Imogen’s stomach growled again. Being hungry and sweaty sucked. But what really sucked was knowing it didn’t have to be that way—the hungry bit, at least, because lunch had been served at the fifth party of the day. Pretty little boxed lunches with cucumber sandwiches, pasta salad and shortbread cookies for dessert. Imogen had picked up her sandwich, ready to devour it in two bites. But then she’d noticed that the sister she was talking to hadn’t touched any of her food. Nobody around her was eating. This must be one of those rules Maddy didn’t tell me about, she thought. She didn’t want to look like a pig when everybody else was acting like rabbits, so she took a nibble of cucumber and snuck a grape when her hostess turned to sneeze, but that was it. When the party ended, she’d had to put her barely touched box on the foyer table and watch while her sandwich and cookies got buried under a pile of other barely touched lunches.
Just when she thought she would waste away completely, she felt a nudge from the seat next to her.
Maddy held out a bag of trail mix. “The rush hacks all said to pack food,” she said. “Got to keep up your energy.”
“Oh my God!” Imogen thrust out her hand. “I could kiss you right now.”
Maddy poured a helping into Imogen’s palm. “I’ve got M&Ms too,” she said. “If you want.”
Imogen munched some dried pineapple, feeling the energy flow back into her body. Maddy’s super-prepared approach to rush might have seemed weird at first, but if it meant getting saved from starvation, then Imogen was on board with it 100 percent.
“So what did you think of Phi Kappa Delta?” she asked, hungry for some conversation, too.
“The girls seemed kind of awkward,” Maddy answered. “But the mermaid theme was cool.”
“Did you notice the fishbowls on the tables? All the goldfish in them were dead.”
“Ew. Really?”
“Yeah. Completely belly-up. Somebody should report them to PETA.”
“Well, Phi Kapp’s a big sports house anyway,” Maddy said. “You’re not on the swim team are you? Basketball? Soccer?”
“Nope, nope, and nope.” Imogen turned to the window and looked out at the tree-lined sidewalks. There weren’t many other people on campus, since classes hadn’t started yet, but the few who were back were hanging out on grassy lawns, crossing right in the middle of the street, going into big stone buildings with names like Angleford Hall and Blackmore Collegium of Musical Arts. Old brick pathways, a bell tower, ivy growing on everything—she could have been at any school up East, but she wasn’t. She was far away from her old life, and she planned on keeping it that way. She’d even told her mom and dad to stay in Europe an extra week instead of helping her move in at the dorm. The last thing she needed was Didi sweeping in under a pile of Vuitton luggage, or her dad insisting on treating the entire dorm wing to steak and sashimi. Driving up in a chauffeured car wasn’t exactly the best way to get a new start, so Imogen had kept the whole family thing on the down low. Not that she thought many people at Baldwin would know or even care about the Ashes or the Bansfords or the rest of her ridiculously rich relatives, but she was sick of people treating her like that was all there was.
“I did sort of like the Mu Alpha Pis,” she told Maddy. “Though I don’t think I could keep a straight face if I joined a house named after the sound a cow makes.”
“My sister’s rushing Mu Alpha at State.”
Imogen cocked her head, surprised. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“We’re twins,” Maddy’s expression darkened. “Fraternal, not identical.”
“Wow,” said Imogen. She’d started to feel close to Maddy after their first day in Greek Gulag together, but now she remembered that they really didn’t know each other that well, and it made her think about how much she wanted a friend. She’d barely heard from Tippy all summer—partly because Didi had been screening everything, but also because Tippy had quit texting and posting. Imogen would go weeks without a word, to the point where she dreaded looking at the news for fear of reading the worst. Then, out of the blue, she would get an e-mail with a link to photos on some gossip site, or a snap that said, simply, “Wasted” or “Tired.”
Imogen missed Tippy so much it hurt. The way they’d walk around the city until they couldn’t feel their feet and then take an Uber home. The way they’d text away their summer vacations—Imogen from Greece and Tippy from the Hamptons. This summer there’d been no Tippy at all, so Imogen had hung out with her dad instead, swimming and playing chess and looking forward to going to Baldwin, where she could meet people who had nothing to do with her life back in New York.
Which pretty much described Maddy to a tee.
“If your sister’s at State, why didn’t you go there, too?” Imogen asked.
Maddy folded the bag of trail mix closed, then folded it again and jammed it back into her purse. “She and I aren’t exactly close right now. I don’t think we’d be very good sorority sisters.”
Imogen sat forward; she couldn’t resist a good story. “What happened? Did she steal your boyfriend or something?”
For a split second, Maddy looked like she might burst into tears. But then her expression grew tough. “Sometimes you just have to get away. You know?”
“Yeah,” Imogen answered. “I totally do.”
The bus lurched to a stop at the entrance to a circular drive. A huge Tudor-style house sat in the middle of the circle with A-frame peaks jutting up everywhere.
“Kappa Alpha Beta,” said Maddy as they shouldered their purses and stood. “They’re the Goths and stoners.”
“Goths have a sorority?” Imogen picked a piece of trail mix out of her teeth. “Aren’t those two things, like, diametrically opposed?”
They got off the bus and started filing directly into the house. Instead of the usual run-out-on-the-porch-and-sing routine, it looked like the Kappa Alpha Betas were going to get right down to business.
No theme, either, Imogen thought, noticing the absence of disco lights, fairy glitter, and flapper costumes. What a novel idea.
The sisters were lined up on the staircase off the main entry, and they filed down as the rushees walked in. They didn’t look very Goth to Imogen, but then she had to wonder just how many Goths Maddy had ever really met.
“Hey!” A girl with cropped red hair stepped down to greet her. “I’m Tess. How’s it going?”
“It’s going great!” Imogen answered, giving every word a great big exclamation point. She hated this new tone of voice she heard herself using. It had started coming out after she listened to Maddy and Alex the recruitment counselor go on and on about the importance of being upbeat and positive. Upbeat coming from Imogen sounded like a flight attendant on crack, but once she’d started talking that way she found it really hard to stop.
She followed Tess into a sitting room that looked like every other room she’d been in that day—lots of striped wallpaper and blowsy flower arrangements. They came to an overstuffed chair and Tess motioned for her to sit. As Tess sank to her knees, Imogen admired her hair. It had black spikes peeking out underneath, and a tiny diamond studded the side of her nose. Like everybody else that day, Tess’s eyes went immediately to the name tag on Imogen’s chest.
“So. Imogen. What sort of name it that?”
“It’s . . .” Imogen paused. “It’s a family name. For my great-aunt. Imogen Aurelia Wolfe.”
“She some sort of Swedish milkmaid or something?”
“No, a Bavarian duchess.” Imogen laughed uncomfortably, waiting to see how Tess would respond.
Tess shrugged. “So do you go by Ginny?”
“Call me Ginny, and I’ll kick your butt.”
“How about Im?”
“I’m cool with Im.” She let herself relax, leaning back in the chair.
“So tell the truth,” Tess said. “How’s it really going?”
“Honestly?” Imogen could hear Maddy’s voice in her head, telling her to make something up; be positive.
Screw it, thought Imogen. She’s asking.
“The truth is that my brain is fried, I reek, and I would probably eat my own shoes right now if you gave me enough ketchup.”
Tess smiled. “I wish I could say it gets better, but it’s more or less like this all week. The parties get smaller, but they get longer, too. At the end of the whole thing most people are just happy to get their pledge bids and get on with their lives.”
Imogen thought of something that had been bugging her ever since the parties started—a bigger question than which skirt to wear or how to keep from keeling over when everybody else seemed to be running on nothing but pep.
“But what happens after?” she asked. “I mean after you figure out what house you’re joining? It’s not really over at that point, because then you have to live with these people for four years, right? What if you hate it? Can you quit?”
Tess leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Look, I’ll give you some advice as long as it doesn’t leave this room. God knows I don’t need Greek Council coming down on me for breaking some stupid Byzantine recruitment rule.”
Imogen nodded.
“First of all,” said Tess, “you can quit, but quitting means going back on your oath. When you join a sorority you promise to support each other as sisters. I wouldn’t make a promise like that if I didn’t intend to keep it.”
“Oh,” said Imogen. She felt like an ass now for making fun of the whole thing.
“With that said,” Tess continued, “make a good choice. I’m not telling you which choice to make. But your job is to find someplace where you’ll be happy, and trust me there are plenty of places that are super cool with some genuinely nice girls. If you want to end up in one of those places, then no matter how fried you are, you have to keep it together, pay attention and trust your gut. You’re going to be with these people for a long time. They could make you miserable, or they could just be the best friends you’ve ever had.”
Day 1
Evening
EIGHT
Cass grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl in front of her and munched while the rest of her Sigma sisters trickled into the dining room. They took their seats around twelve oak tables, each one piled with papers, personal effects, and food—lots of food. This was where the sisters came after each party to freshen up, cast their initial votes and snack on mini-quiches, veggies, and bowls of chips. In addition to all the snacks, a giant sub sandwich now sat on the sideboard at the head of the room, even though nearly everybody planned on eating out for dinner. After twelve parties in a row, Cass, for one, felt like she might go nuts if she had to stay in the Sigma house any longer than absolutely necessary.
She bit into another pretzel and sighed at the thought of the long nights that lay ahead of them in this room. Since this was her first time on the other side of recruitment, she could only go by what she’d heard from the older girls, and they’d said voting could get brutal. Last year they’d had at least one session go all night.
Cass jumped as her phone vibrated in the pocket of her shorts. She’d almost forgotten about Leo coming back to town. Almost. Now, as she fumbled for the phone, fingers clumsily entering her password, she felt like an entire summer of waiting and wondering had telescoped down to this pinprick of a moment.
I’m back! Shh . . . no one else knows. You’re the first face I want to see. Meet me in 20?
She smiled. Because if nothing else, she knew Leo still looked for her before anyone else. Back in high school and at Baldwin, they were fellow drama geeks, with a circle of other drama geek friends. But when it counted, they were a solitary center. Leo might flit around outside, getting his fix of adoration for the wit and charm that were his superpowers. He always came back to Cass, though—and this time, he had actually, literally returned. She ached to see him, but rush loomed like a brick wall. There was no way around it; her evening was spoken for. She texted him back.
Can’t. Voting tonite + dinner mtg. Sorry!
It took more than a minute for his response to come through. Leo had not been impressed when Cass joined Sigma. He’d been a good sport throughout her pledge year, offering an ear and a shoulder when the experience had turned into a nightmare. But he didn’t hide his disdain for all things Greek, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t have any warm fuzzy feelings about recruitment week.
Too busy judging others, I see. Remember, karma’s a bitch
And there was the side of his personality that she’d conveniently forgotten. Leo could be a stubborn, closed-minded ass sometimes. The fact that he could go from compliments to borderline insults in just two texts made Cass’s mood plummet. She hit Ignore. if Leo wanted to be mean, then he didn’t deserve a reply. Plus, voting was another phones-free zone.
Ruby pulled up a chair and Cass turned, ready to make a joke about how crappy the day had been. But when she met Ruby’s eye she saw that her friend wasn’t smiling.
“Hey,” said Cass. “Everything Okay?”
Ruby looked worried. She shook her head when Cass offered a pretzel. “I talked to my dad. That job he was up for fell through, and house fees are due by the end of the week.”
“There’s still time,” said Cass. Ruby’s dad had gotten laid off at the start of the summer, which sucked in general and also specifically, because if anything happened to affect Ruby’s cash flow it wouldn’t be good for her here at school. Between annual dues, required philanthropy donations, social fees, and housing costs that were twice what people paid at the dorms, going Greek could get expensive fast.
“Can you give them some of your own money to hold them off?” she asked.
Ruby shook her head. “I went to get cash but I’m overdrawn.”
Cass glanced around at the nearly full tables, ready to change the subject if she had to; the way gossip flew around the house, it was smarter to talk about things like money in private. Fortunately, they had a distraction. Marina Lucci, the house secretary, had begun passing around tallies from earlier in the day. After each party, each sister had gone back to the dining room for a quick up or down vote on all the girls she’d met, which got turned in to Marina. Unanimous nos were automatically thrown out, and unanimous yesses automatically got asked back. It was the borderlines—the girls receiving mixed votes—who were up for debate.
The room fell silent as the sisters read the lists. A few minutes later Delia entered, looking coolly presidential as she swept to the head table. At her side was Sophia Kensington, head of Baldwin’s Sigma Theta Kappa alumni chapter.
Sophia was a former beauty queen who took way more interest in the day-to-day business of Sigma than was probably healthy for a woman her age. And now she was obsessed with getting a new library wing added to the house in honor of her sister, who’d died in a tragic polo accident. She’d taken a creepy interest in all of their rush preparations, showing up at random times to observe skit practice, approve decorations, and huddle with Delia about God knew what. She had her eye on the rushees with the deepest pockets—that much was obvious, but nobody had told the sisters that this bloodless statue of a woman would be presiding over voting as well. Here and there people whispered behind their hands, obviously relishing the drama.
Delia banged her gavel.
“I believe everybody knows Ms. Kensington? Sophia was gracious enough to take time out from her schedule to oversee our recruitment activities this year. Sophia, is there anything you’d like to say?”
“No,” said Sophia, settling in behind the head table. “Except to emphasize the importance of our jobs here tonight. This year’s recruitment is too important to make any mistakes. Especially when we have such outstanding prospects coming through.”
Delia nodded, as did several of the older sisters. “Thank you, Sophia,” she said. “Rise, please.”
Cass stood along with everybody else and waited. A snicker came from across the room. Two tables over, Courtney Mann rolled her eyes.
“Oh!” Cass felt her cheeks go hot. Meetings were supposed
to start with the Sigma Anthem, led by the music leader. Up until now, that job had always fallen to Leith. “Uh . . .” Cass cleared her throat. Her mind had gone blank.
“O Sigma . . .” murmured Ruby, and Cass blurted out the first line, grateful when the rest of the sisters started to sing along.
O Sigma Theta Kappa, our Mother in the firmament
Shining down from darkened skies, our guide and inspiration,
Thy daughters pledge themselves to thee in perfect adoration . . .
The anthem went directly into the Sigma pledge. Each girl reached out and took the hand of the sister next to her.
Sisters in equality.
Sisters in fraternity.
Sisters for eternity.
A quick squeeze of hands, then they sat and went back to their tally lists.
“Thanks,” Cass whispered.
“No problem,” Ruby replied. She looked like she was about to say something else but the sound of raised voices made both of them look up. Delia had already opened the floor for debate, and a debate was definitely going on. Violet Coetzee seemed to have gotten really attached to one of the rushees Cass had noticed earlier in the day: a girl named Madeleine Christopher.
“I definitely think she should be invited back,” Violet was saying. “Her grades are impeccable. Her community service is outstanding. I don’t understand how anybody could have voted her down.”
Delia scanned the room. “Who else met Madeleine Christopher? Can we hear an opposing view?”
Courtney stood up from a table loaded with Sigma’s most powerful members. There were at least twenty in the group, all of them part of Baldwin’s Greek elite. They operated on a whole other level of power and prestige. If the sorority was one big hive, then Courtney and her friends were Killer Bees with stings that could be deadly to a victim’s social life, status, and self-esteem.
Cass had learned that the hard way.
Rush Page 4