The same guy called, “But aren’t you planning to enter your father’s company when you graduate?”
“I’m going to graduate school next year. That’s all the comment I can give.” I headed straight for the front desk. The clerk looked up, and I said, “Do you have a newspaper?”
“Of course, Mr. Charles. I’ll send one to your room.”
“Thanks.”
Not even daring to look over my shoulder, my heart pounding in my ears, I toggled the elevator button and bolted into the first one that arrived. What the fuck has my father done now? I wanted to get some information before I called him. Scrolling through my phone wasn’t getting me far, but the guy with the newspaper arrived at my room at the same time I did.
“Thanks.” I tipped him and let myself in.
Except for financing extra beer and pizza for the frat, I almost never used my money, at least not conspicuously. But hell, if I got to stay in a nice room with a king-sized bed and view of the City Hall, by myself, after living with twelve guys all year, I’d gladly charge it to my considerable line of credit.
I kicked off my shoes and flopped on the bed with the paper. I sure as fuck didn’t have to search to find the story. Right on page one, above the fold.
Fracking Company Poisons Ground Water. Two Children Hospitalized.
I sighed long and slow and gripped the bridge of my nose. “Oh fuck, Dad.” Flopping back against the pillows, I picked up the phone and pressed send.
It rang twice, and then that familiar voice that was Tommy Lee Charles said, “Rand! My son actually calling me. Whatcha need?”
“I just saw the news. What the hell is going on, sir?”
He blew against the phone. “The Williamsport site was using excessive chemicals and leaked into the groundwater. We caught the chem imbalance and corrected it, but we didn’t know about the water issue.”
“Fuck, Dad. You’re supposed to be testing.”
He was quiet for a couple seconds too long, then said, “We did.” He sighed. “It didn’t get in the drinking water. The kids were in a swimming pool.”
“In April?”
“It was indoor. And the papers make it sound worse than it was. Goddamn bloodhounds. The kids won’t have any lasting damage or anything.”
Je-sus Christ. I forced my fingers to unclench. “Are you at the site now?”
“No, but I will be in the morning. Look, I’m taking care of this. Don’t worry about it.”
No way was I going to not worry about it. Not when reporters were dogging me in hotel lobbies—and when two kids were hurt. “I’m going to meet you there tomorrow. I’m in Philadelphia so it’s on my way.”
“What the hell are you doing in Philadelphia?”
“Fraternity business. I’ll see you at the site. And I hope you have one solid-gold remediation plan and a way to compensate the families.” As if anything could compensate for harming two kids. And what if they hadn’t been okay? What if it had been worse?
“I said don’t worry about it. The lawyers are lawyering. All a part of doing business. No big deal.”
“It doesn’t have to be a big deal to be a big deal. That’s the point. I’ve got one word for you.”
“Plastics?” He laughed at his play on the old line from The Graduate.
“Renewables. We’ve got to move on this, Dad.”
“Yeah well, fracking ain’t going anywhere in my lifetime, junior. And after that, you can worry about it.” He hung up.
I threw my phone across the bed. “Fuck that. I already am.” Frustration burned inside me. I had to find a way to get him to listen. And I would. After I completed my MBA, I’d be around him and the business all the time—enough to make myself heard.
My watch said I’d probably missed the second-division group, but I could still catch the big finale. It’d be nice to just lay back and watch TV for a while, but I’d come all this way to show support for Jesse and PJ, and I shouldn’t blow the chance. After all, they’d obviously worked their asses off for Quiz Bowl. In Jesse’s case, pretty literally.
Man, Jesse and Dobbs doing the deed.
Dobbs was openly gay.
Like Jax.
That thought made me shiver so hard, I grabbed my phone and hurried out the door.
Chapter Two
Jax
Wow. It all came down to this. The final round of the Quiz Bowl nationals. Division two was over, and our team had come in second place a few hours ago. That was the best our division-two team had ever done. Now it was the big boys on stage—the ultimate in Quiz Bowl, college division one.
The final showdown was between Harvard and Sigma Mu Tau. At our team table were Dobbs, Felix, Sai, and Jesse. The team that won this round would be the top Quiz Bowl team in the nation—with a trophy, a write-up in international papers, a nice fat check, and bragging rights for life. But I liked to look at the Zen side. Even if our team lost this round, we’d still be second nationwide. In other words, it was all good.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.
I’d come to the tournament as the frat house president and as a team alternate. But I hadn’t been needed. Our guys were all more than eager and ready to compete, even Jesse Knox, the ALA frat guy who’d been forced upon us. Turns out, Jesse wasn’t bad.
I sat back in my chair, arms folded over my chest. My frat bro Sean was on my left and Jorge on my right. They were both gripping anything they could find—the bottom of the plastic chairs we were sitting in, Bubba’s hand, my leg. I was chill though. Like I said—it was all good.
Harvard had lost to us before lunch, but they’d come to this final round hopped up, practically vibrating. They were lightning fast on their buzzers. But then, so were we. The whole room was on edge. No one even coughed as the questions were read and the buzzers resounded.
There were three science questions in a row, and Jesse got two of them. Dang. He really had gotten good. Then there were history questions, which became a battlefield between Sai and a Harvard guy. Harvard got two and Sai got one. Harvard beat SMT on a politics question and racked up bonus points.
Sean leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I’m about to expire. Only two questions left and Harvard is up by ten. How do you stay so calm?”
I shrugged. “Second place. First place. It’s in the hands of fate.”
He gave me a disbelieving look. “What? You didn’t say that when you were Quiz Bowl captain my freshman year.”
One corner of my mouth turned up in acknowledgment. Sean was right. I’d pushed the guys when I’d been team captain, but probably not as hard as I should have. I wasn’t ambitious enough. Dobbs was a way better captain. He desperately wanted to win the title.
When you grow up in as big a family as I had, you learned not to want anything too desperately. Because sure as shit, some sibling would get there first. Or hold it out of your grasp just because they could. Not much was worth sweating over.
The second-to-the-last question was on microchip technology. Dobbs buzzed in first and answered it correctly, earning ten points. Then we got all three bonus questions for another thirty. Now SMT was ahead by thirty points with only one question left. Still, it was anyone’s game. As many as 45 points could be earned in a single question set if the team got all the bonus questions right. And at this level of play, they usually did. So whoever buzzed in quickest on this last question would win.