by Sherry Soule
PLEDGE HELL
Earlier I had to do a sorority tour that the school arranged for those interested in Greek life. There were four sororities to visit and the day had felt more like an adult field trip. The members sang and played piano, and even told funny stories on what the sorority meant to them. Raven’s constant sarcasm made the day feel very long.
The other pledges all fidgeted and smiled too brightly. I wanted to tell them—amid swift kicks to their boney shins—to relax and try to learn from this process and take it in stride. But then I was sure they’d take one look at me, a legacy at Zeta Beta, and the other PNMs would hmmph and toss their highlighted curls. My jaw still ached from all the forced smiling I had to do. The houses talked about philanthropy, and each sorority’s chosen charity was commendable and inspiring. No effort to did good was criticized, so I suggested helping at the local dog rescue.
While a few other sororities seemed great, my heart was still set on becoming a ZB sister, so I had decided to become an official pledge of Zeta Beta.
As I painted a black cat sitting in a field from a photo I found online in my room, a new email pinged. Setting aside my brush, I leaned over my laptop and clicked open the message.
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: MIA
Dear Miss DuPont,
Been a while. I found your email in the student directory and thought I’d say hello. I feel like I haven’t bumped (literally) into you in days.
By the way, how’s your leg? I think Lucky misses you.
He needs his belly scratched. WOOF.
Your new friend,
Cole
From: Serena DuPont
Subject: re: MIA
Dear Mr. Prescott,
I am not missing. And how very stalkerish of you to hunt down my email address. You’re better than a bloodhound. LOL
~S
P.S. It sounds as if you need something scratched. Or is that what you’re trying to get….LUCKY???
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: Calling me a dog?
Snarky. I like it.
No ulterior motives, baby. Just hanging out with my best friend Maximus, and thinking about you.
Which makes me curious…I want to know if there are any secrets to uncover behind those beautiful blue eyes.
Cole
From: Serena DuPont
Subject: Annoyed
Why do you assume I have secrets? *rolling my eyes* Find someone else to stalk.
~S
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: Friends?
Just a hunch. Not an accusation.
Sounds like somebody needs a hug.
I have a knack for reading people and I want to know all about you. So why be annoyed?
Cole
It seemed so much safer for my heart to keep hot guys like him at arm’s length. But Cole kept stepping just a little too close into my personal space. Not to mention cyber space now, too. Still, it was fun to flirt via email where it was safe. At a distance. Where I couldn’t be tempted by his incredible good looks or charming smile.
From: Serena DuPont
Subject: Non-Friends
There’s not much to know. And curiosity killed the cat. So stop pestering me.
If you don’t mind, I need to finish this art assignment before dawn.
~S
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: re: Non-Friends
Sounds like a challenge to me.
I am really liking this, so what happens next? Jell-O shots at sixty paces?
Cole
From: Serena DuPont
Subject: re: Non-Friends
Nothing!!! What are you talking about? A challenge?
~S
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: Mad Wooing Skills
Miss DuPont,
Yes, a challenge. I am confident that somebody like me could woo a mysterious girl like you. You act tough and indifferent, but I bet you’re a romantic at heart.
And I know you like me.
Cole
From: Serena DuPont
Subject: No Skills
Like you? I don’t even know you. And I have no time for romance.
Better men have tried and failed. You’re in good company, so give it up.
~S
P.S. My heart has been safely locked in a fireproof box.
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: re: Mad Wooing Skills
You really don’t think I could win you over? I’ve got skills you’ve never seen! LOL
Would you rather...get your foot stuck in a bear trap or hang out with me this weekend?
Cole
From: Serena DuPont
Subject: No Skills!
Hmmm, the bear trap might not be so bad. :-p
You are so random! LOL
~S
From: Colton Prescott
Subject: Not Giving Up!
OK, I’ll back off. For now.
TTYL. Unless I run into you first! LOL
Cole
I shut down my laptop and smiled. Despite knowing that I had to stay focused on the deal I made with my dad, I couldn’t help but enjoy this playful banter with Cole.
On the windowpane, a spider tiptoed across the glass. I smashed it with my European History book. Pleased with my ninja speed and the fact I’d finally found a use for that textbook.
My cellphone buzzed from inside my purse. I glanced at the digital clock on the desk, then over at Vanessa. She snored softly without waking. It buzzed again and I blindly searched through my bag for my iPhone.
Who was texting me at one a.m.? Cole for a late night hook up?
The screen blinked with a new message. I lost all breath when I read the words.
MEET @ ZETA BETA HOUSE. U HAVE 7 MINS.
I hadn’t seen or heard from the Zeta Betas since the party and I was pretty sure my particularly accident-prone nature had become legendary around campus. But I was ready to endure the often humiliating traditions of pledge week if it meant being accepted into Zeta Beta, one of the most prestigious sororities in Northern California.
I hastily tugged a hoodie on over my pajama pants and crammed my bare feet into sneakers. I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door. My hair stood up on one side, my eyes looked bloodshot, and old mascara had caked to my lashes. And I had an ugly red mark on my cheek from falling asleep on a textbook earlier form a much-needed nap. I was a hot mess, but there was no time to wash my face or even brush my hair or teeth.
I tiptoed out of the room and closed the door quietly behind me.
I rushed downstairs and into the lobby, then held the heavy door until it clicked closed. The chilly air whipped at my clothes and hair, and the sky appeared black as death. No moon. No stars. Only dark, temperamental clouds. The bleak weather matched my mood. A drizzle fell and an icy wind whipped at my loose hair. I zipped up my hoodie and rubbed my arms to keep warm. Two students sprinted past, hurrying to get inside the dorms before the sky opened up.
I tripped twice on a shoelace as I ran across the quad to the Zeta Beta house and prayed the sisters weren’t witnessing all my awkward fumbling and stumbling.
Jade, Claire, and Brooklyn stood outside the mansion wearing ZB clothing with an officially obscure Greek insignia. I gasped for breath. No other PNMs stood shivering in the cold. Just me.
Super.
“You were almost one minute late.” Brooklyn puckered her glossy, pink lips.
I tried to stand up straight. “Sorry.”
“We need you to do something,” Jade said and her intoxicating Chloé perfume drifted around my head, making me want to sneeze.
I didn’t actually think I was here for a sorority mixer.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Claire left her favorite Coach purse at the Gamma Alpha Delta house somewhere in the living room,” Brooklyn said. “And we need you to go get it for her.”
Knots formed in my stomac
h. “You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t want to go back there,” Claire said casually.
“She’s dodging an ex who might still be there,” Brooklyn said.
I fiddled with the string of my hoodie. “Why can’t you or Jade do it?”
“Because, PNM,” Jade said with a pinched expression. “We asked you to do it. Now go fetch.”
I stared at them, then gestured to my clothes. “Um, I’m in my PJs and I’m not wearing a bra. No way can I go into a frat house like this.”
“Don’t be a whiner,” Jade said. “The party is over and everyone should be asleep by now. You just sneak inside and get her purse. It’s a cakewalk.”
“You made me go out in the middle of the night for this?” I said. “And FYI, that’s considered breaking and entering.”
“Excuse me?” Brooklyn asked, rapidly blinking at me.
“PNMs are supposed to follow orders, not question them,” Claire said.
“Yeah, but isn’t this considered hazing?”
Brooklyn frowned. “Why? Are you going to tell someone?”
“No…I-I just…”
In typical Type-A personality fashion, Jade demanded, “Are you going to do it or not?”
“Fine.” My throat went dry. “But if everyone is asleep how am I supposed to get inside? Won’t the doors be locked?”
Jade stepped closer, patting me on the shoulder. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
“Now go,” Claire ordered. “If you’re not back here in twenty minutes, we’ll be forced to rethink our bid.”
The cold look in her eye told me she was not kidding.
“Hurry,” Brooklyn said.
Apparently, the craziness of recruitment had started and hazing was the apex of necessary evils. Which meant I had to do this and risk humiliation. Everything I ever wanted would be within my grasp, but only if I became a Zeta Beta sister.
In ten seconds flat, I’d made up my mind. Not like I had a choice. A slanting shower of rain pelted my hair and clothes. I turned around and ran like hell down the dark street, a thin sheen of dirt and car oil floated in the rainwater trickling down the gutter. I slipped and my foot plunged into the trench, splashing muddy water up to my ankles. I shook out my foot and kept going.
One light flickered on the second-floor of the imposing Gamma Alpha Delta mansion. The wooden front door held a single stained-glass window in the center. I scanned the area, then raced up the porch steps two at a time, praying for a miracle. One yank on the handle told me I had no such luck. The mansion was locked tight.
“Crap,” I mumbled under my breath.
For a second, I considered ringing the doorbell and waking the whole house. Then I gazed down at myself. I was wearing blue PJ bottoms with yellow ducks, a tank top without a bra under a thin cotton hoodie, and my clothes were damp from the rain. My hair was tangled and I didn’t have any makeup on. Did I really want to face a bunch of hot frat guys looking like this?
The answer is simple. Hell to the no.
Back down the stairs, I sprinted into the darkness along the side of the mansion. At least I was no longer out in the open. I inspected the cold walls and sighed. The backdoor was locked and the first floor windows were all closed. I slid between two rosebushes and stood on my toes, reaching for one of the windows. Locked.
How in heaven could the Zeta Betas classify this mission as a damn cakewalk?
This was getting redonkulous.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced at the time. Already five minutes had passed since I left the ZB trio. Were they actually going to retract the bid if I failed?
If they did, I was beyond screwed. Goodbye Paris.
No. There had to be another way inside. There had to be. All I had to do was find it and...
Get your ass moving!
I stepped backward and tripped over a spigot in the lawn. My palm caught on the thorns of the vines as I went down and I winced. I was about to scramble back up when I spotted a small basement window open a crack.
On my hands and knees, I crawled over the wet grass to the window, the branches of the bushes that disguised it scratching at my face and hair. I placed my hand flat against the glass and tried to open it as quietly as possible.
Nothing happened.
I dug my fingernails between the edge of the glass and the window frame and pulled with all my might, holding my breath. The glass slid open wider. Yes! I was saved.
I shoved my head inside the cool dankness of the basement and flashed the light from my phone around the space. Stacked around the perimeter stood furniture draped in sheets and beneath the window sat a metal table. The room held the stench of wet newspapers and other musty odors. I turned around and went through feet first. I dangled for a second, then dropped onto the table with a thud that seemed to echo throughout the world. I closed my eyes and held my breath. No way that had gone unheard. I waited for the frat brothers to come charging into the room, ordering me to freeze until the police arrived.
Evidently, I was inept for a life of crime.
It didn’t matter. I had to do this. Somewhere on the first floor was Claire’s dumb Coach purse. I still had to find it, then get the hell out of there, and back to Zeta Beta without getting caught. Or arrested thanks to my fabulously unstealthy entrance.
When nothing happened after several nail-biting seconds, I breathed again.
I ran up the stairs to what I assumed was the kitchen door and heaved it open, not even checking to see if there was anyone in the dimly lit room. In the middle of the space, a keg sat on the counter like an immense metal idol awaiting its worshippers.
I hurried out the entryway and down a long hallway. The only light came from three wall sconces that cast the walls in a yellowish hue. At the end of the hall, I found the living room in after-party shambles. Beer bottles and plastic cups littered practically every surface. A pink bra dangled from the chandelier. Chips had been crunched into the stained green carpet, and a splatter of vomit was caked to the side of an armchair.
How the hell was I supposed to find Claire’s purse in this mess?
As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I groped through the room and slammed my foot into an end table, louder than an A-bomb. I fumbled my way over to one of the three sofas. I found a floor lamp and flicked it on.
Then froze. I pressed a hand over my heart. The organ was beating so hard, I thought I was going into cardiac arrest.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I stared at a passed out guy, lying on his stomach with his head buried in a cushion. He didn’t move or jump up. Or tell me to get the hell outta there.
I had no idea how much time I was wasting by standing there like a moron. Five minutes? Ten? It felt like hours.
When he kept on snoozing, I moved quietly about the room, searching for that damn bag. I checked under sofas and chairs, then behind tables. Then I searched the potted plants. Nothing. I overturned cushions and discarded clothing. Zilch. I even peeked inside the fireplace. It wasn’t here.
As I turned in defeat, I spied a blue leather strap poking out from under the leg of the unconscious guy.
Crappity crap.
Hands trembling, I slowly reached out and grabbed the strap. I gave it a gentle tug while I died a gradual death. It barely moved. I yanked again a little harder this time. The guy moaned in his sleep, but he didn’t wake up. My hands quaked as I pulled the purse out from under his thigh. Finally, finally, the bag emerged.
I paused for a millisecond and listened for footsteps. Nothing. Maybe luck was on my side for a rare change.
No way was I going to climb out that basement window, so I rushed down the hallway, rounded a corner, and skidded into the foyer. As I was getting ready to open the front door, a face appeared in the window. My legs turned rubbery.
A cackle of laughter rang out in the stillness. Jade stood just outside the door.
“Serena DuPont! Get your cute ass out here!” she called cheerily.
My temper flared hot as a blowtorch. I stomped down the stairs and marched across the dewy lawn. Heat licked my skin and my limbs vibrated.
“You look pale as a ghost,” Jade said with an evil giggle.
The four of us walked down the street.
I thrust the purse at Claire. “Here. Try not to lose it again.”
“Oh! She’s acting all pissy now,” Brooklyn teased.
“Relax, Serena. It was just a little hazing,” Claire said.
“Fantastic. So fun. Can I go to bed now?” I asked.
Jade paused and her expression darkened. “You keep up that bitchy attitude and you won’t get a bid.”
My heart skipped several beats. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired and cranky.”
“Well, we were going to have you over this weekend,” Brooklyn said. “But if you’re not interested...”
Have me over? Like hang out in their inner sanctum?
“I never said that.”
Jade nodded. “Of course you didn’t. Brooklyn will text you on Saturday with the details.”
“Oh. And you can have this,” Claire said, handing me the Coach bag. “I don’t even use this one.”
“Seriously?” I exclaimed.
“One more thing…” Jade said in a low tone with her arms crossed. “I forgot to mention it at the get-together the other night, but Zeta Beta sisters don’t date or hook up with—Alpha Tau Omegas, a fraternity that everyone simply calls “ATO” for short—in case you didn’t know.”
“Why?” I asked.
“It’s just an unspoken rule,” Claire said with a shrug. “So don’t break it.”
They strolled off while I stood there dirty and sweaty, with my mouth hanging open.
PROFESSOR EVIL
Today had been “Philanthropy Day” and in this round of sorority rush, the girls went to each house and learned about the philanthropies of each chapter and did a small craft for them. Raven mocked the project the whole time while the artist in me put in some real effort. By the time they let us go, I was late for class.
Raven and I made a mad dash across campus and we got to European History just in time. The professor slammed the heavy door closed behind him and those who weren’t already in their seats scrambled to get their butts into them.