Unconventional Page 3

  “Well, semi adjust it, right?” Chance took off his coat then helped me out of mine. I could certainly have taken Maven’s coat off myself, but he beat me to it. I was still staring at the scene in front of me. I never would have thought this house would be so nice. It had a huge central opening that led to two very long staircases. One that went upstairs and one that led to a basement beneath us. It was an open floor plan so I could see the kitchen to the right and a dining area with a lot of tables and chairs set up for eating to the left.

  The carpet was gray, and although I would say that the outside of the house needed a coat of paint—I’d thought it on more than one occasion when I’d walked by, some of the white paint was peeling—the inside was well kept. At least as far as I could see.

  “So, you’re sure you’re not hungry?” Chance asked for the third time.

  I shook my head. “No, thank you. Did you say you had the pledges baking? Do they just do whatever you tell them to do?”

  “They do.” He winked at me. “If they want to be a brother here. Well, I’m hungry. I want a cookie.”

  He passed by me to the kitchen. I still had a question so I addressed it to Maven. “And this extends so far that they are all here with you instead of with their families over the holidays?”

  “They got to go home for a bit and had to come back. The punishment was meant to hurt. But they got us in trouble, and they know they’re not supposed to do that.”

  Maven nodded toward the kitchen, and I followed him there. “Sorry to press, but what if their families objected?”

  “A huge number of them are alumni. They won’t object. They want their sons here with me, becoming brothers of this house. The ones who aren’t have to be educated about how this goes. It’s one year of their life. I didn’t miss Christmas my freshman year, but I didn’t run undergarments up a flagpole in front of the Dean. Actions have consequences. I’m here, too. I’ve been here, and I let them go home for a bit. They’re spending Christmas at a food kitchen later today. Not because the school wants that, but because I want them to.”

  Chance swallowed his cookie, offered me one, which I declined with a shake of my head, and spoke again. “Some of this is about taking kids who have just come out of high school and helping to shape them into men. We’re not perfect. We make a lot of mistakes. I am hugely flawed. But as brothers in this house, we walk respectable lines. That’s how it goes.”

  “Oh.” I must have been tired because I didn’t think about what I said before I uttered my next words. “Outside of this house, what people say is that SPiI has the hot guys.” I covered my mouth. “It’s late. I apologize.”

  Maven grinned at me, slowly. “Is that so, Giovanna? We have that rep?”

  “I…” I shook my head. There was no way to make that better. “Like you haven’t heard that yourself.”

  Chance winked at me. “He has. And thanks. We’ll take it. But that’s just a matter of genes. We don’t actually choose our brothers during rush week based on how they look. GPA in high school. Extracurricular. Whether or not they’re legacies. Their interest in the house. Guess we just lucked out that the ladies like us, too.”

  Banyan hurried back into the room. “Heard some of that. Chance has no shortage of confidence. Come on. I did a cursory look through the rooms. Maven’s is the cleanest. You can sleep in there.”

  “Oh.” My hand went to my throat. “I can’t do that.”

  Maven took one of the cookies. “You can. I’ll sleep elsewhere.”

  “That’s not what I was worried about.” I actually wouldn’t mind Maven sleeping in there with me. Or not sleeping as the case might be. These guys were seriously hot. But that didn’t mean I was going to actually do it. This was a small campus. And academia was a small community. I couldn’t let my parents’ colleagues ever hear a bad rumor about me. One and a half more years and I’d be on my own, sort of. Unless I followed the plan to go to graduate school…

  “Then what were you worried about? I even changed the sheets this morning.”

  Banyan grinned. “He thinks to do those things. I never do. I’d really have to clean before you got in my room.”

  “Paint everywhere. He redoes the walls constantly,” Chance added.

  “I don’t want to put you out of your room.”

  Maven held my eye contact for a second. “It won’t be a problem.” He nodded toward the hall. “Come on. You should get some rest.”

  “I don’t know if I can sleep.” Still, I followed him. The more I knew Maven, the harder it was to tell him no. I’d resisted on the street earlier. Now, however, it was like he assumed authority and so I was sort of giving it to him. I could stop. Except right at this moment, I really didn’t want to.

  Right before I got to the stairs, Chance called to me. “Goodnight, Giovanna. We’re going to keep an ear toward what’s happening at your dorm. When you wake up, we’ll know something.”

  Banyan nodded. “And we love breakfast. So, you’ll get some of that, too. Night, beautiful.”

  “Um, goodnight and thank you.” Breakfast? Didn’t they say they were up all night? Maybe that was their last meal of the day? How did they get to class?

  Maven’s room was in the center of the hallway upstairs. I knew this place was huge, but I hadn’t realized just how big. There was another staircase at the end of the hallway leading to a third floor. Who got to live up there?

  Maybe it was just attic space. Maven had dressed his bed in black sheets and a black comforter. His walls had a variety of printed artwork, framed, around the room. He had a desk, which was neat with folders stacked all around, and his closet door was closed. Banyan hadn’t been wrong. Maven was neat. Much more so than I was.

  “You really don’t have to do this. I could sit and wait at one of the tables.”

  “No way, library. You need to sleep off that adrenaline. Or cry maybe. You were trying not to in the car. You can do that alone.”

  I swallowed. “How did you know that?”

  “I’m good at reading people. So, toothbrush at the top of my dresser.” I hadn’t noticed the dresser, took me a second to realize it was the back of the desk. That was sort of an ingenious use of space. “Grab one of my t-shirts from the closet. Sleep. Or don’t. But we’ll leave you alone.” His phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his pants. “None of the others wanted to come. They all went to other places. Ridge is coming back. Good of you to think of them, though. What do you need? What can I get you?”

  One of the pictures on the walls caught my attention. “I have this print, too. John Abdul. I love his work.”

  Maven moved until he stood next to me. He smelled like soap. “You do? Yes, I like old bookstores. They’re few and far between these days. They always have things like that, in addition to cool books. I looked up the print. He’s apparently really famous in the new wave of American folk art.”

  The lines of the man playing guitar on the fence coincided with the bars of the prison behind him. “He is. I’ve met him. A few times.”

  He was nice to me. That was something I didn’t forget easily.

  “You have?” Maven side-eyed me. “When?”

  “He teaches at Harvard. Sometimes. Takes the job when he’s run through his savings. He’s not good with money but whatever. He’s a genius, and the university never turns down a few classes from him.”

  Maven turned to face me entirely. “You spent time at Harvard?”

  “My parents are professors there. I mean, right now they’re in India. Trying to reach a tribe that refuses contact with the outside world. They might get killed by poison darts. It’s a real thing. Look it up.”

  He held up his hands. “I didn’t doubt you.”

  “Every once in a while, I get accused of making that up.” I had to stop being so defensive.

  Maven took my hand in his and rubbed the center of my palm. “Bet you’ve had a really interesting life. I’d like to hear your stories. Tomorrow.”

  “My parents have had
a lot of important discoveries. I used to kind of come along.” I should pull my hand out of his. I was really letting these guys touch me, which was unusual. I was big on personal space. The thing was… I liked it. “What do your parents do?”

  Maven nodded and looked away before regaining my eye contact in what I could only call a hard stare. “My father sold illegal junk bonds before he went to jail. He’s doing the last of a five year stint right now in a federal prison. My mother is a prosecutor in New York City, so it was a minor scandal for a while. She didn’t know. She’s held to that statement the whole time, and sometimes I believe her. Good news is that her family is loaded, so nothing much had to change in our lives despite the old man’s nefarious behavior and life behind bars.”

  He had just given me a ton of information, and I should be overwhelmed by it. It took a long time, usually, to get that kind of personal story from someone. It almost seemed like Maven was challenging me. Would I look away? Would I be horrified? Judgmental? Beneath his hard gaze, there was something else. Pain. He hid it well beneath the take me or leave me attitude, but boy oh boy, it was there.

  “That had to be a lot to deal with while you were applying to college.”

  Maven blinked a few times before he smiled at me. “Made for a great personal statement for my essay.”

  “I’m sorry your parents so royally screwed up. Mine sort of forget I’m around sometimes or that I might need anything beyond basic necessities. Like conversation.” I smiled at him. “You seem really nice, Maven. Are you? Or is this some sort of be kind to the library girl for a couple days while you’re bored?”

  He whispered his response. “I’m really nice. But I don’t think a lot of people know that, so don’t tell. I’m confessing all my secrets to you. Giovanna. I can’t call you library now that you said it. I like your name too much anyway. What is it about you? I’ve thought about you a ridiculous amount for not knowing who you were, and since I met you, I’ve had you on the edge of my mind. Now here you are. Girls don’t sleep in my bed. Ever. I never have them up here.”

  “Oh.” I dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. Banyan pushed you into this, didn’t he? I mean it. I’ll go downstairs and…”

  His mouth met mine, not hard but not soft either. Just the right amount of pressure. I closed my eyes and let him. Maven didn’t ask for more. He didn’t even pull me against him. My body came alive. Buzzing with desire. I was shy in a lot of ways but not sexually. I wanted it. I loved it. I wanted him. Still, I stayed where I was.

  Maven stroked one finger down the side of my cheek before he stopped kissing me. Still close to my mouth, he spoke. “Goodnight, Giovanna. Get some sleep. Merry Christmas.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “We never asked you. Do you celebrate Christmas?”

  “Sort of. My father’s family is Jewish. Mom’s was Catholic. But they’re both sort of agnostic and interested in the history behind the religion rather than the practice itself, except as an intellectual thing.” I couldn’t believe I was still practically embracing him and talking about the strange ways my family behaved. “It’s really just an excuse to eat turkey in my house. How about you?”

  He didn’t answer for a minute. “In our house, it’s an excuse to yell at each other. And go out to eat before returning home to do it again. Never my favorite time. Since Dad went away, we drop the pretense. I spent last year with Banyan and Chance on Chance’s dad’s boat in the Caribbean drinking beer. Love that you’re here. I really do. Going to back off now.” Maven stepped back. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I stood there for a minute after he closed the door, leaving me alone, before I turned back to the Abdul painting. He’d just confessed his family history to me, and I didn’t have enough fact to wonder about what the symbols of that painting meant to him. That didn’t stop me from doing it though. He had in his room a man strumming a guitar in front of a prison. To me, it had been about finding happiness in dire circumstances.

  What did the jail in the painting mean to Maven? Was he inside of it or out when he looked at it?

  Chapter 3

  I didn’t think I would sleep, but Maven’s bed was soft, comfortable, and his pillow nice and cool. Sleep dragged me under to a series of weird dreams that had me running from some unknown enemy who chased at my heels. The location kept changing, but the need to flee for my life kept up with me.

  Light streamed through the windows when I opened my eyes. The sound downstairs finally pulled me out of my fog. Between the fire and the bad dreams, I’d be a mess if I wasn’t used to not sleeping very well. I had a hard time turning off my head. Most of the time I read, since I was alone more often than not in my room. Molly slept with R.J. most nights in his fraternity house.

  I’d never imagined spending the night in a fraternity house. And yet… here I was. His bed smelled really good. I took a deep whiff. This was going to be a one time thing, so I really needed to make a memory of it. There was just a way, sometimes, that guys smelled. A purely male scent. It wasn’t sweat or cologne. Maybe it was his soap and shampoo. Perhaps Maven washed his hair before he went to bed at night and that was the woodsy, clean aroma that clung to his sheets.

  Or maybe I was just obsessed because he’d kissed me. What had that been about? I saw the lines of women who wanted to get in here on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights from my dorm room window. With the exception of one house that didn’t seem get any attention, every frat on campus was overwhelmed with women wanting to party. SPiI had to turn people away at the door. Why bother with me? Maybe it had just been a moment—we were alone in his bedroom, in the middle of the night, talking about our parents in front of a painting that evoked a reaction in anyone who spent time looking at it. Yes, I was going to go with that.

  I was stiff, and I had to pee, which meant I had to go find a bathroom. Shared toilet facilities would be something I wouldn’t miss when I was finally out of college. Or at least not having to share them with a whole hallway of people.

  I stuck my head out the door. All of the noise I heard was downstairs. Upstairs, the hallway was quiet. I had a lot of questions about this fraternity now that I’d stepped through the doors. How many brothers did they have? What happened after graduation? Did the pledges live here, too?

  I made my way down the hall until I found the bathroom, which was surprisingly clean, considering this was a frat house and stereotypically guys were not all that neat. Of course, I’d lived enough unusual places to know that stereotypes were usually incredibly wrong.

  It was good to learn something new every day. This morning it was that the upstairs bathroom in SPiI was clean. I wished I had my phone. I’d text Molly what was happening here. She’d never believe I did this. I was Giovanna, the girl who studied, ran the lit magazine, and went to the movies. Sure, I had friends I did this stuff with, but I didn’t go to parties. I didn’t even drink. How had I just spent the night at a frat house?

  I headed downstairs toward the sounds of conversation. I really didn’t know what I was supposed to do now. Could I go back to my dorm?

  The kitchen was filled with people eating and laughing. The guys who had been in gray shirts the night before were wearing khaki pants, white collared shirts, red ties, and blue vests. Those had to be the pledges. I’d never noticed people walking around in the same clothes during the regular school year. Maybe this was just something they were doing this week.

  Chance sat on the counter, Banyan next to him, and around the sides of the room were four guys I didn’t recognize. Two of them had women with them.

  I hated this kind of moment. Walking into a room where you hardly knew anyone and having to just… be there. “Hi. Good morning.”

  Banyan’s face lit up. “Giovanna. Hey.”

  He was dressed the same as he had been the day before, as was Chance. Had they still not been to bed? Did these guys ever sleep?

  “Gentlemen,” Chance said to the pledges. “Go ahead.”

  “Good morning, Giovanna. M
erry Christmas.”

  That was right. It was Christmas Day. Sleeping must have addled my brain. “Thank you. Merry Christmas to all of you.”

  “They’re all getting ready to leave,” Chance informed me. “They are going to help people more needy than themselves and remember how fortunate they are to be so privileged that they can go making mistakes like getting caught putting underwear up a flagpole. Go now, all of you. Be back in four hours, and then you can leave. Mommy and Daddy, or whatever version of that you have, will be glad to see you. Scoot.”

  “Thank you, pledge master.” They spoke in unison again before they lined up in a straight line and left the house. They certainly had to do some interesting things before they got to wear three letters across their chest.

  “Giovanna, this is Ridge. Tom. Ben. Ridge’s sister Eleanor, and Tom’s girlfriend Patty. Everyone, Giovanna.”

  Hellos were said around the room before each one of them exited. I hoped it wasn’t because of me, but I didn’t really see how it could be. I hadn’t done anything. Had I?

  Ridge turned on his way out. “We’ll be back for New Years. You guys are better men than me. I’m not facing my mother if I don’t show up today.”

  Chance laughed. “Did you see the pledges faces when I said they could go after the food kitchen? I think they were sort of shocked.”

  “Completely. Have a good one.” Ridge waved over his shoulder.

  So maybe it wasn’t me. They were already all on their way out.

  Banyan nudged Chance. “Gentle reminder that pledge Agarwal is Hindu. His family is vegetarian. So…”

  Chance nodded fast, clearing his throat. “I know. And we have company. Sorry, Giovanna. Some pledge things have to be secret.”

  I shook my head. “No worries.” I would obviously have to keep a lot of my questions to myself. I was used to sort of being on the outside of things looking in. This wouldn’t be different. And besides, it wasn’t like I was ever really going to be here again to have any questions about what they would be doing that would require Chance to remember that one of them was a vegetarian. Were they making a dinner?