but…” I shrugged and looked around at the mess I’d made. “Sometimes words aren’t enough.” I pointedly didn’t mention that I’d already used the no-words approach when I’d tried to kiss him.
He looked at me for a moment. “You don’t owe me anything, Soph. I’m happy to help you.”
“Well, I’m happy to make you breakfast.”
The crooked grin that never failed to make my insides flutter a bit spread across his face. “I like dinner too, in case that also makes you happy.”
Laughing, I grabbed a nearby dish towel and threw it at him. “Don’t push your luck.”
Sadly, he caught the towel before it could smack him in the face. “Do I have time to grab a shower?” he asked.
“A quick one, yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
And he was. Ten minutes later, we were filling our plates and carrying them to the small kitchen table, where I’d already put two glasses of orange juice.
We ate for a bit in silence. Drew didn’t seem like he was burning to discuss anything, namely our almost-kiss the previous night, and I hoped that was a sign that he was willing to pretend it never happened. But while the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, I didn’t want him grasping at things to fill it with.
“I got an email this morning from Macy, our sorority secretary,” I said.
He finished chewing and took a sip of juice before replying. “Oh yeah? What was it about?”
“It outlined what I’d have to do if I wanted to move forward with my claim to run for president.”
Drew gave me a go on motion with one hand as he heaped more bacon onto his plate with the other.
“First thing would be for me to send an email of intent to the dean of student affairs. Once I get the okay from her to proceed, Erin’ll put together a meeting where Aamee and I’ll both present why we’re the best choice to be president. Then, everyone votes. Since Aamee is already president, I’d need a three-quarters vote to take the position from her.”
Drew chewed for a second, his brow furrowed. Finally, he set his fork down and looked at me. “So what are you going to do?”
I’d been asking myself that question since I read Macy’s email. Though I guess I’d really been asking it since I opened my big mouth during my appeal. I didn’t want to pursue this for a petty reason. I wanted to be sure that I could be the president Zeta Eta Chi deserved, instead of the one they got when Aamee stepped into the role.
There was no mistaking the hopeful look on Drew’s face. He wanted me to go for it. He had wanted that since he found the rule in the first place. But I couldn’t do this just because I didn’t want to disappoint him. The reason needed to be bigger than that. Bigger than him. Bigger than even me. It had to be for what was truly best for the sorority that I’d been pressured to join but loved nonetheless.
I leaned back in my chair and regarded him for a second. “I guess I’m going to draft a letter to the dean of student affairs.”
Drew punched the air with his fists. “Yes!”
And while I watched him celebrate, I dared to let a tendril of excitement unfurl inside me. This could happen. I could become president of Zeta Eta Chi.
And for the first time, I truly wanted to be.
Chapter Thirteen
S O P H I A
I expected to have more than a few days to get ready for the next sorority meeting, but if I wanted to become president, I was going to need to perform under pressure. And preparing a written statement outlining my qualifications was my first test.
I’d had much of what I planned to say floating around in my head, but getting it down on paper proved much more difficult. How did I make myself seem fit for the position while showing Aamee’s weaknesses without looking like a spiteful bitch? There was a gentle finesse to it that I hoped like hell I got right.
I glanced around the living room of the sorority house I hadn’t been in for weeks and tried to mentally settle the acid moving around in my stomach. I hadn’t had an appetite since the previous night, and it was almost five.
Aamee sat across from me, both of us in hard chairs brought in from the dining room table, while the rest of our sisters made themselves comfortable in furniture