Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Sail rubbed his towel over his wet hair, shook it briefly until his head started hurting again, and called it good. As he looked at the books on the floor, he had no clue which ones he’d need for class today and opted to “forget” them. He rummaged around his room, found his backpack, which had his schedule in there, and swore under his breath. According to the time, he had ten minutes to get his ass across campus.
He came to the end of the hallway and shook his head. There was a guy, asleep or still passed out, on the stairs leading to the third floor. When he looked down the staircase, he saw bodies strategically placed on the stairs, allowing for people to zig and zag their way up and down. Sail was about to yell at everyone to wake up, but he couldn’t muster the strength. One of his other brothers would do it later.
Sail sidestepped another group of undergrads and walked toward the living room to see which of his brothers was awake and watching TV. Another group of co-eds were asleep on the floor. The television was on, but no one seemed to be watching. He grimaced at the odor emanating from one guy on the floor and saw a brown stain on the kid’s backside.
“Jesus,” he muttered as he pressed his nostrils closed. Sail looked around at the bodies, trying to see if he recognized any of them. None of their faces rang a bell and none looked like they lived in the house with him.
He recognized one freshman from rush week and nudged him with his toe. “Get up,” Sail said a few times before the kid began moving. “Get these people out of the house.”
“Yes, sir,” the teen mumbled as he sat up. Sail thought the kid would make a great zombie for their annual Halloween party.
Sail stood there and surveyed the damage to the living room. This had been their third or fourth party—he couldn’t remember—and someone or a bunch of someones had already trashed the walls. Last spring, he and his brothers had spent the week deep cleaning the house before moving out so the school wouldn’t get pissed at them.
He walked by the staircase again. The white ornate railing was dirty, along with the wooden planks leading to the second and third floor. The best thing they had done to this house was to remove all the carpet. Hardwood was easier to clean.
Sail shook his head. He nudged the guy closest to him and repeated the same thing he’d said to the zombie in the other room.
“Why me?” the kid grumbled.
“Because I said so. Now get your ass out of here.”
Sail was pissed. Being pissed off and hungover didn’t go well together. The kid had no right to question his authority. He was president of the fraternity, and everyone needed to do as he demanded.
He muttered a string of obscenities as he made his way into the kitchen, stepping over yet another co-ed. The kitchen was a mess. Red cups, beer bottles, an overturned keg, and who knew what littered the floor. The house really needed to get their act together before the . . . he swallowed hard at the sight of the dean of students sitting at their table with pizza boxes, half-eaten pizza, and Sail didn’t want to guess what else piled high.
“Good afternoon, Sail.” Dean Holmes sat with his hands clasped together. He wore a light blue blazer with a matching shirt and bowtie. He and Sail were not friends.
“Mr. Holmes.” Sail gave him a nod.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Dean Holmes motioned at the chair across from him. Sail swallowed hard and pulled the chair out. He cringed when he reached for the pile of clothes, feeling a wet spot on them. Sail wanted to gag but thought better of it. He reached for a towel and wiped his hand, and didn’t even want to guess what the wetness was from. Already, he’d seen some poor kid passed out with shit in his pants. There wasn’t much more Sail could take this morning.
The dean set a folder onto the table and looked—no, he glared—at Sail and then shook his head. “Do you know what I have here?”
“No, sir.”
“This . . .” He held up the rather thick file. “Is a list of complaints filed by your peers, professors, and the community. All from this year,” Dean Holmes said. “We’re what?” he paused and looked at his watch. “Three weeks into the school year? I think this is some type of record.”
Probably the not record Sail wanted.
Sail cleared this throat and opened his mouth, only to close it right away. There wasn’t anything he could say that would change why the dean was in the house and sitting at their table.