The Scammer(61)

“So you really think I should run for treasurer? Seriously?”

“Absolutely! You got all the chops. You caught things our current treasurer couldn’t. We need people like you in office.”

I smile up at him. It’s nice feeling needed, being seen.

Nick opens the door for me and we step straight into an ambush.

“So what’s this I’m hearing about you’re fucking some guy in your dorm?” Kent shouts, stalking up to me.

I reel back. “Huh?”

The room is full of Kappas, most that don’t even live in the house. Nick looks around, clearly stunned by their presence.

“Bitch, is you cheating on our boy?” he shouts louder.

Nick steps in front of me. “Whoa whoa whoa. You need to fall back, right now! Where is this coming from?”

“Word is your girl likes having trains run on her by them hotep bros!”

“Where’d you get that from?” I snap.

“I ain’t revealing my sources,” he says, cockily. “But she’s been seen sneaking back into her dorm. I’m just saying, if she’s for the streets, she should be in the streets and not up in our spot. And I’m not trying to hear some shit about her cheating on you and we take all this heat!”

“I’m not cheating on him. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. I can’t believe I have to defend such a stupid lie.

“Oh for real? Tell me you weren’t in the Rock two days ago? Don’t make me break out the pictures.”

Pictures? Of what?

My mouth opens and closes. “I . . . I went there to get my mail. That’s it!”

Nick looks at me but stays silent.

“So are y’all really a couple or nah?” someone asks.

“What kind of question is that?” Nick snaps. “She’s my girlfriend! We’re in a relationship. She’s even coming home with me for Thanksgiving to meet my parents. This is the real deal.”

The men whisper to one another.

“All I’m saying, dawg, is that if she’s in some trouble, you could just tell us. But she can’t hide out here and fuck our shit up.”

“Hey man,” Nick shouts. “If you want US to go, then just say that.”

The brothers stand quiet. Kent ice grills them all.

“Bitch better be worth it,” he snaps, knocking over a lamp.

Nick grabs my hand, leading me up to the room, shutting the door behind us. He rips off his coat, throwing it at the wall, and runs both hands through his hair, panting. I watch the torn look on his face, the encounter cracking him open and feel a twinge of guilt. Because if he knew the real me, I can’t imagine him keeping up with this lie.

Heart racing, I walk over and tackle him with a hug.

“Nick, I . . . I don’t want you lying for me,” I whisper.

Nick’s hug is stiff at first, but then he melts, his arms scooping under my armpits, chin resting on my head. His cool silky fingers glide up my forearm, twisting into my fallen spaghetti strap. He slides the strap up slow, returning it to my shoulder. His dark pink lips part as if he wants to say something, but he just stares without even a hint of a smile.

Heatstroke, I reason to myself. The shots mixed with this boiling room. Because the thoughts racing through my head feel almost like lust.

And I like it.

He pulls away slightly, running his fingers through my hair, pinky grazing my neck. Then he blinks, collecting himself, and clears his throat.

“I’m . . . gonna go make you some tea.”

He rushes out of the room, leaving me aching for his warmth in the blazing hot room.





Twenty-Two




Me: Kammy where are you?



For the last three days, I’ve tried calling Kammy several times. But there’s been no word from her. I consider waiting outside the dorm, but I’m afraid someone will spot me and give Kammy a heads-up. Or worse, someone sees us talking and reports back to Devonte. I don’t want her to suffer consequences like I almost did. This conversation needs to be an ambush.

I wait for Nick in front of Webber Hall to finish with classes. After the party, things went pretty much back to normal, and we fell into a comfortable routine.

I see him walking across the Quad from the Malcolm Center, his face in a tight knot. But as soon as he spots me, he lights up and my heart flutters. Despite everything I’m facing, Nick is the small dose of happiness I never imagined I would have again.

“Hey you,” he says as he approaches.

“Hey you.”

He gathers me up in a hug that feels so real. And after living with Devonte all those weeks, sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what’s fake anymore.

“How was your day?” he asks, as we head for the bus stop.

“Not bad,” I say.

“Ready to go home?” he asks. “’Cause, and I cannot believe I’m saying this out loud . . . I’ve been dying to watch the next episode of Love Island.”

We take the bus, chatting the whole way about our favorite contestants and looking up the audition requirements.

“You’ll need to get a tan. But I mean, it’s a $100K prize. Why not go for it?” I insist.

“So I can go on there and look like Boo Boo the Fool? I don’t think so.”