Schooling the Jock (Nerds Vs Jocks #1) - - Eli Easton Page 0,3
will,” agreed Rand Charles the Alpha Lambda Alpha chapter president.
There were eight of us in the dean’s office on this cold Monday morning. Out the large window of Dean Robbert’s office in the admin building, the sky was a leaden gray, and the campus looked frosty and bleak. Four of us from Sigma Mu Tau and four from Alpha Lambda Alpha sat in front of the desk like penitents at a tribunal, stuffed into chairs we’d grabbed from the conference room next door. Jax was the head of our delegation as our chapter president. I was basically second in our house because I ran membership and was captain of the Quiz Bowl team, and we’d brought Billings and Johnson, of course.
On the enemy side of the aisle—which wasn’t so much an aisle as a few inches between chairs—were Rand Charles, who was blond, blue-eyed, and perfect if you liked Hitler Youth toothpaste commercials, Traynor Blackstone, gorgeous, rich, Black, and the key player on their ridiculous flag-football team, Rex Burton, who was kind of a cipher since he lived off campus, but apparently, they’d brought him because he saw Billings and Johnson coming out from behind the ALA house, and Jesse Knox. Jesse, six foot three and drool-worthy, looked like he’d rather be anywhere but sitting in that room.
In fact, there was no reason for Jesse to be there except he was the winning running back for the Madison football team, and thus a bargaining chip for the ALA side. Madison took Badger football very seriously.
Jesse flickered his gaze our way and met mine. His green eyes were cold with accusation and disdain. And yeah, that was pretty much on-brand for Jesse. I’d never actually spoken to him, but he came across as stuck-up. Shame that a guy with such a gorgeous exterior was such a grade-A jerk. Not even broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, and sandy-blond hair could redeem that personality.
“This stunt over the weekend was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back,” the Dean went on. “You’ve exhausted the last of my patience. I’m one pen stroke away from disbanding both your houses!”
Oh shit. I looked at Jax who was seated to my left. He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight, and his face flushed above his auburn beard.
“You can’t do that, sir,” Rand said in his best golf-caddy voice.
“Oh, I most certainly can.” Dean Robberts opened a folder. “You’ve already had two strikes just this school year. ALA was formally censured in September for posting on Instagram a nude video taken through the SMT house bathroom window.”
“That was just a joke. You couldn’t even tell who it was!” Rex complained.
The dean ignored him. “And in October, the SMTs were sanctioned for planting dog feces ‘bombs’ all over the ALA lawn.”
“We were just getting back at them for the video,” Jax said. “At least ours didn’t involve public humiliation.” He glared at Rand.
Rand glared back, curling his upper lip like a feral wolf. If I’d been closer, I probably could have heard him growl. It was funny how quickly Rand’s polite, goody-two-shoes, country-club façade vanished when he was looking at Jax. And the normally chill Jax had the same reaction, going from flower child to John Wick in two seconds flat.
“And that’s just this year,” Dean Robberts went on, ignoring us. “Last year you had two sanctions each. So I am well within my rights to disband your houses. Both of you.”
“I understand, sir,” Rand said smoothly. “But the Alphas had nothing to do with what happened over the weekend. We were attacked without provocation.”
“Smoke alarm!” Jax said through gritted teeth. “How many times has one of your guys burnt popcorn? Because it happens in our house once a week. There wouldn’t have been any damage if your smoke detector had been working as per house regulations.”
“Yeah? Well fuck you, Jax,” spat Rand.
Jax rolled his eyes. “Brilliant comeback, Einstein.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re both at fault!” Dean Robberts barked. “This culture of antagonism and constant harassment between your two houses caused this incident. It doesn’t matter who did what. Although, Rand, you will be fined for a breach of safety regulations, and there’ll be an inspection next week to be sure everything is up to code.”
That earned Jax another I-hate-you look from Rand.
“The only question that remains is whether I commit that pen stroke to paper or not.” Dean Robberts looked threateningly at each of us in turn as if to impress upon us how serious