Brad’s telling Aaron about us tonight, and I’m telling Jesse. We can’t keep this secret from them anymore. What we’ve been doing behind their backs has been wrong. When the truth comes out, Jesse will be pissed. I only hope we can find a way to repair our friendship.
Jesse is wide-eyed as we drink Jell-O shots together on the back porch of the Alpha Theta Mu house. On the other side of the party, Brad sets up a makeshift bar on a card table with some of the brothers. We’ve agreed to meet up after we’ve talked to our respective friends.
I’m definitely waiting until I get a few drinks in Jesse before I say anything.
“Hey, Jesse,” Alex says as he steps out the back door, carrying a keg. “Give us a hand?”
As Jesse hurries to his big brother’s aid, through the crowd of brothers and Gamma Theta sisters, I spy Roger a few yards away, slouched in a couch that I helped some of the other pledges set up in the yard earlier today. In a navy polo and a backwards Alpha Theta Mu cap, he takes a hit from a bong. I’ve only seen him a few times at meetings and parties. He doesn’t live at the main Alpha Theta Mu house, so he’s less visible than some of the other brothers. Considering every fraternity event he’s missed, I imagine he’s accrued a substantial amount in fines, but I doubt the fraternity will complain when his hedge fund manager father is eager to pay them off on his son’s behalf.
Since I heard Brad’s version of the night Keegan died, I’ve been curious to talk to him. If they were hooking up, then he must be suspicious about what happened that night. I feel bad for the guy. One day he was fucking Keegan, who he could have liked as more than a trick. And the next day, Keegan was dead.
I sit beside him on the couch. He turns to me, his red irises sparkling. I consider bailing, but I’m too curious to walk away.
“Newbie?” he asks, scanning me over with obvious interest.
“Yeah.”
He offers me a hit, which I accept. Then he reclines back, spreading his legs, his dick hard as a rock in his cargo shorts.
He squints. “Aren’t you Aaron’s boy?” he asks.
“I’ve been hooking up with him, if that’s what you mean.”
He pulls his legs back together. “Then fuck off.”
“You always so uninterested in guys who are hooking up with your brothers?”
“I don’t do the incest thing.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.”
His face flushes. He glances either way, as though he’s determining whether or not anyone else heard me. He stands and starts off, muttering, “Follow me, kid.”
I’m worried about following some stoner, but considering his reaction to my statement, I’m too curious not to. He leads me to a bathroom in the house. Once I’m inside, he shuts the door behind me, grips my throat, and shoves me back against the wall.
“Is Aaron talking shit about what happened between me and Keegan?” he asks. He squeezes my throat, constricting my breath.
I can’t tell if the red in his eyes is from the high or his rage.
“Aaron?” I ask as he loosens his grip.
What the fuck does Aaron have to do with this? Does Roger know that Aaron helped Brad cover up Keegan’s death?
“Should have fucking known he’d blab to whatever newbie. You don’t say shit to anyone about what happened between us. You got that?”
“Wait. He just told me that you and Brad were fucking around with Keegan.”
I hope my lie will elicit some more intel.
“Oh really? Trying to make it all about us? He got his piece of ass too, so if he’s trying to pin shit on anyone, he was doing just as much as the rest of us. What has he told you about that night?”
“Nothing.”
He squeezes my throat again. If Keegan liked to be choked, Roger was the guy to choke him.
“Bullshit. He obviously told you something.”
A knock at the door.
“Blow me!” Roger shouts, then returns his attention to me, his eyes filled with suspicion: “Did Aaron show you the letter?”
I shake my head. He releases my throat and rubs his hands across his face. “Shit. I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. Just pretend I haven’t said anything. I don’t want any part of this. That kid did all this to himself.”
“Did he deserve to die because of what he did?” I ask.
His eyes water, but I can’t tell if it’s from how high he is or from talking about Keegan.
“No, he didn’t. I loved that fucking asshole!” Now I know why he’s crying. “But after Aaron told me that shit about what he was doing behind my back—with Brad, with him—I just couldn’t. What he did cut me like a knife. I told him to fuck off, but I was going to take him back. He must have known that. We weren’t exclusive. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but then the dumbass went and—”
Another knock.
He turns to the door and slams his fist against it repeatedly, the curly locks draping down his forehead shaking with each blow. “Do you have a death wish?”
The guy on the other side of the door curses.
Roger whispers to himself, “How the fuck did I know what Keegan was going to do? That he was going to lose his shit like that?”
I still can’t make sense of what he’s talking about, but I’m afraid to press because I feel one misstep and he’ll catch on to how little I really know, which is just that Aaron seems suspiciously involved in Brad’s and Roger’s accounts of that night. Makes me wonder if he played a greater role in this than either are aware.
“You didn’t mention anything to the police about this?” I ask.
“What? Oh, yeah, so it could get back to my parents that I’m a faggot? My uncle works at the Atlanta Police Department, and he’s one of the biggest homophobes in the world. Hell, Aaron hiding Keegan’s letter saved my fucking reputation. Not all of us can be Aaron Morgans or Brad Raegers. Some of us have families that are still trapped in the dark ages with books that say we should be stoned.”
“Hey!” a slurred voice calls from the other side of the door. “When the fuck are you going to be done in there?”
The guy’s words pull Roger’s attention from me. He glances around uneasily, as if he realizes he’s said too much. He darts out of the bathroom, leaving me reeling in a sea of questions.
Not much of what he said makes sense, but I have an idea of where I can find some answers.
****
I raid Aaron’s room. I’m familiar with all the little hiding places he uses for his toys and lube. He’s been running around all night for the mixer, so he’s too busy to come in here. Since Roger was worried that Aaron had shown me a letter, I know what I’m looking for. After some searching, I notice Aaron’s fraternity bible on his desk. I have my own copy from Tad. It contains the history and bylaws of the fraternity. All the pledges have to borrow one, study up on it, and endure pop quizzes until initiation. It would be the perfect hiding place for a letter. I riffle through it until I notice a sheet of loose-leaf notebook paper.
Roger,
When I approached you today, I wasn’t expecting rejection. Since we met during rush, and I approached you and asked if you could help me find a can to throw up in, I knew by the look in your eyes that there was something there. A connection. Something that I can’t believe was just us. It was like some otherworldly force had brought us together. Orchestrated every life circumstance that I’d ever experienced so that I could have that moment with you. I can’t say I’m innocent of shit, but neither can you. And I’ve never felt for anyone else the way I’ve felt for you, you stupid shit.
Every day that we talked, every day that we did anything, meant so much to me. I loved waiting for you to curl up with me when you were high because you’re always more affectionate like that. And I always wanted you to hold me a little closer. Kiss me a little softer. Don’t get me wrong. I like the other stuff just fine, but those tender moments always made me know in the rougher ones that you really did care about me.
At least, that’s what I thought. I can’t live knowing that you hate me. Knowing that you don’t want to be with me. I don’t know what’s fucked up in my head that I misread us. That I thought you cared for me the way I care for you, but I can’t bear it. I can’t deal with the pain anymore. It’s always hurt. The world’s always felt like shit, but I thought at least with you that burning pain in my chest wouldn’t feel so bad. But if I can’t have this, then I don’t have anything. When Aaron gives you this note, I’ll be gone, but I hope that, even if you didn’t love me, you at least know that I love you. Everything about you. Totally and completely, and each night we shared, I imagined a future with you. I’m just sorry that I was so disappointing that you couldn’t do the same to me.
Yours forever,
Keegan
My eyes water a little. It’s tragic thinking this guy cared so much about Roger, who so clearly cared about him too.
What really happened that night? Did Keegan refuse to use the safety signal so that Brad would accidentally kill him? And why didn’t Aaron tell Brad about the letter? Was he protecting Roger from being outed by it? Or were their darker motives behind his involvement? He was fucking Keegan too, after all. Something Brad didn’t know. Or at least, didn’t tell me he knew.
Whatever the reason, I need to get this letter to Brad. And he, Roger, and Aaron need to have it out until they figure out what really went down that night.
I head down the hall to Aaron’s room. It’s the last place I can think to look for Ian. I was supposed to keep tabs on him, and had Alex not asked me to help him and some of the other brothers with the kegs they brought, I would have done a good job.
Aaron gave me this drink to give him. Said he roofied it. When Ian passes out, we’ll take him somewhere and make it look like he’s fucking another guy—one that Aaron will be bribing shortly.
I carry two shot glasses. One for me, and one for Ian.
Since I talked to Aaron, Brad’s avoided meeting up with me, and now I know it’s because he’s got the hots for Ian.
I don’t want to do this to my friend, but I feel that I have to just to get him back for how wrong he’s done me.
The door to Aaron’s room opens and Ian steps out, a concerned look on his face. He tucks a sheet of paper into his back pocket and turns to me.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I ask.
“Hey, man. I just have something I have to take care of real quick.”
As he tries to pass me, I step in front of him.
“Ian, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
I want him to be honest. To tell me what’s been going on. If he does, I’ll toss this shot and tell Aaron I can’t go through with it.
“Ian, there’s been something going on for a while. You don’t act like yourself anymore. We’ve hardly talked since we pledged. Why don’t you talk to me?”
“There is something I have to talk to you about, but can I just have a minute?”
“Why are you being like this?”
“I just need to—”
He tries to pass me, but I block him again.
“Ian—”
“Jesse, I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, but I just don’t. I need to find Brad.”
Aaron was right. Why does he need a friend when he’s with the hottest guy in Alpha Theta Mu? My fury consumes me.
“I just wanted to do a shot with you,” I say. “One shot and then you can go do whatever...”
...or whoever.
He sighs and takes the shot from me. He’s about to drink it when I clink my plastic shot glass against his.
“To us,” I say before we down them together.
He’s not the Ian I was friends with when we first came here. He’s changed. He deserves our little prank. I doubt it’ll be as effective as Aaron suggests, but even if it just makes Brad and Ian pissed at each other for the night, that’s good enough for me.
Ian starts down the stairs, and I meander after him because Aaron assured me he won’t make it very far.