Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(13)

Yeah. And so were my brother and dad. Without Kappa, my father wouldn’t be where he is today. And if Boone wants to get into a good business school, there’s probably no better way than to use Kappa connections.

Fuck it. It’s been a long night and I still haven’t slept.

I trudge up the stairs, concrete on my chest. I should have stayed home last night and crammed. I planned to. The angel on my shoulder said it was the right thing to do because my scores from this summer were dismal. But the devil on the other shoulder decided to take a break and have a beer, maybe find a hook-up. Next thing you know, I’m your friendly neighborhood dude saving damsels from drunken embarrassment, thieves, and mobsters.

My stomach swirls. This is my last chance to salvage those hopes of going to law school.

Which is what I want.

I think.

I used to want to fulfill that family dream, but the closer it gets, the more I want to punch a wall.

After we won the championship and Z went pro, I floated the idea of pursuing the NHL to my dad.

Don’t be stupid, he said. You have the potential to make the kind of green Wayne Gretzky would shit on a Canadian flag for.

My hands clench. Whatever. I was passed over for three years in the hockey draft.

It’s not even an option.

At the top of the steps, I find Lucifer, the house ferret, a freaky thing Reece bought this summer because he thought Hockey House needed a mascot. He said it was just like a cat. It would use a litter box and catch mice.

I’m convinced he mostly shits in Boone’s room.

“I don’t have any food for you,” I mumble, wondering why the animal has taken a liking to me. It’s usually curled up with its furry tail in front of my door. I haven’t been nice to it since the day it made me do a nut-plant over the railing when I was moving in boxes.

The thing just stares at me, head tilted.

“Go on!” I motion it away.

Not even a twitch from the thing.

Stepping over it, I open my door.

It slips in with me.

Fucker.

“A cat would eat you in one bite!” I yell as it disappears under my bed.

My LSAT prep books are sitting on my night table, uncracked. I stare at them, then collapse onto my mattress and stare at the ceiling, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands.

Then I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring.

I study it, then turn on my bedside lamp and hold it underneath. My eyes are bleary from lack of sleep, but I can make out the inscription: NL + LL Forever.

L for Lauren, Julia’s last name? Who does the ring belong to?

Holding it in my fist, I close my eyes and see the fear on her heart-shaped face as we ran from the scene. Her whiskey-colored eyes glittered with unshed tears, her bee-stung lips tight and compressed.

I flip over and beat my pillow.

Focus.

You need to ace this test.

Go to law school.

Be like your brother Kurt.

The one who isn’t here to carry on the family name anymore.





5





Julia





I open my eyes and realize I’m leaning against my headboard. My neck is bent at an unnatural angle with my cheek resting on my shoulder. I rub it to soothe the tension there, but it isn’t the only muscle that hurts. My knees are scabbed and my leg muscles are sore. Even my spine aches. That’s what I get for going to the alley with Scott, chasing a guy in the park, then running like hell from Connor.

Poppy, my roommate, calls through the door, “Julia? You in there?”

“Yeah!” I crawl out of bed and grab an olive green tank top and slip on some denim shorts.

“Hurray!” she calls, too cheery for morning, but that’s Poppy. A quick glance at my phone tells me it’s eight.

I stagger in my bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror as the night before plays through my head.

The ring. I need to pawn it today.

I grimace then wash my face and brush my teeth.

After I pawn it, I’ll need to go back to the laundromat and beg Connor to forgive Eric.

I reach into my pocket from last night and my stomach drops. The ring! I remember holding it out to Connor—then Eric showed up. Shit, shit, shit. I’ve lost it.

“Julia? You going to be long? You have a visitor.”

A visitor? I push down the despair of losing the ring and take a deep breath.

“You could have started with that,” I say with a grin as I open the door. I take in her ladybug pjs and fuzzy slippers. I’m surprised she isn’t wearing her pearls. “You look adorable. Who is it?”

“I wouldn’t have let him in, but my dad said he was sending someone to install the HVAC. I assumed it was him and opened the door. Oh, it’s Eric. I put him in that little foyer room. So, he’s in the house, but not technically.”

I groan. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I did. Just now. Eric Hansen is here. Hockey player. Hottie. Whatever. Catch up.” She smiles, and with Poppy, it’s endearingly kind.

I’ve only known Poppy and Taylor for a year. They were really Sugar’s friends and sort of adopted me.

I sigh. “Great. Thanks.”

She tucks a piece of her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear. “Want me to stall him? I could say you’re still sleeping?”