the guy, but no one, even him, had ever gotten me to tell the truth.
He shook his head, but it was friendly. “Come on.” He pushed through the masses of coughing people and trip-hazard hoses to Rand, the president and all-around phenom of the human kind. Rand was so perfect he made me antsy. I liked and respected him. Hell, he was the only ALA who’d ever had the nerve to come out as gay, and he was still so admired, the chapter put him in charge. Maybe I just couldn’t stand the comparison. Tray, however, saw everyone as his equal. One of the best qualities in a friend.
“Rand, what the fuck up?”
“Not sure yet, but I’m getting a damned clue.” He spoke from the corner of his mouth and never took his eyes off the SMT house across the street. Like all the other frat houses on the block, their guys were out on the lawn staring at the chaos that was ALA. I’d never tell my brothers, but some of those dudes were seriously cute.
I crossed my sneakered feet.
But then I’d never tell my brothers I thought any dude was cute.
Tray thrust his chin toward Rand. “Share.”
Rand turned and lowered his voice. “JC and Rex say they saw a couple of the Poins sneaking out from behind our house like forty-five minutes ago.”
The Poins were what we called the frat bros at Sigma Mu Tau. Short for Poindexters, aka nerds.
The words shot out of my mouth. “The Poins set fire to our fucking house?” I bit my tongue because Rand really looked at me, and that made me want to go back to the holly bush. But damn, ratfucking with practical jokes was one thing. Burning down a frat house—my frat house—was way beyond. Just the thought made me breathe hard, and I had to suck air in through my nose. Hell, the cost of living in the frat house was doable for me—barely. If I had to move? I shied away from the thought.
Rand said, “I don’t know. But if they did it, Dean Robberts is going to eat their balls for breakfast.” He grinned evilly. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Tray chuckled.
All three of us stared across the street. The SMT president, Jax, stared back. He was kind of a hipster with a beard and wool beanie permanently attached to his head. Rand hated his guts. Next to him was that skinny guy, Dobbs, who was so obnoxious there should be a restraining order on his mouth. Our rivalry with the SMTs was tradition and kept the ALAs on their toes. But when it came down to it, I had way bigger things in my life to worry about than those douchebags. If the rivalry fucked with my house and my scholarship, then, hell yeah, the SMTs and I had a significant problem.
Chapter Two
Dobbs
“An estimated ten thousand in damages to the Alpha Lambda Alpha kitchen, seven students with concerning levels of smoke inhalation, and city emergency services burdened by an all-out response to this nonsense. I’m at the end of my rope with you men. Absolutely at the end of my rope!”
My brain summoned up an image of Dean Robberts, dangling from a rope on a mountain ala Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible 2. Which was pretty funny since he had to be around seventy.
Dean Robberts had a head that was abnormally large for his small body and boasted a mane of grizzled gray hair. His eyebrows sprouted so wildly they made me itch for a pair of grooming clippers. They ran riot above sharp blue eyes and a beak of a nose. He sat behind his desk, face red with anger.
“We’re really sorry. And we’ll pay for the kitchen,” Jax said tightly.
I knew how much that hurt him. Jax was very responsible when it came to the house funds. He’d probably make us do car washes for a year or something to raise money for it.