Page 28 of Top Shelf
Chapter Nine
Ferris
For all thatColton was the obnoxious sort of jock I spent my life avoiding, he was also the kind of guy who never minded when I swayed into him and bumped his shoulder. We had wildlife bio together and had been paired up in a group on the first day. And although I couldn’t say he was my best friend, he was one of my better friends.
He was the first one in the house who’d stick up for me whenever people got rude. Or when people from other fraternities came to party with us. It was strange being accepted by guys who would have rather pushed me down the stairs or into open lockers in high school than give me the time of day. But I wasn’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth.
“Dude, what time is it?” Colton asked, gently elbowing me the next time I bumped into him.
I dug my phone out of my pocket and groaned. Shit. We were going to miss curfew. “Late. I was going to get something to eat.”
He shook my arm gently, squeezing down the way I liked to be touched. “Go. I’ll cover for you.”
“I don’t like breaking rules.”
Colton rolled his eyes. “And I don’t like when you get all grumpy as fuck after your blood sugar crashes. Just hit upCurry and Tea. They’re open late. Oooh, and bring me a couple chicken paratha rolls. They’re not as good as your mom’s, but she’s not coming to visit soon…is she? I haven’t seen her since parents’ weekend.”
He looked hopeful enough it almost made me laugh. “No. She and my dad won’t be here until graduation.”
He groaned. “That’s like a hundred years from now. I miss her.”
All the guys loved my mom. She had them all calling her auntie, and the moment they heard her car pull up, every single one of them reached for a broom, or a mop, or something to clean with. It was no surprise she could whip them all into shape within a single hour of setting foot inside the house.
But I knew they all did it for the food.
She really did make food that tasted like a hug.
God, I missed her.
“You good?” Colton asked quietly.
“I need food.”
He snorted. “Yeah, go. I’ll make up some random lie. No one will ask anyway. They haven’t done a curfew check since pledge week.”
I still hated breaking the rules, but I could bend them a little to make sure I got something to eat. I hated being off my schedule, and it wasn’t technically curry night, but I couldn’t resist the single Pakistani-run shop within walking distance either. It helped when I missed home.
Colton was right: it was nothing like my mom’s, but it was something.
We parted ways, and he took off at a jog toward Frat Row, and I headed down past the little trolley line toward the row of shops. Most of the places open this late on a weekday were bars. And I was willing to wager at least ninety percent of the patrons were there using fake IDs and their parents’ credit cards.
I knew mine were hoping I’d be a little rebellious like that. My dad had been hinting around it since I got accepted to Boston. He and my brothers spent hours talking about all the stuff they got up to during their undergrads.
I didn’t really know why they were expecting that I’d follow in their footsteps. I was nothing like them.
My brothers looked more like my dad than my mom. Most of the time, people assumed I was adopted until they met my mom and saw we shared the same thick, dark hair, deep brown eyes, and golden-brown skin tone.
I didn’t fit in with my brothers in so many ways, but I never wanted to, and that hadn’t changed after growing up and going off to college.
Taking a breath and shoving the thoughts of my family out of my head, I crossed the street and headed to the order window. This late at night, only a couple of girls were working—I recognized them from campus, though I didn’t know their names.
“Um,” I said as they stared at me, blinking. I hated when no one prompted me to order. When the silence continued, I breathed past my discomfort.Just…order, Ferris. Just order.“Two chicken paratha rolls, an order of kachori with extra chutney?—”
She continued to blink at me, but her fingers were pushing buttons on her ordering screen, so that was…something, I guess? “Anything else?”
My stomach squirmed harder. I wanted more. I ate a lot, especially now that I was training to take NHL ice. “The large chicken handi. And water. Two bottles of water,” I clarified.
She finished typing in, then turned the screen and stared at me again with those dead eyes and zero expression.
