Line & Verse - Chapters I & II
Line & Verse is a serialized LGBTQ+ coming-of-age story exploring desire, belonging, and the secret world of Southern college fraternities in the ‘90s.
Welcome to the first installment of Line & Verse. Set at a traditional, deeply conservative college at the end of the 20th century, this is a world of tailgates, pledging rituals, and unspoken truths. It’s about belonging and becoming—and the moments that change you in ways you can’t yet name.
Chapter 1: Orientation
The heat was suffocating, a thick August blanket draping over the rolling Virginia hills. Ethan Harris wiped sweat from his brow as he stepped from his old navy blue Jeep Cherokee onto the cracked brick sidewalk of Westmore College — the same one he’d scraped together the money for, summers bussing tables and working the pro shop back home. He gazed at the row of stately red-brick buildings flanked by sprawling oaks, their shade promising relief that never quite came. He lit a cigarette—a new habit he’d taken up to mask his anxiety—and drew deeply, eyes squinting through the smoke at students hauling boxes and greeting each other loudly.
Inside his dorm, his roommate Mark Bennett sat cross-legged on the bed, grinning beneath a mop of sun-bleached hair.
“You must be Ethan,” he said easily. “I’m Mark.”
Ethan nodded, forcing a smile.
“Yeah. Good to meet you.”
Mark leaned forward conspiratorially.
“Planning on rushing? “My brother Eli’s a senior in Delta Chi. Last year running the show.”. It’s the best house on campus—pretty much a guaranteed good time.”
Before Ethan could respond, a figure passed their open doorway. Ethan’s breath caught at the effortless swagger of the guy who paused outside. Eli Bennett stood tall, lean muscles visible beneath a Westmore Lacrosse jersey, sun-streaked hair damp with sweat — the kind of casual claim to a sport that made it obvious he belonged here. He raised an eyebrow and smiled casually at Mark.
“Welcome to paradise, boys,” Eli drawled, his voice warm, southern-tinged confidence radiating.
His gaze flicked briefly over Ethan, causing a tightening low in Ethan’s gut that he refused to acknowledge. Eli tapped a cigarette from behind his ear, lit it smoothly, and walked away without another word.
Ethan exhaled shakily, realizing he’d been holding his breath. Mark laughed, oblivious.
“I That’s Eli. Kind of a campus legend. He’s already got interviews lined up, but don’t let him fool you. He still acts like he’s got forever.”
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of unpacking boxes and dodging overly cheerful upperclassmen offering directions. Ethan walked the quad aimlessly later, trying to memorize building names. Everywhere, there was smoke: students leaning against trees or sitting on the steps of buildings, cigarettes dangling casually from fingers as they laughed like they belonged here.
That night, Ethan stood awkwardly by a roaring bonfire, cigarette in hand. Around him, freshmen mingled nervously while upperclassmen laughed easily, sharing inside jokes. The flames threw sparks into the humid night, and the smell of beer and cigarettes clung to everything. He recognized the slouched, easy posture from earlier in the day, leaning in Mark’s doorway. That same half-smile, like Eli knew exactly how much space he took up.
Ethan’s gaze drifted repeatedly to Eli, silhouetted by the firelight, cigarette glowing between his fingers, features sharp yet inviting.
Eli’s head tipped back as he laughed at something a brother said, and Ethan felt that same twisting in his stomach again. He shifted uncomfortably, aware of how much he wanted to be closer, of how much he wanted to be noticed.
When their eyes finally met across the flames, Eli’s expression softened slightly, unreadable yet intense. Ethan’s pulse quickened, and he hastily dropped his gaze, taking another drag to steady himself. Whatever this was, he was determined not to let anyone—including himself—see it.
Later, lying in his dorm bed, the sounds of laughter and music drifting faintly through the window, Ethan stared at the ceiling. He could still see Eli’s face in the firelight and feel that strange knot in his chest. He told himself it was nerves.
It had to be.
Chapter II: Welcome Back Party
Orientation week was chaos. Ethan navigated a relentless whirlwind of handshakes, small talk, and forced camaraderie, cigarettes providing his only steady companion. He gravitated towards Delta Chi’s towering columns and stately porch, its aura of tradition both intimidating and appealing. Mark introduced him to brothers and pledges alike, all of whom seemed larger than life.
The Delta Chi house was buzzing that night. Music thumped from enormous speakers, Dave Matthews blending into classic rock, the smoky haze inside thick as fog. Ethan held a lukewarm Milwaukee’s Best, silently grateful for something to occupy his hands. Everywhere he looked, there was noise and movement: guys tossing footballs across the lawn, girls in sundresses laughing too loudly, upperclassmen commanding the room with easy confidence.
He was acutely aware of Eli, casually leaning against a wall near the kitchen, holding court with several fraternity brothers and a few girls from a nearby college. Ethan’s eyes traced Eli’s confident posture, the way his shirt pulled taut against his shoulders, the casual yet intentional movement of his hands as he talked. Eli seemed untouchable, the kind of person who belonged effortlessly anywhere.
“Ethan,” Eli called suddenly, catching him off guard. “Come here.”
Ethan hesitated only a moment before moving forward slowly, heart racing. Eli’s eyes held his, a faint smirk playing at his lips. He offered Ethan a cigarette, fingers brushing briefly during the exchange, sending a jolt through Ethan’s chest.
“You seem tense,” Eli said softly, close enough now that his voice felt intimate, meant only for Ethan. “Orientation week getting to you?”
Ethan shrugged awkwardly, eyes fixed on Eli’s mouth.
“Just getting used to everything, I guess.”
Eli nodded slowly, eyes searching Ethan’s face for something unspoken.
“Stick with us. It’ll get easier.”
The words were nothing, really, but the way Eli said them made Ethan’s throat tighten. He nodded quickly, afraid his voice would betray him.
Coming across the room, Mark leaned over, grinning. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just milking it — last year to play king before the real world kicks him.”
Eli turned back to his friends, breaking the moment. Ethan stepped away shakily, needing air.
Outside on the porch, the cooler night air did little to settle him. He lit another cigarette and leaned against a column, watching the silhouettes of students moving around the yard. He felt completely out of place yet inexplicably tethered here now. He thought of Eli’s brief touch, the way his gaze seemed to see something Ethan didn’t want anyone to see.
Mark was already inside again, talking to brothers Ethan didn’t know, his laugh carrying out to the porch. It struck Ethan that Mark always seemed to know where to go in a room like this — and who to stand beside.
He stayed outside for a long time, smoking in silence, telling himself that his reaction to Eli was just admiration. But when Eli stepped onto the porch later, cigarette glowing softly, and gave him that same unreadable look, Ethan knew he was lying to himself.
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