23. Devin

23

DEVIN

I t's been a few days since the toy drive event, but I still can't shake the sick feeling twisting in my gut. I've tried focusing on my upcoming finals, tried drowning myself in textbooks and notes, but nothing sticks. No matter how hard I push myself to concentrate, my thoughts keep drifting back to Tessa—back to the way she ran off, humiliated.

This is what we wanted, isn't it? To crush her once and for all, to make sure she knew she was messing with the wrong people. So why doesn't it feel like a win?

I slam my book shut in frustration and decide I need to clear my head. Maybe talking to someone will help. Standing up, I head down to the kitchen where Matteo is making something on the stove.

"Hey," I say, sitting at the counter across from him.

He turns, giving me a nod. His expression is tight. "What's up?" he asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. His voice is steady, but there's something off in his tone.

I run my fingers through my hair. "I…I can't stop thinking about the other night, at the event," I admit.

Matteo's gaze sharpens, and he doesn't say anything for a moment. Finally, he sighs, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. What was all that?"

"We were just trying to get back at her," I mutter.

Matteo turns back to his food, silent for a long moment. "So what were you hoping to accomplish?"

His question throws me off. I stare, the words stuck in my throat. What did I want to accomplish? I'd thought it was about protecting the frat, about getting Tessa to back off once and for all. But now, sitting here, I can't come up with a real answer. Not one that makes any sense.

"I…I don't know," I admit, my voice quieter than I want it to be. "We thought it would work. We thought it would finally get her to leave us alone."

Matteo turns, his jaw tightening, eyes narrowing. "Did you think humiliating her like that would make her stop? Or did you just want to tear her down because it made you feel better in the moment?"

His words hit harder than I expect, and I look away, ashamed. I don't have an answer. Not a good one, anyway. What had we accomplished by doing this? We didn't protect Sigma Theta. We just…hurt her for no reason other than the fact that we could.

Matteo shakes his head, clearly not satisfied with my silence. "You're better than this, Devin. We all are. Or at least, we should be."

I nod, but I don't feel better. "I'm just sick of feeling jerked around by that woman," I complain. "Every time we try to give her a chance, she ends up making a fool of us."

"Does she?" Matteo asks, holding out a spoon for me. I open my mouth and taste the chili. "Tell me if it needs anything," he adds.

"Could use a bit more heat," I tell him. "And some more garlic?"

He nods and turns back to the pot, seasoning it the way I suggested. "You know, Valencia and I had a lot to work through at the beginning of our relationship," he says as he stirs the food. "She was one of the girls that those pricks took advantage of. She was reluctant to get close to me at first because of it. And it was hard for her to trust me."

I had forgotten that he and Valencia met amid all the trial stuff. "What did you do?" I ask.

"She pulled away a lot, but I gave her space to come back to me. When she felt like she was ready, she opened up about what happened. Was it hard to hear? Yes, but I tried never to make it about myself."

"So you think we're taking Tessa's lack of trust personally?" I ask, trying to figure out where he's going with his story.

"I think that Tessa was heavily involved in everything that happened," he says, his tone careful and measured. "I think that even if she wasn't one of the victims, she worked closely with them and heard their stories."

I consider this. It must have been difficult to hear about all that horrible stuff over and over for every interview.

Matteo clears his throat, continuing. "I think she's been trying to protect herself from getting hurt, understandably so, and maybe she hasn't gone about it the right way. But she's probably ready to write us all off now, thinking that we're the same as those bastard ex-brothers who got away with hurting people for so long."

Matteo is probably right. His words are brutally truthful, hard to hear, but exactly what I needed. We've been assholes and it's not surprising that Tessa wants to hurt us.

"Fuck, we totally screwed up, didn't we?" I ask, turning the thought over in my mind. "I can't believe we let ourselves get so carried away." I bury my head in my hands, groaning as I realize how badly the situation has gotten away from us.

Matteo taps me on the shoulder. "Try this," he says, holding the spoon out. I take a bite and my eyes water, the spice level much, much stronger now.

"Shit," I wheeze out, grabbing for my water bottle. I take a long swig and put it down. "Could use more spice," I joke, voice hoarse.

"Good. Valencia likes spicy food," Matteo says with a wide grin.

"I'm going to head out," I tell him. "Need to get the taste of burning tongue out of my mouth." I think I'm also going to find Tessa and see if I can start making amends. Matteo nods.

"Good luck," he says, waving me off. I know he knows that I'm going to go find Tessa so I thank him and head out the door.

It's cold this evening, a layer of snow on the ground and I feel it crunch underfoot as I walk across campus to her dorm. The air bites through my jacket, making me pull it tighter around me.

When I finally reach Tessa's dorm, I stand there for a moment, my breath fogging in the air, nerves gnawing at me. I've been here before, but it feels different now. I knock and wait, hoping I can find the right words.

The door opens just a crack. Tessa's standing there, but something's off. Her eyes dart past me, like she's worried someone else might be watching.

"Tessa," I say quietly, trying to meet her gaze. "Can we talk? Please."

Her eyes flick back to me, guarded, tense. "What do you want, Devin?"

"I wanted to apologize. For everything." I swallow, my throat tight. "I know I screwed up. We all did. I…I just want to make things right."

She hesitates, the door still only open a sliver. Her fingers tighten on the edge of it. "Now's not a good time."

I frown. There's more here. It's not just anger—there's something else simmering beneath the surface. "Can I come in? Just for a minute? I want to explain?—"

"I said it's not a good time." Her voice sharpens, but there's something brittle about it. Her eyes won't settle on me, like she's holding something back.

"I know we've been at each other's throats," I say, pushing past the knot in my stomach. "But we don't have to keep doing this. Let me help. Whatever's going on, I can?—"

"I don't need your help," she snaps, finally meeting my eyes, her anger flaring up again. But there's something else mixed in—a hesitation she's trying to hide. "Just…go away."

I take a step forward, not willing to give up yet. "Tessa, if something's wrong, you can tell me. I know I've messed things up, but you don't have to handle this alone."

Her eyes flash, and for a moment, I think she's going to yell. But instead, her face twists, like she's caught between saying too much and saying nothing at all. "Just leave me the fuck alone. You've done enough damage already."

"I'm trying to fix things," I exclaim, frustration bubbling up. "But you're not giving me a chance."

"I don't owe you anything, Devin." Her voice cracks on the last word, and she glances away, gripping the door tighter. "Just…go. Please."

The softness in her voice throws me off.

"Tessa, if something's going on?—"

"Go!" she interrupts, the word sharper this time, but her body is tense. She shifts, half hiding behind the door. "I can't do this right now. Just leave me alone."

I open my mouth to argue, but the look in her eyes stops me cold. The door closes softly, leaving me standing there, heart pounding in the icy air. I stare at the wood for a moment, my mind spinning. How can I fix things if I can't even talk to her about the issues?

I pull my jacket tighter, stepping back from her door, the cold seeping into my bones. Whatever's going on with Tessa, I'm not sure I'll ever figure it out. But for now, all I can do is walk away, feeling hurt and more confused than ever.

The cold bites into my skin as I trek back to the frat. I realize I should've grabbed a heavier coat, but I hadn't been thinking straight when I left. I was too wrapped up in our conversation, too eager to fix the mess I'd helped create.

But in the end, it hadn't even mattered. Tessa refused to hear me out so there was nothing more I could do.

As I reach Sigma Theta, I decide that I need to stop worrying about what I can't change and focus instead on my priorities—the upcoming finals and my role in the frat. I may not be able to fix everything with Tessa, but I can keep from making the same mistakes moving forward.

Once I'm inside, I hang up my coat on the rack, my phone buzzing from inside my jacket pocket. I reach in and grab it, not recognizing the number at first.

"Hello?" I say, wondering who might be calling so late in the evening.

"Devin Cash? This is Selma Drake from the dean's office. Dean Harrison would like to have a meeting with you at your earliest convenience."

My stomach drops.