Greek (Palm South University)

“How has it been going with him gone?” Jess asks.

“Fine, I guess,” I say, stopping at a rack with neon colors. I hold up a pair of hot pink fishnets, and before I can even ask, Skyler grabs them from my hands and throws them in our cart.

“Fine never actually means fine,” Ashlei assesses.

“Well, it was fine. At first. I mean, we had the summer together, and then when he got sent to Boulder, we would text and call and video chat all the time. But lately… I don’t know. He’s been busier, and I keep seeing him tagged in pictures with all these girls. I know it’s part of the job — he’s helping the brothers throw events, working with other executive members in the fraternities and sororities, but…”

“But he has a whole life without you,” Jess finishes, her eyes understanding. “That was the hardest part for me with Jarrett.”

“Yes,” I agree, rubbing a velvet jacket between my fingertips as my gaze loses focus. “He just feels… distant. He always has to go. He always has something to do. And there’s this girl he keeps mentioning, Chandler. They met when he helped her with a girl in her sorority who was entirely too drunk, and now they’re kind of like… I don’t know, mentors for each other? He’s been helping her out and she’s returning the favor. It sounds friendly, but…”

“It’s natural to feel jealous and intimidated and scared,” Jess tells me, squeezing my arm. “But listen to me — Adam is all yours. I mean, you’re wearing his letters. That might as well be an engagement ring around your neck.”

I finger the necklace as she says the words, heart thrumming at the memory of the day he gave it to me.

“Don’t make the mistake I did and make a bigger deal out of something than it is. Trust him. He loves you. Okay?”

I nod. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of that… what’s going on with the boys?” Ashlei asks Jess.

She sighs, throwing her hands up. “God if I know. Taking the summer away from both of them didn’t help anything — I think I was just trying to avoid it. But Kade came over and we’ve been talking so much, and I had such an amazing time with him at the A Sig karaoke event.”

“Oh, we know,” Skyler says with a smirk.

Jess flicks her arm. “But now Jarett wants his turn.”

“Are you going to give it to him?” I ask.

Jess stops at a rack and leans into it, the clothes and hangers groaning with the weight of her. “I know it sounds fucked up but… I have to. I have to see him. I have to talk to him and ask questions that have been eating me up. I have to see if what we had is still there.” She pauses. “He was my first real love. He was my first real heartbreak, too. And I… I don’t think I can let him go.”

“Ever?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I have plans with him on Halloween, so we’ll see what happens.”

“Well, now I’m definitely not asking for a girls’ night,” Ashlei says.

“I’d bail on him for you,” Jess promises.

Ashlei smiles, kissing her cheek. “I know. But this drama is too good for me to pass up on. It’d be like missing a week of my favorite TV show.”

Jess flicks her off, and with a soft laugh, we all start perusing the clothes racks again.

Skyler avoids the Kip question when it comes up, and Ashlei falls back into her silent, glazed state of being.

The KKB girls aren’t in the best shape right now.

But at least we have each other.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU,” Giselle says from the floor where I’m standing over her. Sweat covers her neck, her chest, drips off her hairline and into her eyes.

“Kick your legs up like you mean it,” I challenge.

She grits her teeth, and then with a grunt, she sends her legs up, straight and together, her core firing up before I grab her sneakers and throw her legs back down toward the ground. It takes a focused breath from her not to let them hit the ground, and then she pushes them back up to me.

Again, and again, and again.

I finally call it, and she flops out like a fish, chest panting as I grab a towel and hand it to her. “Get some water,” I say, doing the same. “I think we’re done for today.”

“You think?” she pants, groaning a bit as she sits up to grab her water bottle. She takes a long swig, shaking her head. “When I asked you to be my personal trainer, I imagined jumping jacks and high knees and some pushups. I didn’t picture a full hour of unimaginable torture.”

I chuckle. “You’re already stronger than last week, and remember — you asked for this.”