Midterms were over, and that was cause enough to celebrate by parading around Hoh Fruhm in nothing but a pair of boxers with a bottle of beer in hand. That was, until one got onto the dining patio which not only contained the wet bar but three different kinds of kegs.

Nick was the designated bartender since it was his night to mix drinks. He was sporting a pair of red boxers with a fanciful black pattern. So dignified. There was a perk to being the bartender though, he got to talk to more women that way. They had to talk to him if they wanted something mixed.


“What can I get for you, darling?” he smiled while grabbing one of the containers of fruit flavors that Rafael had picked up earlier and stocked the wet bar with.

A pretty brunette in adorable Mickey Mouse panties was in the middle of filling her cup from the old wine keg. She took a sip and returned the smile. The special ladies ‘only’ keg was full of banana vodka, Malibu rum, and a ton of lemonade. He never added the pills.

“Well I already have a cup but…can you make me a margarita?”

“Of course!” he said and grabbed the blender. A few other of their sorority guests gathered around to watch and wait for margaritas. He flashed a flirtatious smile toward her as he grabbed a bottle of tequila. He looked in the wet bar for triple-sec and moved around some bottles before finding it. He also found a few more blue pill bottles and frowned. Just how much of this shit did Marshall get a hold of? It probably wasn’t even legal if still being used on test animals.

He scooted a different bottle of alcohol over in front of it to hide it from view and pretend he hadn’t seen it.

Nick blended the margarita ingredients and poured them into a set of four glasses. The brunette took a glass and winked at him.


“Calhoun!” he heard Marshall call. The fraternity president had just finished drinking from the tap of the fruit keg while surrounded by cheering members of the Greek society. Nick felt a prick of annoyance at hearing that surname and Marshall knew how it made Nick feel, yet still called him by it from time to time. “You gonna have a turn?”

“Sure, but I thought I was mixing drinks?” Nick put his hand to his head to hide his obvious annoyance.

Marshall crossed his arms, “Well yeah you were, but you didn’t even mix the keg correctly so I’ll be taking over.”

Nick looked to Marshall in bewilderment. How could Marshall have known? Marshall put on a smug little smile that Nick had always hated. He reached into the wet bar, shifted the bottle Nick had just used to hide the pills, and grabbed one of the bottles.


“You forgot an ingredient,” Marshall frowned and held the bottle out to Nick in his palm. Nick crossed his arms and matched the frown.

“Really?” Nick said in sarcastic disdain.

“You’re not seeing the bigger picture here,” Marshall uncorked the top of the keg and dropped two pills in, “This will make our parties so much better. You weren’t complaining about it last night.”

It took all of Nick’s willpower not to shove Marshall away. How did that little skeeze-ball end up as president of Hoh Fruhm anyway? Probably a generous donation from his alumnus father secured him the spot.

He watched as Marshall stepped around to address the female guests in the vicinity, telling them not to let their cups get empty and have some more of what was in the ‘special keg’.


Nick refused to be a part of illicitly drugging college women. He pushed his shoulder into the keg and used his strength to shove it forward until gravity took hold and pulled the thing crashing toward the floor.


A few of the ladies gave little screams of surprise as the keg cracked into wooden pieces and the liquid spilled across the dining patio. They quickly retreated from the mess so their feet wouldn’t get wet. Marshall looked struck with disbelief at what Nick had just done before the expression turned to pure loathing.


“What is wrong with you?!” he shouted and stepped forward in a pathetic attempt to intimidate Nick. Nick was much taller and packed a lot more muscle; Marshall could never physically intimidate Nick. The only power Marshall had was his name and family influence.

“What’s wrong with me? I don’t have to drug women to get them to sleep with me!” Nick retorted in the same volume with coiled fists.

The room got quiet at Nick’s outburst. Marshall held up his hands, to temper Nick, suddenly seeming a bit nervous at all the attention. He would have loved it at any other time.

Nick suddenly wondered how many of his bros knew about the Torporia? Did Rafael know Marshall was putting in the drinks now? He glanced around the room and saw some party guests whispering to each other with troubled expressions. They weren’t drinking from their cups anymore.

Good.


Nick gave one last look of disgust toward Marshall before leaving the patio. His enthusiasm for partying had dissolved along with those pills.

He felt someone grab his arm but he wasn’t in the mood. He turned to tell them off but his lips were set upon in a hungry kiss from one of the sorority sisters. He backed her against the wall to return the kiss before pulling away to see who she was.

Tara.

Guilt overtook him, reminded of what Marshall had said. Tara had been drugged last night. They both had. He pulled away and she reluctantly let him. She gave him a pout, and he returned an apologetic expression. How could he even explain to her what happened without her thinking him a total creep? Before he could find words, she frowned with displeasure because he wouldn’t reconsider, and turned on him with an indignant huff while grabbing onto a more willing participant. It hurt his heart a bit to watch her disappear upstairs with somebody else.


“Nick has got to go,” he heard Marshall’s voice float around the corner from the dining patio. Nick sidled up to the wall to hear what kind of trash-talking Marshall was doing behind his back.

“What he did was really uncool,” Nick heard another frat brother say in agreement.

“I’m sure he had a reason,” Nick recognized Rafael’s voice. Yeah! Rafael would have his back!

“No one asked for your opinion, pleb,” Marshall snapped, “You’re just here to clean.”

Nick glared into nothing and though he couldn’t see them he knew that Rafael, who was still on cleaning duty was being forced to squeegee up Nick’s mess while the legacies bad-mouthed him. This also proved Rafael didn’t know Marshall was using the Torporia to his advantage.

But this was the last straw. He never wanted to be in the fraternity in the first place and he sure didn’t want to be now that it was so nonchalant about serving mind-wiping drinks to the female party guests.

Nick decided then that he was done with the Greek society and Nick hated that Marshall would get what he wanted but he would go.