But after analyzing it, I knew my hesitance wasn’t indicative of my ability to be an effective president. I didn’t want to be in the house. Aamee asserted a certain power over some of the girls, and that power caused fear, which then resulted in them treating me differently. It was like Aamee had spent the beginning of the school year creating little robots who followed her every command.
Sophia is the devil.
Yes, Master.
Don’t talk to her.
Yes, Master.
I hoped if I became president, they would stop acting out of fear and see Aamee for who she really was: a Barbie Doll with the personality of Annabelle. And I wasn’t about to let that demon influence my sorority sisters if I could help it.
With a long huff, I walked through our apartment door. When did it become our apartment, when it is neither mine nor Drew’s?
Drew and his group were spread out in the living room again, working on their project. He’d told me they were going to try to meet here once a week, but I’d forgotten until now because I’d been so preoccupied with the sorority meeting.
Carter was also there for his study session, and even early for once. His gaze darted from the TV to me when I tossed my bag onto the table by the door.
“How’d it go?” Drew looked up from where he’d been messing with Brody’s laptop. “I’m hoping your sigh means you’re just acclimating to your new role and you’re disappointed you won’t be living with me anymore.”
Aniyah gave him a look like he’d just tried to explain quantum physics. “Why would she rather live with you than her sorority sisters?”
“Uh, because I’m awesome. And the life of the party.”
“What party are we speaking about exactly?” Carter asked. “I have yet to see you at one.”
Drew shrugged, and I recognized that he’d dug himself a little hole. He played the easygoing, happy-go-lucky senior well, but when it came down to it, he cared more about actually learning something than anyone else in the room.
“The semester’s still early,” he said. “I’m just gearing up. And besides, it’s why I had to transfer here to begin with. No way my parents were paying for another year at Buckley with the way my grades were. I gotta focus and take this whole school thing seriously.”
“I’m confused,” Xander said. “So you do party, or you don’t?”
“I party,” Drew said confidently.
Xander reached into his bag. “Nice, ’cause I just got my hands on some good shi—”
“But not your kind of partying, I guess,” Drew added quickly.
Xander shrugged and settled back against the couch cushions. “Suit yourself.”
“Speaking of parties, I have to throw one,” I said, plopping down next to Xander. “What do you have in that bag?”
Xander’s eyes lit up, and I realized they were so dark, I couldn’t tell whether his pupils were dilated or not.
“I’m kidding,” I said.
Drew was leaning forward, his forearms on his legs, which were spread wide. “So did you win or not?”
“I didn’t win, but neither did Aamee. They said it was too tough to decide with a vote right then because neither of us has really proved ourselves as president yet. We each have to throw an event at some point during the semester, and the other officers are going to gauge attendee opinion and the amount of money we raised and things like that before everyone votes.”
After no one said anything, I looked away from Drew and around the room at everyone. “I hate that I have to wait another month or two before the vote, but I get why they’re doing it. As long as I think of a good solid idea for the party, I’m hoping I can make the rest fall into place.”
“Don’t look at me,” Toby said. “The only party I’ve ever been a part of is a political one.”
“I already enlisted the help of my best friend from home. She’s supposed to come Saturday and just stay for the night. If anyone can help me figure out how to throw an event of the century, it’s Taylor. When our high school chose a venue for our prom no one liked, Taylor threw her own at a better place. Most of our class went to hers.” I looked to Drew. “I should’ve asked you if she could come first. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
Carter stood. “You can tell Taylor she doesn’t need to make the trip. I’m all over this. We can get a keg and some strippers. One of my buddies—”
“This isn’t a bachelor party,” Drew said.
“Parties are lame,” Aniyah said, and her contribution began and ended with that.
We were all silent for a minute or so, all presumably thinking about what to plan, when Drew’s phone rang.
He held it up so that everyone could see it was his mom calling. “I should probably take this.”
Then he excused himself to the bedroom, leaving me alone with Lazarus University’s motleyest crew.
D R E W
My mom and I didn’t make it a habit of talking. It wasn’t that we didn’t get along or didn’t like each other. It was just that neither of us typically found a reason to call the other. Plus, we didn’t share many things in common. While my mom and sisters were content to sit on the porch, gossiping about neighborhood drama over a carton of Newports, I’d wanted better for myself.
I always had. And while most parents should be happy their kids wanted better than they had, my mom and dad seemed to resent my drive in a way that highlighted just how insecure they were with their own lives. They’d settled, and they knew it.
Even in their marriage, they hadn’t put forth the effort it deserved to raise five kids. For years, they’d gone through the motions rather than work hard to make their lives better. To most, they didn’t appear to be more than friends who cohabitated for the sake of a budget and convenience. I wanted more than that for my life.
So when my mom called me, I answered. I always did. Because someone was either dead or dying or she needed something from me. And while the latter frequently annoyed me, I couldn’t help but hope for it when the alternative involved someone’s demise.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, closing the door to Sophia’s bedroom behind me.
“Hi, Andrew, it’s Mom.”
It always sounded strange to be called Andrew. Only my mom referred to me that way. I was Andrew Christopher Nolan III, and since my dad went by Drew, my mom had always called me by my given name to distinguish us from each other. If she’d had it her way, she would’ve named me Jesse, a Full House nod I was thankful I didn’t receive.
When my younger brother was born seven years later, she tried Jesse for him too, but my dad wouldn’t have it. The most he would allow it for was our bulldog, who we all called Uncle just to mess with my mom.
“What’s new?” I asked, waiting to hear whose funeral I’d need to attend or what she wanted from me.
“I just called to see how you’re doing. How’s the bar?”
“Good. Same as it always is. What’s up with you guys?”
“Not much,” my mom said casually. “Dad started working at the car dealer up the street.”
I was pretty sure he had worked there years ago, but I didn’t ask. Management had probably changed since then, and they must have had no clue he’d ever been employed there. I tried to remember why he’d left, but my mom spoke again before I could.