The Dead House

Even though most fraternity houses at Hargrave had catered meals prepared in their commercial kitchens, the Dead House had a secret weapon: Frederico Sanchez Muñoz.

His parents ran one of the trendiest eateries in Miami, and Fred had come to university armed with a recipe book and years of experience in a kitchen.

Sam swore that Fred had been chosen for his ability with languages and the fact that he was on the champion rowing team. I was pretty sure, however, that his culinary skills had definitely been factored in.

Bobo managed the budget and made weekly shopping lists. Sam was a Boston native and had a car for Fresh Market runs.

Will was Fred’s sous chef, so I’d been assigned to manage the dining room as well as beverage ordering.

The guys were highly organized, and I enjoyed being part of their community. Besides, Fred’s food was fine dining compared to what they served in the cafeteria.

It was a Thursday night, and we were discussing potential candidates for the last opening over dinner. Sam was hell-bent on constructing his small-scale American Utopia inside our four walls.

“We have a few new potentials but only one more spot!” Bobo said, waving his fork. His ability to find out things about people rivaled that of an intelligence agency.

“Hussein is Moroccan, Muslim, and great at basketball,” Bobo showed a picture on his tablet. “Then there is Jaisal. He’s Hindu and on the swim team.”

Nobody said anything. Was this how they had talked about me? How many others had they dismissed before I’d been chosen?

“So, these guys are being selected based on what exactly?” I asked curiously.

“Hargrave is already one of the most inclusive universities in the country. Every imaginable minority has been absorbed into its many fraternities and sororities,” Sam explained. “Those that aren’t tend to stick to their own.”

“These guys are outliers or loners. If they’re alone by choice, they usually reject our offer,” Fred added, pouring himself a glass of water.

“You figured me for a loner?” I asked, suddenly curious.

“Actually, you seemed more overwhelmed by the size of this place,” Will said in his quiet voice. “I can definitely relate.”

Will and I had caught up on each other’s backgrounds over the last few days. We were both small-town kids and grew up on the opposite side of popularity for different reasons. I was honestly surprised to learn that he hadn’t been considered the de facto Prom King because he had high school jock written all over him.

“How about Alexei? Russian American, self-proclaimed witch, and genderfluid. They say he has an IQ that rivals most of the current Faculty.”

“Fuck!” Fred said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I vote for that guy!”

“Hell yes!” Sam added, checking the guy’s picture.

“I wouldn’t mind the guy from India,” Bobo said.

“I think Hussein would significantly add to our diversity,” Will commented.

“You’re the swing vote, Patrick,” Sam said.

“Guys, I’m just happy to be part of this weird and wonderful gang. I really don’t have a preference.”

“Alexei it is!” Sam declared.

***

Sam approached Alexei alone and had been flat-out laughed at.

“I don’t like discrimination, even when it sounds positive,” Alexei had claimed.

A second vote brought Jaisal into our house, but he was not so thrilled with Will. He didn’t understand what Type I Bipolar Disorder meant and decided that he wasn’t comfortable with it.

We stopped trying until our first social event took care of the issue for us.

Sam wanted to host our opening soiree once we were “complete,” but the others had run out of patience.

Bobo was itching for a real American experience: booze, bongs, and babes. Was that really the image that foreigners had of our university life?

Apparently, Fred and I were the only ones looking forward to playing beer pong. Will didn’t drink due to his condition.

Sam had envisioned an intimate evening with a few members from other houses.

I’d learned that both his parents were Hargrave Law graduates and I surmised that the Dead House was his way of leaving a mark.

Apart from his family’s wealth and his so-called sophisticated upbringing, Sam didn’t seem to have any exceptional skills or talents. I did have to admit that he was very confident and charming.

Eventually, we compromised on beer pong in the study room after Sam’s pretentious “cocktail reception.” We invited a manageable amount of people so they wouldn’t trash the place.

Needless to say, the party quickly got out of hand.

I was getting more ice for the bar when Will walked in with a guy in a black knee-length skirt, a matching tight tank top, and army boots. He wore purple lipstick and had his jet-black hair tied up in a top knot. He was far from effeminate, but his poise didn’t ooze macho bravado either.

“Alexei, this is Patrick,” Will said enthusiastically.

“Hey,” Alexei said in a gravely baritone.

I stuck out my hand in greeting.

“Oh, I don’t do handshakes,” he said. “There’s no way of knowing where that hand’s been, especially in a frat house.”

I stared at him in shock. Was he for real?

“Chill! I’m just kidding,” he said, his face breaking into a wide smile. He pulled me in for a hug and…smelled my hair?! What the fuck?

“Love your shampoo,” he said, pouring himself a vodka in a shot glass.

Will was grinning at me like a fool. I instinctively understood what he was thinking. Alexei was the perfect fit for our little house of horrors.

“How about we make this a real party with a game of spin the bottle?” Alexei said. “There are plenty of handsome girls and pretty boys to kiss.”

Holy fuck! This guy was a riot!

Alexei was almost out of the kitchen when he turned around and said, “I’m paying only half the grocery fees because I’m vegan.”

“Sure,” Will said without a moment’s hesitation.

Did this mean that he was joining us?

***

I simply had to watch Alexei’s game. In the living room, a crowd had already gathered around the people sitting on the floor.

“I like to play this game blind,” Alexei announced.

Most of the people in the circle already had bloodshot eyes from the booze, the bong, or both.

Then, Alexei pulled off his tank top, revealing a strong torso and two pierced nipples. He had a vial of something hanging around his neck and a half-sun, half-moon tattoo circling his belly button.

He yanked hard at the thin fabric, which easily ripped. Making six blindfolds, he handed them to the people sitting around him: two guys, and three girls.

“Can I ask the audience to help guide us?” he asked. Everyone nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m way too drunk for this,” one of the guys in the circle said. He was definitely not on our guest list.

Alexei looked up and our eyes met for a single second. My heart constricted at the thought of sitting in that circle.

“I’ll take his place,” Will volunteered. What the fuck? Why?

Everyone had their blindfolds on and a pretty girl from one of the sororities spun first. It landed on a girl with short hair and glasses that I recognized from my seminars but had never met. The audience gently guided them, and they gave each other a chaste kiss.

“Boring!” Bobo called from where he was hanging over the upstairs railing.

A second spin had the girl with the glasses kiss a guy called Jonathan or something, he was captain of the wrestling team.

The game continued and I was constantly holding my breath. I’d come to care for my roommate and didn’t want him to get humiliated in any way. I also desperately wanted to see Alexei kiss someone, finding the very idea of him utterly fascinating.

My brain had chosen not to see the obvious. On Alexei’s very first spin, it landed on none other than William Hessington Jr. I sucked in a breath and held it, unable to look away but feeling very conflicted about what was about to happen.

Their heads were brought closer, and I hoped it would be over quickly. Alexei grabbed Will by the back of the head with one hand and let the fingers of the other trail down his neck.

My roommate instinctively opened his mouth, and I watched Alexei stick out his tongue before pressing it between Will’s teeth. The kiss went far beyond the boundaries of the game and when Alexei let go of Will and removed his blindfold, his eyes rested on me once again.

It was only a split second, but I somehow knew that he had been in complete control of his game from the very start. Will just sat there with his blindfold still on, his fingers pressed to his lips.

I needed a break and fled upstairs. I walked past Sam and Fred’s room, where our master chef’s ass was moving up and down, making a blond chick moan loudly in his ear.

Bobo was sucking on his bong in his room, so I disappeared into mine.

This Alexei guy was definitely something else, but I felt like he was already disturbing our balance.

Actually, it was more like he was playing us.