Charlotte & the Seven Frat Brothers

1

Re-written 05/2022

****

"I'm truly sorry, miss." The school's administrator apologized to me again for the fifth time. I nibble on my bottom lip, weighing my choices. I can either take the offer the school is now presenting me or live back at me with my parents and drive five hours to school and from campus. I prop my elbows on the desk, leaning over to whisper, so no one around me can hear.

"So, for the next semester, I would have to live in a fraternity house? Do any of the sororities have space?"

"Unfortunately, there aren't any rooms available, but if an opening comes before then, we will transfer you. That is the best I can do for you."

"Ok—I'll do it." My voice is barely above a whisper. My parents are going to have my head for this.

The administrator busies herself, preparing the paperwork for me to sign. Twenty minutes later, I have keys to the frat house in one hand and my suitcase in the next. Walking along the campus, I see how happy everyone looks, carrying their belongings to their dormitories and whatnot, making me a little sour. I shuffle forward, looking straight ahead at the frat house I will call home for a semester or less. It was my last year in college, and I wanted it to be perfect as the first year.

Yeah right.

I pull the suitcase up the porch steps and hesitantly unlock the door. I hear talking from what I assume to be the living room and walk in that general direction. SeI clear my throat and the room gets quiet. Seven guys lounged around talking about the first party of the year and how epic it would be. I l eyes turn to me.

Be cool, Charlotte. It's just boys. I tell myself. "Hi, I'm Charlotte." I wave.

"Party isn't until tonight, doll face." One of the guys sitting on the couch stated. I look his way, glaring. One thing I'm not too fond of more than being here is being objected by people, especially men.

"I'm not here for a party, and I'm the new roommate. I assume the lady at the office called to inform you guys." I look around, keeping a tight smile on my face. The room erupts in yelling, not at me but at the situation. I watched them as they pointed their finger at one another. A loud whistle rang throughout the room, and everyone quiets down. They turn their attention to the black-haired guy, now standing.

"Quiet down, fellas. I'll fix this situation." He walks toward me, extending his hand. I'm not sure what he thinks he can fix. I've tried to fix it already, but I'll let him humor me. "Hi, Charlotte, I'm Darren; you must know who I am..." He looks behind him at the rest of the guys. "Hell, you ought to know who we all are."

Yes, I've seen them about the campus, the cheerleaders hanging onto them for dear life. I knew they were football players. I major in culinary arts; if not in class or doing homework, I'm in the school's kitchen or home cooking, coming up with new recipes. So, there is not much I can say about knowing them.

"I'm sorry, I don't." I put my hand back to my side. This is the truth to a certain extent. I didn't actually know them. I did have a brief encounter with one of them, but that's a story for another time—I suppose.

The guys' faces screwed up, not believing me. Every girl and guy on campus knew of them, I bet. Eighty percent of the female population has been with at least one of the seven, which is a fact. Darren stared at me with interest, probably because no female nor male in their right mind would tell them they didn't know who they were.

"Are you going to show me my room? I want to get settled in." I ask, feeling uneasy, he was checking me out, and the look in his brown eyes told me that he was nothing but trouble. Trouble I don't want.