Page 69 of Tell Me I'm Enough

“Shut up and save it, Sinclair,” she fires back. “You know, you’re lucky we didn’t get kicked off Greek Row last night.”

She steps further into the house, hands on her hips, surveying the chaos like she owns our house the same way she owns hers.

Honestly, she’s kind of terrifying, so I don’t try to push her with any of the jokes I want to make.

“The university sent warnings to both our houses,” she says. “So, as punishment, I brought all the first-years over to help you clean. Consider it…a team-building exercise.”

One of the pledges beside her whispers, “We’re being punished fortheirmess?”

Madison snaps her fingers without looking at the girl, warning her to shut it.

“All of us represent Greek life,” she says. “Last night was a co-party, so if they go down, we go down too. Now, boys, pick a girl and put her to work.”

Well, this just became a bigger headache.

The guys all instantly perk up like dogs that just heard the word ‘treat’, rushing over to pick the hottest girl they can probably find.

I scan the group of girls, and my gaze lands on Simone. She’s already watching me with a smug look on her face.

Okay, never mind. Maybe this could actually be fun.

“You already know you’re with me,” I tell her, waving her over.

She huffs, arms crossing. “Umm, I think I’d rather go with Tank. He’s nicer.”

From the kitchen, Tank’s head pops out. “Hell yeah, I am.”

I snort. “No, he’s just lazy and won’t make you do anything.”

“Same thing,” she says mockingly.

I can’t help but laugh a little. “Nah, you’re not getting off easy, and I’m in need of some good company this morning.”

I see some of the other Gamma girls roll their eyes like they’re annoyed at her that I didn’t pick them.

Sorry…have better personalities? And maybe stop trying to get in my pants. I’m a respectable young man for crying out loud. I would like to be treated as such.

“If this is some ploy to boss me around all morning, I want it on record that I didn’t have a choice,” she says, going to put her bag down on a table and then thinking better of it when she sees its current state. “And I’m not into that kink.”

“Trust me,” I tell her, handing her a fresh trash bag and motioning for her to give me her bag to put somewhere safe and not exposed to all the diseases that are currently probably having a rager in this room, “if I wanted to boss people around, I’d pick someone who listens.”

She makes a face before actually thinking about it. “Yeah, no, that would make more sense. I guess I just didn’t know ifyouwere smart enough to realize that.”

“You’re on cup duty. Start over there.” I point to the cluster of side tables by the windows. “Everything that’s plastic or paper goes in the bag. Anything that’s glass, put on the counter. And if you find my dignity anywhere, let me know. I lost it around midnight.”

“Oh, trust me, I saw it run out the front door last night when you were letting the girls use you like a human stripper pole on top of—“ She looks around and then points to the pool table. “—that table right there. It ain’t coming back.”

I smirk and go back to pulling empty beer cans out of the bookshelf. “You wound me, girl.”

For a while, it’s just noise and movement—trash crinkling, bottles clinking, and music turned loud enough to keep the energy going. The house slowly shifts from ‘crime scene’ to ‘college pigsty,’ which is about the best we ever get around here.

“Do you guys ever…clean when youhaven’tbeen threatened by the school?” Simone asks after a bit, moving over to the coffee table to stack cups.

“Define clean,” I say.

She shoots me a look. “Like…wipe things. Use soap. Mop.”

“We use the Swiffer sometimes,” I say. “You’d be surprised what a candle and Febreze can do.”