Claimed by the Pack

I pressed my lips together, sourly. No matter what I tried to distract myself from the breakup, my thoughts always floated back to my ex girlfriend. Holly, my high-school sweetheart. The girl who’d agreed to marry me, even if it was through the simple pledge of a cheesy promise ring.

Holly, the girl who’d cheated on me with my friend. And not just any friend… but my best friend.

Fuck you Derrick.

It was about as screwed up a situation as screwed up situations got. It had taken me two long years at Community College before finally being accepted here. And now here I was, thousands of miles from home. Trying to forget that Holly and Derrick were still back in our home town, living together.

A familiar nausea began in the pit of my stomach. I could see the two of them now, clear as day. Probably doing all the same things we used to do. Going all the same places we used to—

“This place sure needs a ton of work,” Brandon said, wiping one big finger along the wall. It came back absolutely covered in grime.

“Yeah totally,” I agreed. I found myself rubbing my temples, trying to shake away thoughts of not one, but now two women. “Think maybe you got us in a little over our heads?”

“Nah. We can whip this place into shape in no time. Maybe even make it as great as it once was.”

Brandon grabbed the doorknob to the nearest bedroom. When it broke off in his hand, he let out a nervous laugh.

“Or at least, as close to the old legends I’ve heard about Delta Delta Tau,” he grinned sheepishly.

“You’re a fucking barbarian,” I quipped. “You know that?”

Brandon flashed his trademark boyish grin. He tried handing the doorknob off to me, but I pushed it back into his hand.

“No way bro,” I smirked. “That’s your room now.”

Four

CLAUDIA

My ride back to campus the next day was filled with conflicting thoughts. As was my half-night’s sleep, during which I kept tossing and turning and hoping I’d made the right decision.

On one hand I’d done the right thing. I’d helped the guys out, and given them a place to stay on campus. And being that I was a professor on that campus, wasn’t helping students what teaching was all about?

Yes, I’d convinced myself. It certainly was.

On the other hand, I also felt like I’d taken advantage. The University had already given me a healthy stipend to repair, replace, and re-decorate the ancient frat house. Rather than use that money to hire a cleaning crew, I was now sort of getting the proverbial milk for free.

Hey, the little voice in my head reasoned. They offered first.

Besides, I didn’t even know they’d follow through on their promise to do anything at all. They could move in all their stuff, laugh in my face, and refuse to do jack shit. In all likelihood, I couldn’t even evict them. I’d be stuck.

“Damn,” I grunted, clenching the steering wheel. “That had better not happen.”

Talking to myself during my commute was my favorite time of the day. I got to speak my mind without being shot down by Garrett, or questioned by any one of a hundred students. It was the purest form of free thought.

I finished breakfast — a dry, crunchy granola bar — and turned through the University’s entrance. Two huge rows of elms lined the main avenue. Students milled back and forth, moving like colorful ants from quad to quad. Classes were in full swing. The chill of fall was a crisp snap in the October air.

“You? Fix up a house?”

I could still hear Garrett’s hollow laugher. Taste the cynicism dripping from his smarmy, know-it-all voice.

“What the hell do you know about repairing anything?”

It was stupid of me to even tell him. Nearly as stupid as living with your ex-husband, almost a year after getting divorced.

Just thinking about the whole situation made me grip the steering wheel even tighter. We’d separated, split up, divorced… and yet there I was, still in the home we’d made together. Only it wasn’t a home anymore. It was more like a prison. Just one of the many reasons I’d taken this side project, so I could spend as much time as possible not getting into it with him.

“You barely fix anything around here,” he’d laughed. “Look at this place. It’s going to hell in a handbasket.”