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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On Sunday, Teegan and I go out to lunch with a few freshmen AOPis after church, and they’re peppering me with questions about my relationship with Mateo. I haven’t filled Teegan in on last night yet, but she seems pleased enough with my level of swooning, plus reports from Amaya, to be satisfied with the conversation. Still, as we leave the restaurant, she leans in and whispers, “You realize I need more details than you just fed to the freshmen.”
Laughing, I loop my arm through hers. “Promise. How did rehearsal go last night?”
I get a full rundown on the progress they’ve made on showcase, including her scolding of the guys from Alpha Epsilon who were goofing off instead of taking it seriously. Teegan is sweet and sociable ninety-nine percent of the time, but feisty Teegan lets loose if people start messing with something (or someone) she cares about. Feisty Teegan is terrifying, so I have no doubt that all those boys will be straitlaced at the next rehearsal.
We’re walking into the AOPi foyer when the girl on door duty this morning stops me with a huge smile. “Oh Lanaaaaa,” she sing songs. “You had a surprise dropped off by an extremely hot delivery guy while you were gone.” She hands me a vibrant bouquet of flowers tied up in brown paper and twine, the signature wrapping of Grow Wild, a local floral and gift shop in Center Square. There’s an envelope with my name tucked inside, and I flush and smile as Teegan and the other girls squeal around me.
Teegan acts as a bodyguard, ushering me through the high-pitched calls for me to read the card aloud to everyone. “No comment; no pictures!” she feigns as we sprint up the stairs. Of course, the second we’re alone in our room, she’s the one demanding for me to read it aloud, which I refuse to do until I’ve previewed the contents.
I carefully slide my finger under the seal of the gray-blue envelope and find a card with a watercolor design inside. Mateo definitely stepped up his stationary game, even though I loved the notebook paper just as much.
Lana,
Thanks for arguably the best weekend of my life. I’m pretty sure I’m living in a dream, so I’m not going to pinch myself.
Mateo
Apparently Mateo’s smolder is just as effective via written words as via his deep brown eyes and dimpled smile, because my insides are once again vaporized. I decide this is a bone I can throw to Teegan, so I surrender the card to her greedy hands.
“You know, we could frame this and post it right here on the wall above the desk,” Teegan says. “No, let’s post it downstairs in the foyer so that any boy who dares to dream of dating an AOPi knows the standard he needs to live up to.” I roll my eyes and grab the card back out of her hand, careful not to crumple it.
“We are not doing that, Beef, but I am going to text him thank you for the flowers and note,” I say, pulling out my phone.
“You can’t just text him—at least send him a selfie with the flowers!” Teegan urges me.
“Fine, fine,” I respond. I hold the flowers up close to my face, give a soft smile, and snap a selfie.
I send the photo and thank you text to Mateo, followed by a second message.
Definitely no pinching allowed
After just a few seconds, I see the text is read and three dots appear.
Mateo
I solemnly swear
You make the flowers not even look pretty. That’s not very nice
I’m smiling down at my phone screen when I’m knocked out of my reverie by the sound of Teegan blasting “Lover” through her Bluetooth speaker. She’s swaying back and forth, singing along with her hands over her heart, a teasing smile on her face. I shove her onto the bed. “It’s much too soon for the L word, Teegan.”
She laughs and sits back up. “Lana, if ever there was a magnetic force of a man, he’s found you.”
Wednesday’s chapter meeting was extra long as Amaya shared schedule details for our “My VIPs” weekend coming up. AOPi used to host the traditional Mom’s Weekend and Dad’s Weekend like most Greek houses do, but last year Amaya successfully campaigned to change it to one weekend designed to be more inclusive for all family situations. I’m sure she felt the personal sting of not having a father figure on Dad’s Weekend our first two years, and Amaya is an unrelenting force when stung.
My grandparents are holding down the fort with my siblings this weekend so that both of my parents can come. I know they’re excited to see me and participate in all of the official AOPi events, but they’re not even trying to hide the fact that they’re primarily excited about meeting Mateo. My mom has called or texted me about it no less than nineteen times this week already, and it’s only Thursday.
I get to the Arrow meeting early to get the name tags ready and make small talk with Rachel. It’s evident that she’s heard rumors about Mateo and me as she asks me open-ended leading questions, but I don’t say anything about him, as Bailey is not-at-all-subtly eavesdropping nearby.
The rush of students begins, and the blood starts pounding in my temples as I see Aaron approaching with some of his fraternity brothers. There are other girls standing nearby available to write name tags, but Aaron makes it a point to come straight over to me. I look down and start slowly writing his name to avoid looking him in the eye.
“Uh, hey Lana, how are you?” Aaron asks, more subdued than normal.
“Fine, yeah, I’m good,” I mumble. “You?”
“Alright, I guess,” he says, and I finally look up from the name tag, trying not to be totally awkward. He’s staring intensely at me and asks, “What’s the question today?”
