Page 5 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles – Yon & Imole

Lala slurped the last of her lemonade like she was tryna pull a secret out the straw.

“Okay but for real, you sure you ready for this? ‘Cause pledging Veta ain’t no cakewalk.”

Stormii nodded, swaying to the beat as she eyed the Veta line forming for the stroll.

“Sis, they don’t play. You blink too hard and they’ll make you do pushups. In heels.”

bit her lip, gaze flicking to the Veta Xi girls again. They were glowing. Every one of them: edges laid, skin poppin’, energy high. Confident. Loud without even speaking. And every time they stepped, the crowd parted like somebody yelled “Make way.”

“I mean…”

hesitated, then exhaled.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Lala’s eyes went wide.

“Wait! You for real?”

Stormii nearly dropped her cup.

“No take-backs, bitch. That’s a blood oath you just spoke.”

laughed, cheeks warming.

“I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it. Like, for real for real. I let fear talk me out of it last year, but this year? I want in.”

“You sure it’s not a certain Mega Man giving you courage?”

Lala teased.

rolled her eyes.

“It’s not about Yon.”

“It’s a little about Yon,”

Stormii added with a smirk.

didn’t deny it. She looked down at her hoodie, tugging it slightly.

“It’s about me. I spent too long hiding behind books and tutoring hours. I let acne, braces, that damn backbrace… all of it tell me I wasn’t built for this life. But that ain’t me anymore.”

Lala stepped closer, linking arms.

“That never was you. That was temporary.”

Stormii nodded, eyes soft for once.

“You’ve always had it. Now you just know it, too.”

The three of them stood still for a second, the night moving around them like music underwater.

Then a chant erupted from the Greek Garden. The Vetas hit the stroll path, arms locked, synchronized and sharp like blades.

The whole crowd backed up, phones out, energy electric.

“This is it,”

Lala said, voice low.

“We doing this or nah?”

“All for one,”

Stormii said, sticking out her pinky.

“One for all,”

smiled, hooking hers with theirs.

The promise felt different this time. Real. Like a chapter turning in the dark. Behind her, somewhere in the noise and flashing lights, she knew Yon was watching. But tonight wasn’t about hoping to catch his attention. Tonight, she decided to be the attention.

The bass dropped, and the crowd roared. turned just in time to see the Mega Phi Psi line stepping onto the stroll path.

“Here they go,”

Stormii whispered, clutching her cup like a clutch bag.

“Lord, hold my edges.”

The crowd parted like scriptures, giving the Megas room. They were all sharp lines and deep stomps, their black-and-gold jackets gleaming under the lights, movements precise, unified, and dangerous. A sea of confidence and control. could barely blink.

“Okay, this is not just a step,”

Lala murmured.

“This is a sermon.”

’s heart knocked against her ribs. Her eyes were glued to one person.

Yon.

Front and center, commanding every beat like it was made for him. Sweat glistened along his jawline, his shirt clinging to that carved frame like a second skin. His movements were clean and aggressive when they needed to be, smooth when it mattered most.

When they hit their signature formation; three hard stomps and a glide, Yon broke out the move that made the crowd lose it every time.

The lip lick.

Slow. Intentional. Disrespectful even, and sexy as hell.

And this time… his eyes didn’t scan the crowd like they usually did.

They locked on her.

felt her breath catch. Her skin heated. Her knees damn near betrayed her.

“Oh my God,”

Stormii whispered.

“He’s looking right at you.”

Lala leaned in.

“Girl… he sees you.”

couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away.

Yon didn’t break focus. His lips curled into the slightest smile, then he snapped back into the routine like he hadn’t just set her whole body on fire.

By the time the Megas closed their set and the crowd exploded around them, ’s heart was still hammering.

She swallowed hard.

“Okay,”

she finally exhaled.

“Okay, what?”

Stormii asked.

“I think I am going to that party tomorrow night.”

Terrence “Tree” Chambers

Tree had been watching Yon since the day he stepped foot on campus.

From the jump, Yon had it all. The respect, the spotlight, the leadership role in Mega Phi Psi that Tree thought should’ve been his if he’d chosen to go that route. But Phi Ro was the family legacy, and legacy mattered. His uncle had built their chapter house, his cousin ran half the social board, and his last name came with weight. He didn’t need to earn clout, in his mind he was the shit.

Still, everywhere Tree turned, people weren’t whispering about him, they were whispering about Yon Dawson III. Yon was smart, disciplined and humble. Everything Tree wasn’t and didn’t want to be. Tree was street smart, a hustler, arrogant to a fault and hood famous.

Tree hated it.

He hated the way girls looked at Yon like he was chosen. Hated the way professors respected him. The way deans called him into meetings and trusted his voice on “student matters.”

Hell, even security gave him a nod like he was some damn prince of the campus.

“You ever notice how he walk around like he better than everybody?”

Tree had once said to his frat brothers.

“Man just minding his business,”

one shrugged.

“Nah. That’s the problem,”

Tree spat.

“He do nothing, and y’all crown him king.”

What started as petty jealousy became a full-on obsession.

Tree started small by leaking old screenshots from a freshman-year girl Yon dated, spreading rumors about him cheating. Then he made sure Yon’s chapter got banned from hosting parties for a semester — a few well-placed calls to the university about "disturbances." Nothing traceable.

But, none of it stuck.

Yon never acknowledged him. Never reacted. Never bit.

That burned Tree deeper than anything.

How dare he not see him as a threat?

“You think you untouchable?”

Tree had once mumbled under his breath after passing Yon on the quad.

“We’ll see.”

The night Tree really decided to go after him was the night he saw Yon talking to .

Her.

The quiet one with the sharp mouth and deep eyes. The one who didn’t fall all over Tree the way other girls did. The one who actually seemed to mattered to Yon. She was nothing like the other girls he saw Yon with. Hell, Tree wanted since the day he saw her. Yeah, she wore that stiff ass back brace, and had a mouth full of metal, but she was cute, and smart. He just never got around to pressing up on her.

Bingo.

That was the first domino.

If Tree couldn’t beat Yon on respect, he’d beat him by taking something he was interested in. Tree could always tell when a nigga was in his feelings and the way Yon was acting he was catching vibes bad about . That stupid grin gave it away. I had caught him slippin and I was going to enjoy tearing him down brick by brick.

Tree didn’t want to outshine Yon. He wanted to erase him.

The beat dropped like thunder, and Tree stomped hard, the wood of the stage vibrating under his Timbs. The crowd roared, caught between awe and adrenaline. The Phi Rhos moved in tight formation, every clap, stomp, and chest pop echoing with aggression and flair.

They had something to prove.

“Phi Rho ain't dead! We just been plotting!”

That was the line Tree screamed at the mic before they hit their final pose, their fists raised, backs straight, sweat glistening under the stage lights.

The crowd went crazy.

But it wasn’t just the performance. It was their comeback.

The Phi Rhos had been on shaky ground since those hazing allegations last year — public probation, a handful of deactivations, whispers about their chapter possibly being shut down. But tonight? Tree was determined to remind everyone who the real kings of Greek Row were.

He ripped his shirt off as they exited the stage, dapping up frat brothers, nodding at groupies, soaking in the spotlight like he was baptized in it.

Then his eyes found Yon.

Standing cool and unbothered with his Mega Phi Psi crew by the back entrance. No flashy movements, no loud talking just arms folded, eyes watching, like he already knew how this night would go.

Tree smirked.

"Yo, what's good, big man?" Tree called out as he approached, voice loud enough to cut through the music. "Y’all thought the Mighty Megas was the only Frat that could shut down the house? Luckily, we shut that shit down. I guess they always save the best for last."

Yon didn’t flinch.

“Y’all did okay. Yelled a lot. Stomped harder than usual. Trying to cover up all them scandals and mistakes?”

A few oooohs rippled from the crowd nearby.

Tree’s frat brothers shifted, but he raised a hand, grinning.

“Ah, I see how it is. Always talking shit, huh? That’s alright. I’m not even here for the noise tonight,”

Tree said. His eyes slid past Yon. Right to .

She stood beside Lala, clapping lightly at the show but clearly uneasy now that Tree had locked onto her. She looked away but not fast enough.

Tree took a step toward her, ignoring the way Yon shifted to stand in his path.

“Well damn, . I know I was working that stage, but I didn’t know I was working you, too. You good, ma? You looked like you needed a strong arm to lean on.”

She didn’t answer, but her face tightened.

Yon moved in front of her completely now.

“I think she’s good,”

Yon said, voice calm, firm.

“Fall back.”

Tree grinned wider, the predator in him loving every second of the heat between them.

"Aww, that's cute. Big bro mode activated. Ain’t you and Shawna still fuckin? I’m tryna figure out why you over here blockin."

“You really want to take it there, Tree?”

Yon said, stepping closer, face now just inches away.

“'Cause if you do, I promise you, this won’t end with a step show.”

Tension crackled like broken glass underfoot. The crowd was quiet now, watching. Waiting.

Tree leaned in close enough to whisper.

“You can’t protect her from me, Yon. Not on stage. Not in real life. I don’t need to be on campus to make my presence felt.”

Then, just as quickly, he backed off with a smirk and two mocking claps.

"Yon, the semester just getting started. I’ll see you, playa,”

he laughed.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a real interesting year if you keep this up.”

As he walked away, one of his frat brothers asked under his breath, “You good, Tree?” Tree never broke stride.

“I’m better than good. I’m just getting started.”