Better Have Heart (Harrison Campus 2)

He plunked his sweaty ass on the corner of his bed and rubbed the end of the phone against his temple, groaning.

Mom: Someone wanted to say hello and they wish they’d known you were gay last summer.

He winced and tapped the attached video. It was Max Whateverhisnamewas, saying hello and smiling stiffly at him from the screen.

Thing was, Max wasn’t smiling at him. He was smiling at Darren’s lineage. At Darren Josiah Gage Sr., the oil baron, not Darren J. Gage V., the student. Max and his parents wanted a husband with the right credentials. The measuring stick for “right” was how many generations the family had been wealthy. Clearly, the Gages passed the test.

Even if Max was the hottest guy ever, Darren couldn’t stomach his family. They tried too hard to fit in. All he wanted was something genuine. Real.

He stared through his open door into the bright hall.

Piano music tinkered through the house, and he flung himself backward on the bed and bathed in the calming notes.

He looked at his walls.

His side of the room looked like a homage to Cristiano Ronaldo. He’d never been allowed to tape tacky posters on the wall growing up, and he made up for it here. The plastered walls were comfort. A glimpse of the normal guy under the shadow of Gage and all the generations of wealth that name represented.

He snuck another look at Mom’s message.

What would it be like to have someone smile at him for him?

His fraternity brother’s panicked voice hurtled down the hall, breaking his thoughts. “I need two hundred and fifty dollars to get my car. I can barely spare fifty.”

“Shit, Seth. I’m sorry.” Billy Dorgan sounded like he was wincing on Seth’s behalf. “I’d help out, but my parents haven’t loaded my spending money into my account.”

“This is so cracked. I didn’t even unpack everything ’cause I didn’t want to leave my car there.”

Annoyance sparked through Darren. Campus police only targeted the cars of people they knew couldn’t make a fuss. As if the rich kids didn’t double-park all the time. How many free passes had Darren got? And he didn’t think twice about what was charged on his card.

Another unfair advantage that came with the name Gage.

A door shut, muffling their voices.

The music stopped, too, and he was left stewing in his own sweat, made worse by the fact he had to answer his mom.

He imagined how he might reply.

Hey Mom, stop trying to set me up with men who have “decent” last names. In fact, stop trying to set me up at all. Especially if they’re stuffed shirts. We good? Love you.

Or, if he wasn’t quite that brave:

Hey Mom, Max has a sister, right? How about playing matchmaker with Cody? He’s the son who needs to stop dropping trou at the first hint of a smile.

He sent his mom a waving emoji. He sure was well versed in taking the coward’s route. Like signing up for summer classes to avoid the annual trip to the family’s estate in Rhode Island.

Yeah, he couldn’t stand an entire summer of his dad ignoring him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Maybe Dad just needed time.

Or maybe Darren first had to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment.

His phone vibrated. Not Dad. Never Dad anymore. He tossed it across the bed.

Yeah, he needed to improve himself. Be better. Win Dad over.

And himself over, while he was at it.

“Calm down, Seth. We’ll figure it out.”

“How?” Seth walked past his door, hands clutching his head, looking miserable.

“Hey,” Darren said. The pair jumped and twisted toward his room. He cleared his throat. “What happened to your car?”

They eyed him suspiciously. He couldn’t blame them. They were tight with Jack, and Darren had been particularly idiotic to the guy last year.

Heat burned up his chest. Shame and guilt and the clawing urge for redemption. For people to know he was sorry. That he was trying to be better.

Billy eyed him warily. “Campus security towed him. They didn’t tell us it happened, so it took a day and a half to find it. If you don’t pick up within forty-eight hours, they double the fee.”

Darren rolled off his bed and dug into his bag for his wallet and keys. “I take it they don’t accept credit cards.”

“Bingo, Big D.” He winced, and added, “And the forty-eight hours is up at three thirty.”

Darren’s fingers closed on the cold metal key ring. He pulled it out and spun it around his finger. He knew the D wasn’t short for Darren. Still. He couldn’t repair things if he didn’t try. “No worries, we can make it.”

“We?” Billy looked at Seth and then back at Darren.

Be better. “I’d let you borrow my car, but I need to stop at the ATM to get money.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. From soccer.