Don't Get Angry

25- Otis: Explain Yourself

Dalta and I got out of my car. Angie was walking up the sidewalk. I smiled, prepared to call out to her, when she stormed past us and marched up the front step. She pushed the front door open and ran inside. Dalta grabbed my arm. "Is she okay?" she asked with worry all over her tone.

I shrugged. "It's Angie; a complete wreck. She's always upset and never tells us why."

"And you're not worried?"

"Of course, I am. But how am I supposed to help her if she doesn't tell me anything?" I shook my head. "She's practically a baby anyway. What does she have to worry about?"

Dalta still looked concerned. Her hand slipped down my arm to my wrist. She stared up at me. "Talk to her, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

A slight smile hit her cheek. I could tell that she was still upset and that our little talk didn't do much help. But I was glad that she wasn't as sad. We walked into the Mahoy's and made our way to Peter's room. I took a deep breath, then knocked on his door. I was nervous. Somehow it felt as if knowing more about what was going on would just pulling us deeper into it. Peter opened the door. "Hey." He smiled at us. "What's up?"

"We need to talk," I folded my arms trying to seem tough.

"O...kay?" Peter stepped aside.

We walked into the room and sat on his bed.

He shut the door. "What's-"

"You need to explain what you're apart of to us and why you really ended up in that gas station that night."

His face went pale. He shook his head. "The both of you need to go, right now-"

"No!" Dalta folded her arms. "We're not leaving unless you tell us what's going on!"

"I can't."

"If you don't... we'll tell on you."

I looked at Dalta with furrowed brows. "Really? What are you? Five?"

"Okay," she rolled her eyes then looked at him. "I'll tell Penny what happened that night. Whatever she chooses to do with that information is up to her."

Peter's nostrils flared. He clenched his jaw. "You guys helped me getaway!"

"We're minors-"

"You're black and middle class."

Dalta lifted her brows. "Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean." He sighed. "Look, what I'm a part of isn't a cult."

"Technically it is-"

"Dalta," I groaned and shook my head. "Is everything a secret conspiracy with her?"

"Fraternities are cults," she sassed and lifted her chin.

I rolled my eyes.

Peter squinted. "How'd you know that I was in one? I got kicked out of the school before I could even get involved in anything..."

"Doesn't matter," Dalta shook her head no longer trusting Peter enough to explain. "Explain yourself. Why are you a part of a system that kicked you out?"

"The college kicked me out. The fraternity...I'm still with them. This frat isn't like any of those you hear about. It's different. We stick closer together more than any other frat in the country."

I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure every frat says that, but okay. What does Betty have to do what any of this?"

Peter got quiet. He sighed and looked down. "Betty found herself with the wrong guy. Chad isn't exactly the best guy to date... He's just another rich kid in this town who gets what he wants. He didn't even have to do an initiation to get in... He just got in."