Rachel shrugged. “Maybe it means something to me, too. Call me cheesy, but I still think there’s a house out there where I’ll fit in. And if not, then at least this whole thing was a hell of an experience. Can you honestly say you haven’t had any fun this week?”
Imogen thought about it. The truth was that she had had a good time. Even with the dumb themes and the fake cheerfulness, the rush parties had been fun in their own exhausting way. And there was one house she’d really liked—enough to actually picture herself joining. The Kappa Alpha Betas seemed genuinely cool and, if nothing else, being a sister there would help her make friends on such a big campus.
“Okay, fine,” she said to Rachel. “I admit it. Rush is fun. But don’t tell my mom!”
They both laughed and Rachel turned the TV back on. Imogen kept one eye on DIY home shows and the other eye on the elevators as she and Rachel waited for the rest of their dorm mates to come in for the nightly invite ritual.
Maddy showed up just as Alex was handing out the slips of paper. She sat by herself, checked off her acceptances, then went quickly back to her room.
Rachel leaned over to Imogen. “Well at least none of my last three cut me. How’d you do?”
Imogen looked at her own paper. None of the ten houses she’d visited that day had cut her, either.
Maddy was right.
Damn.
Tonight Imogen had to narrow her list to three. She moved her pencil to the box next to “Sigma Theta Kappa.” What could her mother really do, from all the way up in New York, if she decided to cut them?
She was in college now. Her mom couldn’t control her anymore. She would still go Greek, she just wouldn’t join Didi’s precious sorority. Imogen knew her dad would back her up; if she told him how strongly she felt about this, then he would stand by her.
Choose wisely, Tess had said. Pay attention and trust your gut.
Well, Imogen was paying attention—a little late, but better late than never.
She put her pencil to the paper and filled in “Decline.”
There. If Maddy wants Sigma so bad, then she can have it.
Day 4
Morning
TWENTY-NINE
“Imogen Ash cut us last night! How could that have happened?” Delia paced across the dining room in front of more than twenty pale-faced sisters who’d been summoned to an emergency meeting. “I don’t understand it. Our top prospect declined our invitation to Pref Day!”
Cass ran her tongue over her teeth; she hadn’t had time to brush them before getting dragged out of bed and ordered downstairs. While pulling on a pair of old yoga pants she’d gotten the scoop from Ruby, who’d gotten up earlier to check in with her parents.
The rumor had started before the sun even came up, when returns came back from Greek Council. The girls working downstairs on the decorating committee had heard Marina Lucci say something about Imogen Ash, then Sophia Kensington had run up the grand staircase to Delia’s room, and the door to the president’s suite had stayed ominously shut after that.
Now all the officers, plus everyone who had hosted or spoken with Imogen over the past three days, had been summoned to try and explain how the unthinkable had happened.
“I had a great time with her,” said Allison Reed. “She was talking about how much her mom loved being in Sigma.”
“She’s a triple legacy,” added Aimee Wu. “Why would she want to mess that up?”
“She interviewed with all our best girls,” said Bridget Ellsworth, who was in charge of finalizing the hostess list with Delia each day. “The only nonapproved sister who met her was Cassandra Ryland.”
“Well that explains a lot,” muttered Courtney.
“We got along fine,” Cass protested. “And I was probably only with her a grand total of five minutes.”
“Long enough,” said Allison.
“Stop it,” Delia ordered. “Obviously we all bear some responsibility in this. But even so, I just don’t get it. Imogen Ash got nothing but the best treatment here. Everyone who spoke with her got the impression that she genuinely liked Sigma.”
“Obviously it wasn’t enough to keep her from cutting us.”
Those words came from Sophia Kensington, who had planted herself behind the head table like a judge in a courtroom. They were the first words she’d uttered since the meeting started, despite the fact that Delia had been glancing repeatedly in her direction, obviously looking for someone to help put things into perspective. They could all use a pep talk. But the woman Delia looked to as a mentor had sat there, grimly silent.
“This is a disaster,” Sophia said. “First Rachel Morgan and now this.”
“Wait.” Delia stopped pacing and searched Sophia’s face. “You said Rachel Morgan was a minor player—you said it was okay if we let her go.”
“That was before it became apparent that you were going to let every other must-have on the list go as well.” Sophia folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Now we are officially in crisis mode. What are we going to do?”
Sophia’s tone reminded Cass of the night before last, after the Rachel Morgan–Maddy Christopher swap, and it struck her with the same oddness: Sophia was getting way too upset about just one rushee.
“She’s made her decision,” Delia said. “I don’t think we can do anything else.”
“There’s always something you can do!” Sophia snapped.
Delia pressed the pads of her fingers into the points of the Sigma on her lavaliere while the other girls looked on. “What are you suggesting?” she asked.
Sophia gave an exasperated sigh. “Think, Delia. You’re not stupid. Make a plan.”
Delia’s fingers moved down to the Theta and then to the Kappa. “I can have Greek Council look at her sheet again. Maybe they misread and she didn’t really mean to cut us.”
“Well,” said Sophia. “That’s a start.”
Delia turned to Marina. “Please request a review.” Marina nodded and started clacking away at her computer.
Sophia reached for the coffeepot at the end of the table and poured herself a cup. “You’re all correct,” she said. “It doesn’t make sense that Imogen Ash would cut Sigma. Not with her deep ties to this house and considering how much we’ve invested in her. I’m sure at the end of the day we’ll find that this was nothing more than an oversight.”
Voices and the sounds of footsteps had started to waft in from the foyer as other sisters came downstairs to start the day. Delia looked doubtful, but she nodded. “We’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on. I’ll check with Marina throughout the day. In the meantime, let’s all get cleaned up and dressed. The parties start soon.”
Cass trailed behind as they made their way out of the dining room. She heard a sniffle behind her and turned to see Delia hurry through the mailroom to the side door. One hand played with her hair, shielding her face from view, while she used her other hand to dial her phone. Cass walked slower, waiting to see if someone would go after Delia to make sure she was okay; nobody did.
Cass showered upstairs and changed into her regulation white Pref Day dress. She was just stepping into her silver ballet flats when Ruby said, “The front desk called up while you were in the bathroom. They said there’s somebody here to see you. A ‘hot guy with tattoos’?”
Cass took a moment to let her heart calm, preparing herself to see Leo for the first time since their text-message argument—and the first time since photos of him and Mia Lancaster had popped up in her newsfeed.
She forced herself to walk casually down the grand staircase, fighting the urge to laugh when Leo came into view. There he stood in the foyer, surrounded by garlands of flowers and looking supremely uncomfortable as girls in white bustled about making last-minute party preparations. Leo had never been to the Sigma house before. Last year Cass had lived in the dorm for first semester, then second semester had turned out so harrowing that she’d purposefully kept Leo as an escape, not wanting to mix the two worlds.
“Hey,” said Cass. “What are you doing here?”
He turned with a slightly shell-shocked expression, looking for what Cass thought had to be the first time ever like a fish completely out of water.
“I was going to just drop off this package.” He held up a Quickie Mart bag. “But then it didn’t look like your parties had started yet, and it was early, so I thought I’d see if you . . .”
One of the seniors pushed past them, flashing a dirty look at Leo’s feet, which were leaving prints on the pristine white runner. Cass took him by the arm and pulled him out the side door, away from the stares of the other girls and into an environment much less rush-y.
“Wow,” he said once they were on the porch. He took in the sight of Cass in her party outfit, and she waited for him to make a joke. Instead he said, “You look amazing.”
“I look like a giant doll.” She swatted at a ruffle near her neckline; house rules called for “modest” dresses on Pref Day—no miniskirts or tight tops, which meant nearly everybody ended up looking like they were going to First Communion.
“But a beautiful giant doll,” Leo said.
Cass’s face went hot. Before allowing herself to care about Leo in this new and dangerous way, it didn’t exactly matter to her what he thought. But when she looked at him now, it was hard not to see him with a pretty new music major asleep on his shoulder.
He broke her gaze to look around. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in Greek captivity. I have to say, the habitat is pretty swanky. Do you have a butler, or is he not allowed on the carpet, either?”
Any thrill Cass had gotten from hearing him call her pretty vanished. She was starting to think he couldn’t resist being petty about Sigma.
“I’m not surprised you like the place,” she told him. “Considering it’s full of hot girls for you to flirt with.”
“They’re a little out of my league,” he responded. “Don’t you think?”
“I’m certainly not,” Cass said.
“Oh, really?” Leo’s brown eyes searched hers as an awkward silence fell over them. Deep down, Cass had always feared he would drift away under the assumption that she couldn’t be Greek and geek at the same time. What if her feelings for him and his feelings about Sigma clashed to the point where neither of them could move past it?
She pointed to the bag in Leo’s hand. “Is that for me? I’m going to have to go soon, so . . .”
He looked at the bag like he’d forgotten it was there. “Yeah,” he said, handing it over. “This is for tonight.”
Cass reached in and pulled out a black T-shirt.
HEADLESS DENVERS
DELANEY’S—AUGUST 24
PARTY YOUR HEAD OFF
Accompanying the shirt was a note in Leo’s blocky handwriting.
Can’t wait to see you—make sure you wear this!
“You’re still coming, right?” Leo said. “We could really use the help.”
Cass felt like telling him no—he could find someone else to help him who wasn’t part of the Greek system he despised so much. She also yearned to ask about Mia Lancaster, but she knew it would come out of nowhere and, because of that, reveal way too much about her true feelings. What she really needed was to take a break from Leo until after the craziness of rush was over. Then she could figure out how to watch him with someone else and not feel like her heart had been squashed in a closing door. She could figure out how to get over her feelings or admit them and pray it didn’t damage their friendship too badly. Or she could simply let him go. Until then, she knew she should leave him alone and focus on one drama at a time.
Still, she’d made a promise, and Leo had offered to let her perform. She put the shirt and note back into the bag and said, “I’ll be there.”
“No matter what? You won’t have some last-minute thing come up and skip on me again, will you?”
“Nothing will come up.”
“Okay.” He took a step toward the sidewalk. Cass could hear relief in his voice. “Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then?”
“Yes. Tonight.” She watched him head down to his car and drive away, wishing she could go back up to her room, take off her white dress, and spend the rest of the day in bed. She pulled the T-shirt out and read Leo’s note one more time. He couldn’t wait to see her, it said. Yet seeing her these days seemed to bring out the worst in him.
Something had definitely changed over the summer, and Cass had the sickening feeling their relationship would never be the same.
She shook her head, snapping out of it. She needed a break, and rush would have to be it. For the next few hours, at least, she would put her attention on something else. She turned from the street and went looking for someplace to throw out the T-shirt bag. She’d just lifted the lid off one of the garbage cans at the bottom of the side porch steps when she heard movement nearby. A few feet away, by the bushes that bordered the front of the house, stood Delia with her boyfriend, Ben.
Delia had her head on Ben’s chest and his arms were wrapped protectively around her. He must have come over from next door; from the pajama pants and rumpled T-shirt, it looked like he’d just gotten out of bed.
“Can I come over tonight?” Delia was saying.
Cass put the trash can lid down quietly and took a step backward so they’d be less likely to see her. She reached for the door, hoping to open it without making any noise; God knew she didn’t need to be eavesdropping again. The slightest turn made the old handle squeak, and Cass snatched her hands up under her chin, praying she hadn’t been heard.
“I’ve got a Beacon party tonight,” Ben said. “What about we have breakfast tomorrow instead?”
“Tomorrow is bid day. We’re welcoming the new pledge class first thing in the morning.”
“So spend an hour with them and then sneak off. It’s not like you haven’t been spending every waking second on recruitment already. You can take a break.”
“You talk about it like it’s something trivial.”
“Well, in the grand scheme of things it’s hardly international peacekeeping. Nobody’s curing cancer here.”
“That’s nice,” said Delia. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through these past few days.”
“I do have an idea. You’re grieving your dad, which is something you need to do. But you’re letting rush get caught up in that, too, and it’s making you sick.”
“Recruitment is giving me a goal to focus on, which is something my father would have wanted.”
“Really? Would he have wanted you to get so upset about something like this?”
Cass saw Delia push Ben’s arms away. “Something like this has a major impact on what happens to the future of Sigma. It’s my responsibility. Forgive me if I take it seriously.”
“Fine.” Ben threw up his hands. “Rush is what matters right now. I get it.”
“I wish it mattered more to you, too!” Delia said. “If you spent less time at the Beacon and more leading your own house, then we’d both be a lot better off.”
“God, please don’t start that again,” said Ben.
“Just forget it.” Delia hugged herself, looking cold even though the sun had already started to beat down. “I need to go change and—what was that?”
Cass pressed against the side door, trying to maintain her hiding place as Delia looked up at the roof. A sound came from up there, like pebbles rolling on slate.
“Are you supposed to have people putting decorations up that high?” Ben asked.
“We don’t have any that go up there,” Delia replied. “At least not today.”
Cass opened the side door, then slammed it shut and tramped on the floorboards of the porch like she’d just come outside. Delia and Ben were making their way to the front of the house. Delia shielded her eyes against the sun as she looked up at the third story.
Ca
ss looked up, too. No one was on the roof. But a window on the third floor—the window to Marianne McCourt’s room—stood open.
“Isn’t that where . . .” Ben began.
“Yes,” said Delia.
“Why would the window be open? That’s weird.”
“It’s probably just some of the other girls messing around.”
Ben took Delia’s hand, either unaware or not caring if Cass saw. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said. Are we cool here? Can I go back to bed?”
“Yes,” said Delia. “I’ll call you later.”
Cass watched as Ben kissed the top of Delia’s head. Then he headed back toward the OTE house while Delia stayed on the sidewalk, looking up at Marianne’s window. After a few seconds, she lowered her hand from her eyes and started up the front steps.
“Cassandra,” she called over her shoulder. “There’s a window open on the third floor. Please make sure it gets closed before the rushees get here.”
THIRTY
“So I cut Sigma,” Imogen said when Maddy came back to their room. She’d been sitting on her bed in her Pref Day dress, trying to surf for news about Tippy. But her attention kept drifting until she had to give up and admit that she was really just killing time, waiting for her roommate to get out of the shower.
Maddy stopped in the doorway with a blow-dryer in one hand and a shower caddy in the other. Her makeup was finished and her hair was dry. It looked like she’d done everything in the bathroom but get dressed.
“You really cut them?” It was the first thing she’d said since stomping out the night before.
“Yeah,” said Imogen.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Maddy went to her dresser and started flat ironing her hair.
“Yes, I did. I don’t belong there, and if I had to choose I know they wouldn’t be my top pick. But they’re perfect for you and you’re perfect for them. It’s not fair for me to stay and maybe take a spot from somebody who really wants it.”
Maddy eyed Imogen in the mirror. “What about your mom?”
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