Page 161 of Burn Bright

“Preferably wet,” someone snickers.

My jaw clenches. This sounds so fucking degrading for the girl. No wonder no one has won the bet in a decade, and honestly, I’m proud of the Honors House girls for not falling for whatever manipulative bullshit tactics these guys have attempted over the years.

I should just leave New York earlier than I planned. It’d ensure nothing else bad happens to my brothers, but the thought flexes every tendon in my neck.

Cutting things this short with Harriet hurts. I haven’t even made it to her birthday. That’s why I’m entertaining joining a frat.

Still, on moral instinct, I tell them, “This isn’t going to work for me.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Leif wonders.

All I picture is her round face, perpetual scowl, and yellowish-blonde hair. “It’s not that…”Is it?

“You’re Ben fucking Cobalt,” Prescott says with the raise of his beer. “I bet half the Honors girls would kill to say they fucked you.”

Leif hoists his bottle too. “If anyone can win this, it’s you, my man.”

“Woooo!” they holler, swigging beers in cheers.

“Just think about it,” Leif smiles, trying to pull one out of me but failing. “We’ll give you the rest of the day. You have my number.”

Of course I do.

37

HARRIET FISHER

Earbuds in and The Carraways blasting, I listen to Tom belt out an angsty chorus while I hike across campus. Trees rustle with a cool wind, the leaves beginning to change into a fiery orange as September ends.

I wonder how Ben is faring at Douche Row right now. Sure, Kappa wasn’t at fault for inviting a dickhead to a party who nearly drowned me, but they’re probably hungry for a piece of the Cobalt pie.

Picturing them taking a bite out of Ben gets my back up. No one is allowed to take a chunk out of him. Maybe I should’ve gone into law and not medicine. I could’ve fucking decreed it. Woven a gavel around. Flung that thing?—

“Fisher!”

I hear a faint yell, and I pry out my earbud, turning as Ben strides toward me with a long-legged, confident gait. His smile ignites as soon as he sees my face—which has to be resting at its normal scowling stasis.

My whole body goes light and airy. Has anyone ever been this happy to see me? Just him, probably. Emotion tries to rush, and I take some deep breaths to stop the overwhelming surge. ThenI shut off my music. He slows to my side with a protein shake in hand, and I’m more cognizant of themanyheads that’ve spun in our direction since he shouted my name.

“Sorry.” He notices them scrutinizing me.

“It can’t be worse than being caught in the quad with Xander. Three girls asked me in my morning lab if I was dating him, and I keep getting nasty spam through my MVU email address.”

He shakes his drink. “What do you mean?” Concern darkens his face.

While we walk together, I pull up my email and pass him my phone. “It’s junk mail. I’m guessing someone must’ve posted a pic of me and Xander online, and an internet savvy fan traced down my name, our college, and found my school email.”

His jaw muscle tics as he reads, “Go die, bitch. You don’t deserve Xander Hale.”

I pop a hard caramel candy in my mouth. “I didn’t say they were nice, Cobalt boy.”

“I hope you rethink your whole life and take your skank ass vagina to the sewer you came from.”

“That one did almost make me laugh.”

He’s not cracking even an itsy-bitsy smile. Instead, he’s deleting the emails for me. “Are they jumping in your socials too?”

“Nope. They haven’t found me there. My usernames are too creative, and I think it helps I don’t post a ton of face pics.” His concentration hasn’t let up on erasing the emails. “Friend—I will survive.”