Suited

Thirty Nine

I counted down to the new year in a black velour tracksuit that matched Signore's leather one, knelt across from Vic and Lee with a bubbly mocktail in hand and my head resting on my dom's knee in the members lounge. The TV on the wall was streaming the ball drop and everyone was participating, even Signore. He was wearing one of the silver plastic leis handed out at the door and let me have a silly little 2025 headband. I had every intention to sit patiently after we all screamed "One! Happy New Year!" because what happened the last time Signore got kissed on the holiday was not lost on me.

So when he yanked my hair back and leaned down, pressing his lips to mine, I was unprepared. My glass was in the way and he ran into it, spilling the sticky fruity concoction down from my mouth to my neck, seeping into the fabric of my hoodie. Oddly enough that didn't stop him. He just moved to my jawline, then lower to my throat, tasting the misplaced drink as he went. We got a few stares but frankly I was too in awe to care. Part of me felt like I shouldn't be considering the scene we'd done a couple hours prior, but this felt intimate and I felt myself become shy.

It wasn't like he was drunk. He was sipping water the whole time we'd been here. He just wanted to and that felt tremendous. When he sat back up, I crashed my lips to his in drop-addled need, wrapping my arms around his neck, empty glass in hand, tasting the sugar on his tongue.

My wonderful introduction to the new year was quickly bogged down by school once Monday hit but it wasn't the work that was getting to me. I had been getting texts from my old fraternity brothers. Apparently someone saw me on campus when I had my interview and a few of them had been trying to contact me for months now but I was so busy that I kept forgetting to return the messages. I missed the New Year's party. Of course, there were parties every week, so my phone was blowing up to not miss the next one. I'd wanted a slower return to Greek life but there was nothing slow about that way of living, so I asked Signore if I could go on Friday night. It was mixer but not a huge one. To my knowledge, it was just the guys and the sisterhood.

I was almost surprised that he said yes and I was still in shock while he drove me there. I knew the rules. No alcohol, no substances, no sex, and I had to keep my phone on. I was allowed an hour to mingle and he'd be out here the whole time, in the lot about a hundred feet from the house. If I didn't come out on my own, he'd call, and if I didn't answer, he'd go in. I kissed him before I got out of the car at ten pm and he started his alarm.

My big had long graduated and it hit me when I was walking up the steps that I wasn't going to recognize most of the people here. Thankfully, I had Derek. We were in the same group of pledges and frankly wouldn't have made it through without each other. Of all the people I missed, I missed him most, and he was elected the president this past fall. I was in great hands. Well, arms, when he yanked me into a hug.

"Dude! It's been forever! How've you been?"

I smiled even though the alcohol stench in the living room was burning my nose hairs and yelled back over the music, "I'm good! You?"

"Good!" He let go of me a bit and maneuvered the both of us out of the doorway, pulling me further into the fray and Signore's car left my field of vision as the door shut. "You look so good, man. How's your heart?"

Unfortunately, he and several others on campus knew about the heart attack—having a rich, famous-adjacent dad will do that to you—but all of the positive stuff was under wraps. "Not bad. I went to rehab."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not drinking by the way, because of that, and my boyfriend would get mad."

His eyes ballooned. "You're gay?"

I shrugged. "I'm not picky with the label."

"What about Amelia?"

"Oh, we've been done. She's a serial cheater."