Page 9 of Seeds of Friendship (University of Mountain Springs)

Thursday night. Two days until the party. We're all sprawled in the living room, Troy obsessively checking his party supplies list, when we hear it—voices outside, too many to be random foot traffic.

“The fuck?” Ethan peers through the window. “Oh shit. We've got company.”

Connor Matthews is standing on our lawn with five other Alpha Pi brothers, all wearing their letters like armor. One of them is holding something—spray paint cans.

“Are they seriously—” Troy starts.

The hiss of aerosol answers his question. Through the window, we watch Connor spray “LOSERS” across our front steps.

“Motherfucker,” I say through my teeth, already heading for the door.

“Wait,” Alfie says, but there's something different in his voice. Not caution—calculation. “All of us. Together. It’s more intimidating.”

We exchange glances. Then we move as one unit.

I yank open the door. “The fuck do you think you're doing?”

Connor turns, that same smug smile from before. “Just leaving a little message. Truth in advertising, right?”

“Get off our property,” Troy says, stepping up beside me.

“Or what?” Connor's brother Roland is there too—older, bigger, with the kind of confidence that comes from four years of running this campus. “You'll call campus security? Tell them what? That some concerned citizens are exercising their free speech?”

“Free speech doesn't include vandalism, asshole,” Ethan spits out.

One of the Alpha Pi guys laughs. “Vandalism? We're just decorating for your little party. Though I heard no one's coming, anyway.”

They're spreading out slightly, that subtle intimidation formation. Six of them, four of us. Roland's got probably thirty pounds on me, and his boys aren't small either.

“You know,” Alfie says suddenly, his voice cutting through the tension like ice, “this is fascinating.”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“Six grown men sneaking around at night to spray paint a house like middle schoolers.” He pulls out his phone, and I realize he's been recording. “Roland Matthews, right? Senior, business major, president of Alpha Pi?”

Roland's eyes narrow. “Put the phone away.”

“No, I don't think I will.” Alfie's voice is conversational, almost bored. “Now, I know you’re planning on joining an investment bank after graduation this year.” His face pales.

Oh shit, Alfie must be right. “But…Vandalism, harassment, conspiracy to commit property damage. And with video evidence?” He smiles, and it's genuinely unsettling.

“Your daddy's dealership money won't mean shit when the internet is done with you.”

The silence is deafening.

“Who the fuck do you think—” Roland yells.

“I’m Alfie Spencer.” Alfie examines his phone like he's checking the time.

“And you’re out of time. Now, you have two choices.

Leave now and never come near this house again, or I make one post on twitter and destroy your entire future.

Your fraternity's charter, your graduation, your job prospects—gone.” He finally looks up. “Your choice.”

Connor steps forward. “You can't just—”

“Connor,” Roland cuts him off, not taking his eyes off Alfie. “We're leaving.”

“But—”

“Now.”

They retreat, but Connor can't resist one last shot. “This isn't over. Your party's gonna be a disaster.”

“Looking forward to you watching from outside,” I call after them.

We stand there until they're out of sight, then head back inside. The “LOSERS” tag is still dripping on our steps.

“How did you know that about him?” Troy asks quietly.

Alfie shrugs uncomfortably. “My family…this is how they’ve taught me to deal with shit. Always make sure you know what your enemy wants and you’ve got power over them.”

“Dude,” Ethan says. “That’s fucked up. You’ve seen your family do this?”

Alfie’s eyes darken. “They’re not good people. I’d prefer if we don’t talk about them. I don’t like using their tactics, but…”

“But it fucking worked!” Troy claps him on the back.

Alfie shifts away from Troy and heads inside to the closet, pulling out cleaning supplies. “Now are we going to clean this shit up or you guys gonna continue staring at me like I've grown a second head?”

We grab supplies and head outside. It's weird—four guys who barely knew each other three weeks ago, scrubbing spray paint off concrete at midnight. But as we work, something shifts.

“Thanks,” Troy says to Alfie. “For that.”

“They touched our house,” Alfie says simply. “That's unacceptable.”

“Our house,” Ethan repeats, grinning. “Hear that? Alfie admitted it's our house. We’re becoming a real family, you guys!”

“Shut up and scrub.”

The paint's stubborn, but we work at it methodically.

“You know,” I say, “Connor's right about one thing. They're gonna try to sabotage the party.”

“Let them try,” Troy says. “We've got each other's backs, right?”

It should feel cheesy, like some after-school special moment. But looking at these three, it doesn't feel cheesy at all.

“Yeah,” I agree. “We do.”

“If this gets any more sentimental, I'm going inside,” Alfie warns, but he's almost smiling.

“Wait,” Ethan says suddenly. “The poster. Look.”

We turn to see Einstein through the window. Someone—probably Connor's asshole friends—had tried to spray paint it through the glass, leaving a weird red streak across Einstein's face.

“Fuckers,” Troy mutters.

But Ethan's grinning. “No, look at it. He looks badass now. Like war paint or something.”

He's not wrong. The red streak across Einstein's eye makes him look deranged in a weirdly cool way.

“We're keeping it like that,” I decide. “Battle scars.”

“Our house flag,” Troy agrees.

“You're all insane,” Alfie says, but he takes a picture of it with his phone.

By the time we finish cleaning, it's past 1 AM. The steps are mostly clean—you can still see a shadow of the letters, but fuck it. We tried.

“Two days,” Troy says as we head inside. “Think we're ready?”

“We better be,” I say. “Because after tonight? Alpha Pi's definitely coming for us.”

“Good,” Alfie says, surprising all of us. “I'm tired of their bullshit. If we're going to be outcasts, let's at least give them something to remember.”

Ethan whoops. “That's the spirit! Alfie's finally joined the dark side!”

“I've always been on the dark side. I just hide it better than you idiots.”

But as we crash in the living room playing video games, too wired to sleep, I realize something.

We're not just roommates anymore. Connor and his boys came for us, and we stood together.

Alfie put himself on the line for us. Troy's treating this house like it's worth protecting.

Ethan's already planning “revenge pranks” that we'll definitely have to talk him out of.

This is our house.

These are my boys.

And in two days, we're going to throw a party that will make Alpha Pi look like a church youth group.

“Hey,” I say into the darkness. “Thanks. All of you.”

“Lame,” Ethan mumbles, but I can hear the smile in his voice.

But nobody moves. We just sit there in our living room, under the watchful gaze of battle-scarred Einstein, four idiots who somehow became brothers.

Saturday can't come fast enough.