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He spreads his arms and I respond by tucking in against his chest, feeling comfort from his warmth. He squeezes me tight, and later, when I’m alone, I strip off the gown and pull on the clothes, feeling strangely comfortable in the men’s jeans and sweatshirt. Whoever Reagan Lake was before she got to Wittmore is long gone, a new person emerged in her place. This one is strong, determined, and resilient.

The woman I’ve become can bring down an entire system. She knows what it’s like to feel the pleasure of two men at once, and no longer needs a mirror to prove her worth.

“You ready?” Janelle asks as we walk down the hall.

My body aches. My heart hurts. My brain is a confusing bowl of mush, but I feel more complete than I have since I arrived at this school.

“Yeah,” I reply, thinking of how far I’ve come and where in life I want to go. “I’m ready.”

Epilogue

Eight weeks have passed since the gauntlet, but that doesn’t stop people from looking at me as I cross campus. My hair is two inches longer and still my natural dark blonde. I no longer dress like a boy all the time, but I do have an affinity for hoodies with zippers and pockets. I’m grateful for pretty bras and panties. I never want to shove a tube sock down my pants again.

It’s not my looks giving me stares, or even the blacklist. It’s the article.

Decades of Hazing and Abuse Revealed in Undercover Greek Sting

That was the big story around campus for weeks, well, until a new scandal came out about the football team violating recruitment rules. It wasn’t a good fall for Wittmore. My photo was in the article, along with images of Zeta Sig and Gamma Epsilon on moving day. They both lost their charters and houses.

And Royer? Well, it’s no surprise his father bailed him out and hired a prestigious lawyer to defend him from the charges. They’ve appealed his Wittmore suspension, and a hearing will be held before the end of the semester. I want to say he’ll never win, but guys like Royer Atkinson rarely lose. I’m just thankful he’s spending his time getting out of this mess and not making my life miserable.

I arrive at the building and climb the front steps. The house looks the same, brick with white columns. The letters are gone, although the faded imprint is still visible. There’s a chain and padlock looped through the brass doorknobs. A lone figure waits on the front porch—tall and lanky, glasses perched on his nose.

My heart flip-flips in my chest.

“Hey,” Grayson says. His eyes scan up and down my body. “It’s still weird seeing you like… you know.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah.” We meet halfway up the steps, and he hugs me, pulling me close. He smells great. “How are you?”

“Nervous.”

“Any chance you want to tell me what this is about?”

“Not yet.” I look back over the yard. No one else is here yet. There’s no guarantee they will show. All of this is a long shot.

“Our job is to monitor and encourage Greek life on campus,” the Chancellor said. “Obviously, we’re down two at the moment, and that doesn’t look good to the national Council in terms of philanthropy and funding.”

“It looks better than being in the news for abusing recruits,” I shot back. “But I guess what you’re saying is you don’t like empty houses. You want to add them back.”

“Well,” she said, giving me a small smile, “we want to add something back. Something a little different.”

I tilted my head. “Different how?”

She rests her elbows on her desk. “A co-ed group, focused on networking and service. No formal rush, just applications. Zero tolerance on hazing.” She must see the skepticism on my face. “The goal would be to recruit students that have no desire for typical Greek life.”

“Why are you telling me about this?” I ask. The dust may have settled, but my nerves are still raw. “I have nothing to do with Greek life or building occupancy.”

“Because the Council wants you involved—they’d like you to be on the executive board.” She gives me a confident grin. “They think you’d be the perfect face and stamp of approval for this new venture.”

At first, I said no. Who wants the hassle? And it felt like a slippery slope back into trouble. But later, after I’d thought about for a while, a plan started to formulate. If the Chancellor really wants this to happen, she’ll go to someone else—someone who isn’t as invested in making a change. Why not take the opportunity for leadership to do this the right way—my way? So, ultimately, I agreed.

But with some stipulations.

I glance at the time. Two minutes until this meeting is supposed to formally start. I think for a minute none of them are going to show and I’m going to have to go back to the Chancellor and tell her it’s off.

“It may be easier if I knew who and what was about to happen,” Grayson prompts, resting his hands on my shoulders. His thumbs make tiny circles to relieve the tension. I almost cave, but I know if I do, the whole thing will blow up, more than I already expect it to.