Page 58 of Ink & Ambition

“That’s a great question,” Alex says genuinely. He takes a couple of seconds to think about his response. “I’d have to say my biggest deal breaker is dishonesty. There’s no reason to be with someone if you can’t trust them completely. If you’re a dishonest person, I want nothing to do with you.”

For some reason, I didn’t expect him to take the question so seriously, but I’m glad that he did. It’s a great response. One I completely agree with.

“Margot, what about you?”

My gut instinct is to say that these people don’t care about my answers, but I don’t want to add more fuel to the internet hate fire. “I agree with you. Honesty is very important.” I want to elaborate more but again, this isn’tAsk Margotso I leave it at that.

Alex and I give our send off goodbye and the recording light overhead shuts off just as Nathan gives us a thumbs up.

“Another great session,” Nathan says as we open the studio door.

“Thanks, man,” Alex replies as he clasps hands with Nathan.Huh, when did these two get so chummy?

“Great work, as always Nathan.” Nathan nods in thanks.

“Do you wanna get some dinner or something? I’m starving.” Alex asks as we head toward the car. It’s a normal friend thing to do, grab dinner and hang out, but for some reason, it just feels like a betrayal to Ryan. I don’t like the way my stomach clenches at the idea and I can’t decide which thought bothers me more–the thought that Ryan would be upset or the thought that I care what would upset Ryan.

Either way, I decide that it’s not a good idea.

“Maybe another time. I’ve got some—”

“Work, yeah. You know, you should take your own advice sometime.”

“I do,” I say as we leave the parking lot and start the drive toward my apartment. “I spend a lot more time with you when I should be doing work.”

“Do you?” He asks curiously, as if he’s really wondering if it’s true. And it is. Whatever free time I don’t spend with my roommates, I often spend with Alex. Whether it be at his parties, his gala, the library, or recording sessions, we spend a lot of time together.

Before I know it, we’ve pulled up in front of my apartment. “See you,” I say as I climb.

“Bye bye, sunshine,” Alex says and I can’t help but smile.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Alex

Ishould’veknowntheywould retaliate. Fucking shit-stirrers really did a number on us this time. I guess having to unseal every window and door of their house could be tedious, but painting dicks all over the exterior of ours is taking it too far. This is going to take every man we have and then some to clean up and it has to happen fast before the school president sees this and gives us a citation.

“This is bullshit,” Kai says, slapping the soaking wet sponge to the outer wall. There’s paint everywhere, on the windows, walls, even the gutters. The deltas must’ve used brushes in the dead of night because one of us would’ve woken up to the sound of spray paint, but none of us heard a damn thing last night.

Keith grunts in agreement as he travels up the ladder to remove a crudely drawn ball sack from the second story window.

“You know we need to get even now,” Devon says, using a long mop to hit the top corner of the first story wall.

“One could argue that this is them getting even with us,” Keith shouts down to us.

“This is not fucking even,” I say, taking the sponge to the brick staircase. “Blatant vandalism is not the same as using a little bit of glue.”

“Damn, fellas, that’s a real low blow.” A voice shouts from the sideway and we all turn to see a few DE boys standing on the curb, holding in their laughter. The comment comes from Ryan, the clear leader of the pack. “I can’t believe someone would shaft you like that.” The group erupts into laughter, and I physically hold Kai back from jumping at them. Without another antagonizing word, the group continues down the street toward their own house.

It takes three hours to scrub the front of the house as clean as we can. The rest of the freshman brothers spend longer on the rest of the exterior but the pressure wasn’t as heavy because you can’t see it from the street.

Exhausted, we collapse on the couch as Keith gets us all beers from the fridge.

“So what are we going to do now?” He asks, handing us each a cold one.

Devon opens his bottle and takes a long sip. “We can put rotten eggs in their heating vents.”

Keith shakes his head. “Too easy to clean. We need something equal to how fucking long it just took us.”

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