Then There Was Maverick

Chapter 12

~ Mason ~

As I sat in an emergency chapter meeting that had been called just two hours before, my mood darkened by the second. Not only had I rushed from practice straight over to the fraternity house, I was now sitting in a meeting with a theme of honesty and loyalty among the brothers of the chapter. As our president re-read the Beta bylaws, I couldn't help but glare at the sorry excuse of a man that sat across the room from me. While rambling on about the problems he had seen amongst our brothers recently, he decided that it would be best to open the floor up to anyone who would like to voice their frustrations. One guy stood from his chair and addressed the filthy state of the bathroom and how many of his suitemates were not cleaning up after themselves. Honestly, bro, you live in a house full of men. If you expected a spotless bathroom, you should've joined the sorority across the street. A few other guys stood and addressed their frustrations, sitting back down without a fight. The peaceful tone of the meeting came to an abrupt halt when none other than Zach Wesley stood from his chair and approached the middle of the room.

"As I'm sure that most of you have heard or maybe even seen," he began, "there was an altercation between Mav and I the other day outside of the Student Center. I just wanted to take this opportunity to bury the hatchet and make amends."

Once he finished he turned to me with a shit-eating grin on his face and held his hand out for me to shake. With our whole fraternity observing the interaction, I extended my hand to his and shook it firmly, giving him a sly look of my own.

"Anybody else having something they'd like to address while we're in this safe space?" the president offered.

"Yea, I have an announcement to make," I said, standing from my seat on the couch, "I just wanted to remind everyone about the new security system we had installed recently. There have been 3 cameras placed in the house."

"One overlooking the front door," I motioned my hand toward the camera that had been drilled into the wall above the door.

"Another at the end of the hall upstairs," I pointed toward the ceiling above me.

"And one that tapes surveillance of the whole kitchen and back door," I turned my attention to Zach.

"These cameras do record audio as well, so don't say anything too incriminating," I said in a joking tone.

As I sat back down in my seat, I watched as a look of fear and worry washed over Zach's face as he realized what this meant for him. Before the meeting today, I went to the study room where the hard drive for the cameras was located and emailed myself the tapes that held Zach's confession and hazing of a pledge. He was in deep shit now.

Once the meeting was adjourned, the culprit quickly stood and made his way up the stairs in a hasty fashion. As the room cleared, only two of us remained. Bruce and I sat on opposite ends of the couch. Turning to face him, I noticed that he seemed to be in a deep state of thought.

"Bruce," I called to him, but to no avail.

I watched as a smile began to form on his face. It was obvious to me that he was daydreaming about a girl; I just didn't know who. She must be someone special to earn a dazed smile from my generally stoic friend.

Bruce had a childhood that one could describe as less than desirable. His parents were killed in a home invasion when he was just eight years old, forcing him to spend the vast majority his teenage years bouncing around from foster home to foster home. His first set of foster parents described him to be a "troubled youth" – a name that was irreconcilable among the inhabitants foster care system. In his second placement, Bruce's foster father had an alcohol dependency that made him an extremely violent man. Needless to say, the young boy was removed from this home when his social worked saw the bruises that decorated his eye during one of their meetings. In high school, his placements got better, but none of his foster parents seemed to truly care about his safety as he found himself using drugs and alcohol as a way to rid himself of the painful memories that were permanently engraved into his brain.

In his first semester of his junior year of high school, Bruce decided to join a gym that specialized in training "troubled children" to put their anger and hatred into learning the art of boxing. Spending every afternoon at the gym, he began to gain muscle and develop a skill for beating his opponents to a pulp. He made connections with the people he interacted with daily and the owner of the gym developed a strong relationship with young the man. After a few months of training with the gentleman, Bruce was adopted into his family – bringing us to where we are now. The old man made a deal with Bruce, telling him that he was to inherit the gym and run it as it should be run. The man only had one stipulation: Bruce must attend college and get a degree in business management. Knowing that the economy and the world of a small business owner was an extremely uncertain career, the man was making a better life a great possibility for his son.

"Who is she?" I spoke as I threw the couch pillow at him.

He responded with an "umph" as the pillow makes contact with the side of his head.

"What're you talking about Mav?"

Answering a question with a question – something someone only does when they don't want their answer to be known.

"The girl that's got your head up in the clouds," I smirked, "Don't think I missed that smile either. I haven't seen a genuine smile out of you since you were with Jada last spring."

"Look," he sighed, "You gotta swear you won't tell anybody because I'm not sure what exactly this is yet and I don't want to scare her off."

"I swear," I promised, giving him a solemn look.

"I've been having dinner and studying with Katie's roommate, Max, for the past few nights and I really enjoy being around her," he gushed like a middle schooler who was opening up about their crush for the first time, "She reminds me a lot of my mom, which I know is really cliché, but she truly does. I just can't seem to get her out of my head, man. I don't know what to do."

"That's great, Bruce!" I encouraged, "I think you should go for it if you really feel that strongly about her."

He shook his head and laughed, "Yeah, I think I might just do that."

"Max hasn't mentioned anything about Katie, has she?" I asked curiously.

If anybody knew of Katie's whereabouts, it had to be Max. They lived together, so surely she would've told her if she was going to leave campus for a couple of days.

"She has," he responded with furrowed eyebrows, "Why do you ask?"

"Katie hasn't been in class all week," I voiced my concerns, "and I haven't seen her around campus at all. I've tried texting her and I've called her multiple times, but she sends me to voicemail every time. I haven't talked to her since that night that we went to the bar and it's honestly starting to worry me a little bit."

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that THE Mason Maverick has a crush," he teased, "You might've finally met your match, bro."

"Yeah, yeah," I dismissed his playful jabs, "Seriously though, do you know where she is? I said some pretty awful things to her the other night, and I really need to talk to her."

Bruce let out an exasperated sigh as his face turned serious, "Do not, under any circumstances, tell Max or Katie that I told you, or I will kill you in your sleep."

I threw my hands up in surrender and said, "Scouts honor."

"Max mentioned something about a lake house on the state line. I can't help you much more than that, because that's all she said."

"That's perfect!" I jumped from my seat, "I know exactly where that is! Thanks, Bruce. I really appreciate it, man."

"Don't mention it," he replied, "Just go get your girl."

"She's not my girl," I laughed.

"Not yet," Bruce stated cheekily.