Dirty Rush

by Taylor Bell

  “Well, Dad, I am upset about it,” Kelly said. “And who does this Matt character think he is anyway, asking Jess to marry him without getting my permission? It’s rude. It’s just not proper.” Kelly flung the refrigerator door open, “Jesus. Is there any coconut water in this godforsaken home?”

  “Well, Matthew did ask me, and I’m pretty sure that’s the standard custom, so . . .” my dad added. “I’m going upstairs to finish my episode of Game of Thrones.”

  “You watch that crap, Dad?” I asked.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “It’s like dragons and midgets and stuff,” said Kelly, still looking through the contents of our parents’ fully stocked fridge.

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “Bye, Dad.”

  My dad disappeared up the stairs.

  “You can’t choose your family, but you can choose not to be around them,” Kelly said with a smile. “Wanna help me unpack?”

  I just smiled back. I didn’t exactly feel like helping anyone do anything at that moment, but I knew that Kelly really meant she wanted to hang out. I wanted to hang out with her too. We’d emailed and Skyped a handful of times while she was away, but obviously I’d been busy at school and she had her own responsibilities with the internship, so we hadn’t properly caught up. Not to mention that she’d been seven thousand miles away with limited Internet access. For the first time maybe ever, we had a lot to talk about. So up to her room with all of her shit we went.

  “OH MY GOD, I’m so fucking happy to be home right now,” Kelly said, flopping face-first onto her bed.

  “I’m over it already, but I guess if I’d been in Africa for the past six months I’d feel differently.” I laid down next to her.

  “Yeah. I don’t know.”

  “Kel, I’m really proud of you for doing the internship. I wasn’t sure how you’d handle living in a developing nation, honestly. But you totally did and I think it’s amazing.”

  “It wasn’t that big a deal. It went really fast.”

  “Yes, it is a big deal. You helped people who don’t have as much as we do. You made modern medicine readily available to them. Are you kidding me?”

  “Um, okay. Enough about my boring life. Tell me what’s been going on with you. Can you please tell me, in detail, how my hippie, women’s lib, completely anti-Greek sister ended up rushing Beta Zeta?”

  “Jack.”

  “What? Who?”

  “In a word: Jack. That’s kind of how I ended up meeting the girls and rushing.”

  “Swanson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God. I’m jealous.”

  “Ew!”

  “So . . . how did that pan out?”

  “I mean, it’s been almost three months and we’re still together. I think he likes me.”

  “Duh,” she said, “I can see it. He’s fucking hot and always seemed like a really nice guy.”

  “So, you have no horrible dirt on him that I need to know immediately?”

  “I got nothing,” Kelly admitted.

  “Good! I mean it’s not like I thought you would, but I’m still relieved to hear that my instincts were right.”

  “So, what? You thought that you had to join a sorority to get him to like you?”

  “Not at all. I fell for Jack, but I also fell for the girls in the chapter. I’m making a lot of good friends.”

  I continued to walk Kelly through all the steps that led to me loving the girls and ultimately pledging. Telling her my story was kind of amazing—partly because the fall semester had been such a whirlwind that it was fun for me to talk it through and process it all. But also because it was probably the first conversation that I’d ever had with Kelly where I felt like we were speaking the same language.

  “So, you just pretty much skipped rush altogether? Jesus, they dirty rushed the shit out of you,” Kelly said, pushing a stack of T-shirts into a drawer. “That’s fucking insane. The chapter could get so much heat from the Panhel for pulling that shit.”

  “Well, they drove a hard bargain, and when they came to my rescue me after I fell at that first Omega Sig party . . . it really made a big difference.”

  “But still, I told Colette that there was no way in Hades you were even a pursuable option when you got accepted last year. I’m surprised they even approached you at all.”

  “Well, I was at a frat party looking pretty cute.”

  “Because of Jack.”

  “True.”

  “I’m just still in shock. Was Colette there when you were approached?”

  “Meg was the first one to come up to me. She’s an acquired taste but I’ve learned to love her.”

  “Okay . . . When I was away I didn’t really think about it too much. But now that I’m sitting here with you, I kind of get it and it kind of freaks me out.”

  “We shall steadfastly love each other.”

  “Wowwww. You’re really buying into the sisterly love over there.”

  I laughed at myself. “Hey, I’m still the same Taylor who thinks the whole thing is pretty silly, but now I’m just more willing to try things I’d never done before.”

  “So being in a sorority has made you less judgmental, how is that possible?”

  “I always assumed that you and Jess and all of your cute little friends in cute little dresses just joined a house to meet guys, get drunk, and have fun. But the friendships I’ve made, the work the chapter does with the children’s hospital, the bonds people have with each other, and the loyalty is really fucking cool. I mean, do you honestly think you would’ve gotten on a plane the day after graduation to go help people in Africa if you’d never been a BZ?”

  “You’re right. I one-hundred-percent would not have.”

  “Yes. I am right. It’s a good organization.”

  “Well, damn,” she said, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “I guess it’s nice to hear you say that about Beta Zeta. Fucking insane that it’s coming out of your mouth, but still. I’m gonna lay down for a few minutes . . . slash twenty-four hours.”

  “Okay, do it. Love you. Get some rest,” I said and got up from her bed.

  “Hey, Tay,” Kelly stopped me before shutting her bedroom door behind me, “I know you’re fucking in it right now. And the girls have brought you in under their wing, but just be careful.”

  “Oh . . . kay.”

  “I’m just saying that sometimes the excitement of the whole Greek world can be intoxicating. Not everyone in that house has the house’s best interests in mind. It’s like with anything else, girls will do whatever it takes to get to the top and stay there. I just don’t want you to lose your good judgment of people. You were always really good at trusting your instincts.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “Just don’t forget who you were before you pledged. That’s it. Really.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Kelly raised her eyebrows.

  “I fucking promise you that I won’t let those bitches change me, okay?”

  “ ’Kay, see you in a bit.”

  “Sleep well, Kelly.”

  I shut her door and went into my room, which, by comparison to Kelly’s, was still pristine and untouched. My mom and dad have a tendency to turn their kids’ bedrooms into home gyms and offices. Jessica’s room had become my mom’s office/beading/jewelry/crafts room when I was in high school and Kelly’s, from the looks of it, was more fitness center than bedroom. When your bedroom has an elliptical, weights, and a bunch of yoga mats rolled up in a corner, your childhood is officially over.

  I passed out for a little while until I was called down to dinner. Kelly, who I guess was getting special treatment from my parents, given her recent “exhausting travel,” slept through dinner. My mom’s Thai lettuce wraps were just as good as I’d remembered. I may have eaten nine of them.

  15.

  PROMISES

  I woke up the mo
rning of Christmas day to an adorable text from Jack. He’d been really good about keeping in touch while we were apart.

  Jack 9:32AM Good morning. Hope you’re enjoying fam time. Mine seems to have gotten more insane which I thought was impossible. Missing you, babe xoxo

  Taylor 9:45AM Hiya:) miss you too. Have a great day today, let’s chat later. Gonna go help my mom with xmas festivities etc xoxo

  Pepped up by our little text exchange, I showered and threw on some shorts and Jack’s sweatshirt before coming downstairs. The next few hours were spent sitting by the tree, opening presents (I got an iPad and a gift card to Sephora), making dinner and watching Love Actually for the four thousandth time. By late afternoon we’d moved into the dining room to set the table.

  “So, have you gone overboard with the jazziness level of this spectacular table setting because you’re bored and suffering from empty nest syndrome?” I asked my mother as we brought trivets and napkins into the dining room. I must’ve struck a nerve because she didn’t look amused. “Or is it supposed to make Kelly feel special upon her return to the ‘real world,’ as you and Dad like to call anywhere but Africa?”

  “Oh, Taylor, please. I’m so sick of you thinking of me as a racist. I referred to home as the ‘real world’ once. This is her real world, that . . . where Kelly was . . . that was just very different. That’s all I was saying.”

  “Fine.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Neither of us realized that Kelly was standing in the doorway at the other end of the long, wallpapered room.

  “Don’t give Mom shit for trying to make me happy, Taylor,” Kelly said.

  “I’m not giving anyone shit! It was an honest question.”

  “I feel like you’re a bigger bitch since you joined BZ.”

  We were standing on either side of the table.

  “Completely possible,” I admitted.

  “Okay,” my mom said, surveying the table, “this is looking really, really nice. We’ll eat at six. I’m going up to wash my face and get dressed. And I’ll ask you both now to make sure there aren’t any ‘shit’s or ‘bitch’es during dinner, please?”

  “Sure,” my sister and I said in unison, and my mom was off.

  Kelly followed me into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from the fridge.

  “It’s creepy how into Christmas she is this year,” she said.

  “Right? It’s not like you just got out of prison or anything.”

  “It kind of feels like I did.”

  Kelly poured us each a glass of rosé champagne.

  “I think Mom’s just lonely as fuck,” she said after taking a gulp.

  “I think you’re right. I told her to make new friends.”

  “Maybe she should find some friends who do things other than raise money for cancer kids.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What?”

  “We just started planning the benefit for the children’s hospital.”

  “Ewwww, and you’re on the committee?”

  “Unfortunately,” I said. Although I really didn’t mind.

  “Of course you are. God, they must be eating you up,” she said, looking into her wineglass.

  “They definitely are. It’s weird.”

  “But you don’t hate it?”

  “No, I don’t hate it.”

  She finished her glass with another swig. I wondered if she should be drinking so much.

  “Alright,” I said, refilling my glass and then Kelly’s, “I’m gonna try to sleep for an hour before dinner.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Sis.”

  By the time I threw myself together and got down for dinner, somewhat dazed by my nap and fifteen minutes late because of it, my mom and sister were chatting over a salad and wine about something Michelle Obama had recently worn.

  “Thanks for waiting,” I said with a forced smile, pulling out my chair. The same chair I’d sat in since kindergarten.

  My dad scowled back. “You’re late.”

  “Sorry, everyone. Attack of the nap monster; he wouldn’t let me go.”

  “I don’t know how you sleep so much,” said Kelly. “I never want to sleep again. I feel like it’s all I did when I was away.”

  My mom shot her a somewhat concerned glance. I didn’t know why, and it was awkward.

  “I didn’t realize Zambians slept so much. I think of them more as a working culture,” I offered.

  “Can we talk about something besides me for a second?” Kelly half-moaned as she took a bite of kale caeser salad, a new (and trendy) addition to my mom’s holiday spread.

  I wasn’t gonna let her off that easy. I wanted to know more. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s all we’ve talked about!” Kelly said a bit too loudly for the room.

  “Okay. First, we have not even talked about it. I feel like I know nothing about your trip, and Mom and Dad told me not to pry because you’re tired. And second, I haven’t exactly felt open talking to you about all the fun BZ shit I’ve been doing because you’re all weird about me joining and saying I shouldn’t trust them and shit—”

  “Taylor Bell!” my mom shouted. “No ‘shit’s! You promised!”

  “Fine. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” my mom continued. “Can we all please take a breather and—”

  “No, Mom, let us have this moment. I need to try communicating with my sister here,” I shot back. “Kelly. What is going on?”

  “I can’t with you right now, Tay.” She slammed her fork down, making both my father and mother gasp. She looked at their side of the table. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “You can’t do what anymore?” I asked.

  Kelly’s gaze adjusted toward me but settled near my plate, never making it all the way to my eyes. She stared blankly for a second.

  “Okay, so . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “I never went to Africa.”

  Silence. My eyes darted around to everyone in my family. Blank stares.

  “Um,” I was able to spit out, “what do you mean?”

  “I never went to Africa.”

  “Right. I heard you, I just don’t understand what that means, Kelly.”

  My dad put his utensils politely down on either side of his salad.

  “Taylor, sweetie,” he said, “we were going to tell you, but you’d just decided to go to CDU and we didn’t want all of this to affect how you felt about where you were headed. Then when you decided to do the sorority thing, none of us expected you would actually want to join . . .”

  “I did. I knew she would,” interjected my mom.

  I was still completely lost. “What is going on here? What does this have to do with me?”

  Then I got hit with that sickening feeling of doubt that creeps up when you realize a cop is driving behind you. Even though you’re not speeding and there’s no pot or alcohol in your car, you’re able to convince yourself that you’ve done something horribly illegal and your mind immediately sends you to prison . . . for life.

  Kelly looked me in the eyes.

  “Last year, when I graduated and we told everyone that I’d gotten into the program to go to Zambia . . . that was a lie. Teaching the nurses there how to use sonograms and everything, that was all a lie. Straight up.”

  “Okay . . . uh . . . then . . . what actually happened?” I was doing my best not to raise my voice. My family doesn’t do well when children raise voices at dinner tables.

  “Well,” Kelly took a sip of water, “the short version is that Colette and I were selling Adderall . . . to students . . . lots of it . . . and we got caught.”

  “Uhh . . .”

  “And instead of telling everyone and embarrassing our family, the school, and our chapter, I took the fall and was shipped off to a fucking drug rehab center in New Hampshire that the dean of students picked out.”

  “No ‘fuck’s either, please, girls,” my mo
m said quietly, and took another bite of salad.

  For the first time in a long time, I was speechless. And only half aware of what was going on. Too much was flying through my head. I couldn’t process it all at once. Colette. The girls. Who else knew? Jack? After screaming, “I thought I knew you people!” at all three of them like a crazy woman, I pushed my chair back, stood up, and stormed out of the dining room.

  16.

  FROZEN-YOGURT MACHINES

  My parents were calling for me to sit back down. I ran through the kitchen and onto the screened-in porch. I slammed the screen door behind me and threw myself down on my favorite couch in the house. It’s green with lavender-colored embroidered pillows; it’s been around since I can remember and was always my nap spot of choice. But today I just sat there, head spinning, at a loss for how to process Kelly’s confession.

  After a few minutes, I heard someone’s footsteps.

  “Hey,” Kelly said from behind the screen. I didn’t feel like making eye contact, so I just kept looking out into the backyard.

  “What the fuck, Kelly?”

  “It’s insane. I know.” She came and sat down next to me on the couch.

  “I can’t deal with Mom and Dad right now, so I hope they’re not following you.”

  “I told them to let me talk to you,” she said. “Will you let me talk to you?”

  “But, like, what the fuck? What happened? Who knows besides us?”

  “Okay . . . I—” she started.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I feel like a fucking idiot.”

  “Stop,” she put her arm around me. This was the most affectionate I’d seen my sister since I was in elementary school. “I’m gonna tell you everything right now.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “Just a second.” Kelly shot up, went inside, and grabbed two beers from the fridge. My dad drank Corona Lights, which I normally wouldn’t drink, but I couldn’t refuse anything alcoholic at this juncture.

  “I’m just going to tell you exactly what happened,” she said, sitting back down next to me.

  “And then you’re going to tell me why no one wanted me to know. Why you never told me.”

  “Okay, yes, fine. All of that.”

  “I don’t understand how keeping me in the dark is protecting me—”