Rush

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Rush Page 18

by Sara Bennett Wealer


  She meant it in the best way possible. There was so much Cass wanted to tell this girl—how she understood the seductiveness of Sigma, but also how, when you got in at the end of the week and saw what really happened on the other side of the red door, then being a Sigma didn’t come close to comparing to whatever idea you’d built up in your head. Cass liked Madeleine Christopher; she deserved better than what had happened to Cass and her pledge class.

  Maddy’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me I’m not going to make it in?”

  “No!” Cass dropped Maddy’s hand. “I didn’t say that at all.”

  Maddy took a step backward. “Because I don’t think you’re allowed to be telling us stuff like that. In fact, I know all the rules and I’m positive you’re not.”

  Cass reached out again, trying to get to the door before Maddy did. A bad feeling crept over her; something had just gone terribly wrong. “I’m only trying to help . . .”

  But Maddy whirled around and grabbed the doorknob. No matter what angle Cass tried to reach over her, she threw up a shoulder to cut her off. After a minute they stopped sparring, but Maddy refused to look at Cass.

  “I think the best way you can help is to take me back to the party,” she said.

  “Okay . . .” said Cass as the bad feeling spread to her stomach.

  Maddy bolted into the foyer and Cass followed just in time to see her nearly collide with Delia, who was making her way from the sitting room to the parlor. Maddy tried to hide a sniffle as she adjusted her skirt.

  “Everything okay?” Delia asked.

  “Yes,” Maddy muttered before scurrying away. “Everything’s fine.”

  Cass headed back toward the sitting room, praying Delia wouldn’t notice her. But Delia never got the chance because Marina came hurrying in from the dining room, all out of breath.

  “Greek Council is on the phone,” she told Delia. “As soon as this party’s over, they want all house presidents on an emergency conference call. It sounds serious.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Maddy caught up to Imogen as they filed out of the Sigma house.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  “Can we talk about this later?” Imogen whispered back. She pushed through the crowded foyer to Delia, who shook her hand with a warm, “Thank you for coming.”

  Maddy took her turn next, giving Delia her most sincere smile. When she was sure they were safely past the view of the sisters, she whispered again. “You said you cut Sigma. What happened?”

  Imogen let her hair fall forward as they followed the other rushees down the sidewalk. “I was going to talk to you about it but you’d already gotten on your bus. I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

  “But you said . . .”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. But when I thought more about it I realized I just can’t hurt my mom like that. Sigma is all she really wants for me. If I cut them, it would seriously kill her.”

  Maddy slowed down, letting it all sink in. She could understand Imogen’s mother wanting to carry on the family legacy, but there were too many things about the situation that didn’t make sense.

  “But you already cut them,” she pressed. “You said you checked the box. You can’t just change it after that.”

  “I asked Alex, and she said it was okay. I made a mistake. It happens.”

  Imogen started up the steps. Maddy stayed close behind.

  “But you’re not supposed to change once you make a cut. I don’t think they’re supposed to let you. That’s not how it works.”

  Imogen stopped suddenly. She pushed her hair behind her ears and turned to face Maddy.

  “Look. You’re not the only person who cares about this kind of thing. Believe it or not, it’s just as important to me as it is to you.”

  “But you said . . .”

  “I know what I said.” Imogen worked her way down the bus aisle, to an empty seat, and slumped down next to the window. “But I was wrong. All right? Are you going to sit or not?”

  Maddy couldn’t see any other seats that she could get to without climbing over a bunch of sweaty bodies, so she slid in next to her roommate.

  “I seriously don’t want to fight,” Imogen told her. “Okay?”

  “All right,” said Maddy.

  But the more she thought about it, the more confused and angry she got. Imogen seemed to think she could just cut off the conversation and Maddy would go along with it. As the bus pulled away and started to crawl through campus, she checked her phone for messages from Logan. He’d promised to call but there was nothing from him, either. Even he’d gone back on his word.

  Imogen didn’t say anything else all the way back to the dorm. She just looked out the window while Maddy looked at her blank phone screen, wondering how they were going to get through the last night of rush, let alone the rest of freshman year together, if they couldn’t trust each other.

  The bus pulled up to the dorm and Maddy jumped to her feet. “Maddy, wait . . . ,” Imogen called, but Maddy nudged ahead in line. She needed to be alone. Maybe she could spend a couple of hours walking around campus, then slip back just in time for bed so she wouldn’t have to deal with anybody else until the next morning, when bids were handed out and everything was decided.

  But Alex, their Rho Chi, was waiting out on the sidewalk.

  “Emergency meeting in the TV room,” she said. “Right now.”

  Maddy clenched her fists. The urge to sneak away was so strong, but the rule-following part of her won out. She went with the rest of the rushees up the elevator to the commons, where they stood in their dresses, looking curious and worried. When everyone had made it up, Alex joined them.

  “We’ve had a problem with rushees having contact with sisters during the evenings,” she said. “In bars and restaurants, especially.”

  Maddy’s heart lurched as she thought about that first night at Amigos. Could it still come back and hurt her?

  “We’ve had to discipline two rushees from another dorm,” Alex went on. “Everybody should know by now that speaking with actives anywhere besides an official rush party is against the rules. But apparently, some people don’t feel the rules apply to them.”

  Maddy’s heart jumped again, but this time it was relief. She was safe. Along with the relief came a rush of vindication as she remembered her conversation with the girl at Sigma who’d basically told her she didn’t have a chance at getting a bid.

  The handbook called that kind of thing “dirty rushing,” and from the sound of things, people had been doing it all week. It wasn’t just her imagination.

  “For that reason,” Alex continued, “we’re putting everybody on lockdown for the remainder of recruitment, which, luckily for you, ends tomorrow. We’ll bring in pizza for dinner and movies if you get bored. But tonight, no one is allowed to leave the dorm. Tomorrow when bids come in, many of you will have choices to make and you need to make them on your own with no prompting or promises from the sisters.”

  Groans rose up here and there, but most people looked ready—even grateful—to settle in for the evening. For Maddy, though, it meant no getting away. She would have to hang out with all the other rushees until morning.

  As she trudged back to her room, her phone rang.

  “Hey, Maddy.”

  Something inside her snapped at the sound of Logan’s voice. “Where’ve you been?” she demanded.

  “What . . . ?”

  “You said you’d call me. It’s been two days now. Where have you been?”

  “Um . . . I’m not really supposed to talk about it. Building the brotherhood and all that.”

  “Were you with Miranda? Or Peyton. Your Big Sister. Have you been sneaking around with her, too?”

  “Who?” Now he sounded angry. “No! What are you talking about?”

  Once Maddy had started talking she couldn’t stop.

  “According to Miranda, you’ve been avoiding me because you think I can’t handle your problems. Well, I
can handle a boyfriend who isn’t perfect. What I can’t handle is a boyfriend who lies to me.”

  “Maddy,” he said, and everything about the tone of his voice told her he thought she was being unreasonable. “First of all, I did call like I said I would. I’m calling you right now. It took me awhile because I’ve spent the last thirty-six hours running laps around the parking lot, eating nothing but canned pickle loaf, and getting lined up with the rest of my pledge class and being told I’m dirt by the actives. Second of all, I said I was sorry about Miranda. I said I wanted to work this out. Don’t you trust me?”

  He sounded so calm and logical. This was why she’d believed him when he’d told her he believed in her—that she could count on him. All along, though, he’d been cheating.

  She sat on the line, letting the silence speak, until he finally said, “Look, I have to go. We’ve got another lineup in ten minutes. But I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you, and I promise I’ll call again. I do want us to work things out.”

  “Does Miranda know that? She seems to think you’re still with her.”

  “She’s been a good friend. I’m trying not to hurt her . . .”

  “So you’re still talking to her?”

  “I told you it’s complicated.”

  “Well uncomplicate it!” Maddy shouted. “Decide who you want. But I am done being lied to. Do you hear that? Done! Have a good time with your lineup tonight. And just in case you missed it the first ten million times I said it, hazing is totally illegal!”

  Imogen came in just as she was cramming her phone back into her purse. Maddy threw herself onto the bed, turning her back to her roommate.

  “Maddy listen,” Imogen said. “About Sigma. The people where I come from . . . You don’t understand what it’s like trying to fit in with them-—”

  “I can’t believe you just said that,” Maddy responded. “I don’t understand not fitting in? You don’t know anything about me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. And I want to get to know you better away from rush. This whole week—it’s too much pressure. Have you ever stopped to think whether it’s worth it?”

  Maddy narrowed her eyes. “You’re the second person today who’s told me I should give up.”

  “Excuse me? That’s not what I’m saying at all . . .”

  “Then what are you saying?” Maddy went to her closet and started pulling dirty clothes from the hamper inside. “My dad sells mattresses and my mom’s an administrative assistant at an insurance company,” she said as she shoved sundresses and skirts—all of the expensive things she’d bought for rush—into a laundry bag. “I was lucky to get piano lessons, let alone an internship at the Louvre. Every single thing I’ve achieved in my life I have had to work for. Meanwhile you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter.”

  “That is so not true,” said Imogen.

  “Then how come you’ve got every house on campus slobbering over you? Is it because you’re so very, very special as a person, or is it because you’re Imogen Ash?”

  “Can you even hear yourself?” Imogen snatched away a dirty cardigan, forcing Maddy to look her in the eye. “It’s like you think you’re not special without Sigma. You’re stuck on it like it’s going to fix everything that’s wrong in your life. It’s not going to change who you are. Or bring back your boyfriend.”

  Maddy glared at Imogen, anger pounding through her body. “Sigma is something that I deserve,” she hissed, grabbing the sweater back. “This is a goal that I have worked for. I’m sick of being overlooked. I’m so sick of it I could puke.”

  “Fine,” said Imogen. “Then go ahead and make yourself sick. I’m sick of worrying about it.”

  She went to her side of the room and shrugged out of her Pref Day dress, leaving it in a pile on the floor. She went to her dresser, took out a pair of jeans and started pulling them on.

  “Where are you going?” said Maddy.

  “Out,” said Imogen. “There’s a Beacon party tonight.”

  “You can’t go out.”

  “You’re going to stop me?”

  Maddy watched her roommate put on a gauzy tank top, brush her hair and then put on makeup. Imogen had said rush was important to her but now she was going to violate the lockdown, which could get her kicked out. It didn’t make sense.

  Unless.

  “Where are you really going?” Maddy asked.

  “God,” Imogen groaned. “Not everything is a huge conspiracy, Maddy. What do you think? I’m going to run off and meet up with the Sigmas so we can plot how I’m going to get a bid from them tomorrow?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “Right. You’re a real rocket scientist.”

  Imogen turned, and the sloppy girl from the first day of rush had been transformed. All dressed up for the evening, she looked like a supermodel. “As a matter of fact, Maddy, I am a rocket scientist,” she said. “I’m also an Olympic-caliber equestrian; fluent in French, Spanish, and Portuguese; and a National Merit Scholar.”

  Maddy stuck out her lip, determined not to look embarrassed. “Well, congratulations. You’re obviously better than I am in every possible way.”

  “Look,” Imogen sighed. “I’m not trying to make a big deal out of all that stuff. Just . . . quit talking to me like I’m an idiot all the time.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll talk to you like you’re a backstabber.”

  “You know what? This is an exercise in futility.” Imogen grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I don’t need this. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The slamming door was like the answer to a question that had been forming in Maddy’s mind over the past three days, so slowly at first that she hadn’t even realized there might be something to ask. Imogen would walk out of the dorm, go to wherever she was going, and she wouldn’t get caught. Rules didn’t apply to Imogen Ash. Rules were bent and changed and turned inside out for girls like her.

  And Maddy, well . . . everything that had happened that day worked together to confirm what she’d suspected all along: Dirty rushing happened. In fact, it was probably happening right at that very moment.

  But what could she, sweet little Maddy Christopher, do about it?

  Day 4

  Evening

  THIRTY-FOUR

  One by one, the sisters of Sigma Theta Kappa filed into a dining room cleared of everything but tables and chairs, a projector and laptop, and a set of colored paddles in front of every seat. Instead of yoga pants and T-shirts, the sisters wore black robes, in recognition of the important decisions they were about to make. Delia stood at the front of the room holding a fat white candle. One by one, the girls filed past her, each one stopping to hold her palm over the flame, just close enough to feel a hint of pain. This was one of Sigma’s most sacred rituals, and it symbolized the dual nature of the power they held—the ability to provide warmth and hospitality but also to burn through misplaced priorities.

  Cass hovered her own hand over the candle, wondering how so many around her had managed to miss this second meaning. She closed her fist around the warm spot on her palm and took her place at her own table while Delia joined Marina at the projector.

  Cass’s phone vibrated against her thigh. She peeked into her robe pocket. It was Leo.

  Sorry I was an ass earlier. Can you be here by ten?

  Cass read the text a couple of times, trying to decide how she felt about it. Was he apologizing because he meant it or because he needed help?

  And how badly did it suck that she found herself asking those questions at all?

  She thumbed a reply, figuring backing out would only make things worse. As soon as voting’s over, she wrote.

  Xcellent, came his fast reply.

  Ruby stole a glance over Cass’s shoulder. “I don’t think you can go,” she whispered. “Word is they’re getting ready to put us on some sort of lockdown.”

  Sure enough, once all of the sisters were in place D
elia cleared her throat. “Before we get started, I have something important to discuss,” she announced. “Last night the Beta Phis were caught dirty rushing.”

  A huge gasp went up. Everybody sat forward, straining for the details.

  “One of their actives was seen talking to some rushees at a bar downtown. When confronted, both admitted it was about recruitment. The rushees have been disqualified and the Beta Phis will have the rest of their bids entered last at Greek Council, which effectively renders their first picks forfeited. They will take whatever candidates are left after the other houses have extended invitations and collected their new pledge classes.”

  Murmurs burbled up, surprised and deliciously excited. With the Beta Phis out of competition, Sigma would be more likely to get its top picks.

  Delia held up her arms for silence. “To prevent any more problems, all of the rushees are on a strict curfew. And so is Sigma. From now until nine a.m. tomorrow, no one is to leave this house.”

  Murmurs turned into shouts of alarm. Aimee Wu raised her hand. “Are the other houses locked in, too?”

  “No,” said Delia. “But I’m making the call for Sigma. With bids going out tomorrow I don’t want to take any chances. There’ll be plenty of time for going out when recruitment is over.”

  “This is bullshit,” Cass whispered to Ruby. She had a life outside of rush; she couldn’t just bail on it. She slid her hand to her phone to text Leo but stopped when Delia focused those steely eyes on her.

  “Are we ready?” Delia asked.

  Cass shoved the phone back into her pocket and started to sing. “O Sigma Theta Kappa . . .”

  As the other sisters joined in, Marina dimmed the lights until the only illumination came from the screen at the front of the room. As soon as they’d recited the Sigma pledge, the first photograph appeared.

  “Lauren Hubbard,” droned Delia. “What say you, sisters?”

  Silently, the sisters reached for their paddles. Tonight there would be no debating, and the colored paddles didn’t stand for yes and no votes. Tonight the paddles stood for lists.

 

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