Sorority of Three: Freshman 101

by Melissa Brown

  Darren and I had flirted. A lot. I’d enjoyed messing with him, even though it seemed to affect Darcy more than it did him.

  I don’t like jealous. I don’t do jealous. If someone didn’t like me, they could keep on walking.

  Darcy, however, was another story. She was the queen of jealousy.

  One night I had stayed at Darcy’s house and had been paying a lot of attention to Darren. It was bothering her and I kind of liked that. I’d liked making her a little bit angry, exerting a little bit of control in a relationship that was normally controlled by her.

  For once, I was on the stage. It was my three-act play and she was in the front seat of the theater. It felt good, and I felt powerful. It was an addictive feeling.

  We were playing pool in their basement, and every time Darren tried to sink a shot, I’d mess with him—knock the pool stick, bump into him, that kind of childish seventh-grade bullshit. And he loved every second.

  Darcy stood up, her brown hair spilling past her tense shoulders. She was angrier than I’d ever seen her, with her lips pursed and her hand gripping her pool stick for dear life. “Um, Claude, can I talk to you for a second?”

  “After the game, Darce,” I said with a chuckle. “Now, be quiet, Darren’s trying to concentrate.”

  Darcy glared at me. Glared. At. Me. I thought her head was going to pop off of her tiny body. “Seriously, Claude. I need to talk to you.”

  “Ugh,” I’d said, rolling my eyes. “You’re so annoying!”

  Darcy had gasped and dropped her pool cue, always so dramatic.

  “Oh, Dar—” I had said, glancing up, only to find she was gone. She had stormed off, leaving me alone with her brother.

  The memory of that night always left me a little unsettled.

  Upon arriving at the coffeehouse, I settled into a comfortable table in the corner and immediately silenced my phone. The warm fragrance of coffee washed over me as I reached down to gather my textbook, notebook, and pen, and prepared to settle in for at least two hours of hardcore studying.

  “Hi there,” said an unrecognizable but friendly voice.

  A young woman with light blonde hair and blue eyes was standing next to my table, smiling politely. Her pale skin was lightly spattered with freckles, and she had a soft, genuine smile. Never one to shy away from anyone on campus, I smiled in return.

  “Oh, hey. I’m Claudia.”

  “I know. I’m Libby,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. “We have Spanish together. Wednesday mornings.”

  “Oh geez, I’m sorry. I’m pretty out of it on Wednesdays. That class meets so freaking early.”

  “Yeah, it’s my only eight a.m. class. But I don’t really mind it.” Libby smiled.

  “Ugh. How do you stand it?” I asked, curious.

  “Well, I’m kind of a morning person. I wake up to run before class anyway.” Libby shrugged. She looked around and motioned toward the empty chair across from me. “Would it be all right if I sit? It looks like you’re studying, so—”

  “No, of course not. Please sit down.” Suddenly talking to Libby seemed so much more interesting then anything else on the agenda. “So, what year are you?”

  “Sophomore,” Libby replied, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “And you?”

  “Freshman.”

  “Cool,” she said with a nod.

  “Where do you live on campus? I’m still in the dorms.” I rolled my eyes.

  “The dorms aren’t so bad. I lived in one last year. This year I have an apartment with a couple of friends.”

  “That’s awesome,” I said. “I can’t wait to have an apartment.”

  “We live over on Busse Avenue. Not too far from here.” She pointed out the window toward her place. “Which dorm are you in?”

  “Weston. It’s pretty cool. I have a couple of really good friends on my floor, which makes it much easier to take.” I leaned in to sip my coffee.

  Libby blushed and looked at my mouth. Suddenly I became self-conscious, which was very unlike me.

  “What is it?” I asked, unexpectedly feeling on display.

  “You just…you have a little coffee above your lip,” Libby said.

  “Oh Lord.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin and Libby giggled. “What? Did I not get it?” I asked with a groan.

  “Oh no, it’s nothing,” Libby said reassuringly. “You just have a bit more on your nose. Here, let me.” She reached forward with a napkin to gently wipe the tip of my nose.

  My cheeks quickly heated up. Libby smiled in a friendly way as she placed the napkin in the middle of the table. She obviously didn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable, yet I was. And I wasn’t sure why. But I didn’t want her to leave either.

  “Are you in house?” I asked, meaning, Are you Greek?

  Please say no, please say no, please say no.

  I had no intention of joining a house. I was my own person and didn’t want to be told what to do. No way did I want to be told to volunteer at the shelter, or to get my grades up; I had my parents for that already. Sure, I had a few friends on the floor who were pledging, but I preferred to do my own thing. And I hoped Libby was the same.

  “Oh God, no,” she said with a chuckle before sipping her drink.

  “Oh good. I wasn’t sure.”

  “It’s not for me,” she said. “One of my roommates is pledging and she’s miserable all the time. She had to sleep at the house a few times last week and she was exhausted.”

  I nodded. “No, thanks.”

  “Exactly. But to each his own, ya know?” Libby said with a shrug. It was then that I noticed how gentle her voice was. She was sweet and unassuming…the exact opposite of me.

  “Any big Halloween plans?” she asked.

  “Just a party. With my business frat.”

  “Cool,” she said, taking another sip of her drink.

  “What about you?”

  “Bar crawl—Trick or Drink. You get candy and beer. Our neighbors organized it. Should be fun.”

  I smiled. “Candy and beer? Sounds fantastic! I’m jealous.”

  “Don’t worry. It probably sounds a lot better than it is. My friends aren’t exactly big partiers. We’ll probably end up watching movies at our apartment after hitting a few bars.”

  “Gotcha. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

  Libby paused, a smile pulling at her mouth. She looked surprised and I couldn’t quite translate that smile. It was cryptic but sweet.

  “I will,” she said simply.

  Libby and I talked for two hours as we both completely ignored the study materials sitting on the table. She was an intriguing person. Originally from the southern part of the state, she hadn’t quite outgrown the tiny twang in her voice. Tiny dimples winked in her cheeks when she smiled, which was often. She was, in a word, lovely.

  “Oh no,” Libby said as she looked at her watch. “I have to run. I promised my roommates I’d be home around noon.”

  “No worries.” I smiled at her, trying hard to hide my disappointment. I didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. Studying be damned.

  “I wish I could stay longer,” she said, as if reading my mind. “But I’ll see you in Spanish class on Wednesday, right?” She looked at me with hopeful eyes.

  “Definitely.” I began to feel excited and anxious, which was a first for me. Why was I feeling that way? Why should I care if this Libby person had to go? I had studying to do! But I did care…and I wasn’t sure why.

  “Hey, maybe I could get your e-mail address?” Libby asked. “That way we can get in touch later. You know, about Spanish…or whatever.”

  “Sure,” I said, scribbling down my e-mail address, dorm room phone number, and cell number, even though she hadn’t asked for them.

  Libby giggled softly to herself as she read over all the information on the scrap of paper, and suddenly I was self-conscious all over again. My breathing quickened and my heart started to pound. She leaned in, placed her hand over mine, and said, “It was so
nice to finally talk to you, Claudia.”

  “Finally?” I asked, surprised.

  Her cheeks turned red. “Yeah, I mean…since classes began.”

  “Really? Why didn’t you say hi or something?” I tilted my head in confusion, trying to understand. Was I that intimidating? That bitchy that she wouldn’t talk to me?

  “I was nervous.” She paused and bit her lip, her hands fidgeting. After clearing her throat, she added, “I had you built up in my head, and you’re everything I’d hoped you’d be.”

  And with that, she quickly turned and walked away.

  Thank God! If she had stayed, she would have seen my ridiculous reaction. I was dumbfounded, flustered, and bewitched. My heart was racing inside my chest, and the electricity from her hand was like nothing I had ever felt in my life. Sweat beaded on my brow and my cheeks burned like crazy. I was sure they were pure crimson.

  Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! What was happening to me? And why in the hell was I so eager for Wednesday morning to arrive?

  Suddenly I was transported back into that shameful memory, the night that Darcy stopped being my friend.

  After Darcy had stormed off, Darren had turned to me, a goofy smile plastered on his face. “That was awesome.”

  “Whatever,” I’d said, yet not feeling very awesome at all. Darcy was hurt, actually upset, and I’d caused it. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her, just to get a rise out of her. I hadn’t meant any harm.

  “Want to take your shot?” he asked, pulling me out of my Darcy funk. At least, enough for me to return to the game.

  “Yeah,” I said, leaning down to aim my pool cue at the white ball. When I did, Darren leaned down and breathed into my ear. “You’re so hot.”

  Whoa.

  What. The. Fuck.

  I hit the cue ball on an angle and it went flying to the other side of the table, going right into the pocket.

  Damn. It.

  When I stood to yell at Darren, he kissed me. That little bastard had the balls to kiss me after messing up my game like that.

  “What the hell?” I said, recoiling.

  “I thought…uh…I thought,” he stammered.

  “I don’t want to kiss you, Darren. God!” I said, storming out of the room. I had to find Darcy. I owed her an apology.

  I knocked on her door and tried to turn the knob, only to find it was locked.

  “Go away,” she said. Her voice was choked up. She was crying; I was sure of it.

  “Darce, let me in.”

  “No, I mean it. Go away!” she yelled from the other side of the door.

  “I didn’t mean it! You’re not annoying.”

  Silence.

  “I promise, Darce. Seriously.”

  More silence.

  “Do you really want me to go?” I asked, my heart in knots. The most important person in my life was shutting me out. I was in hell. My heart pounded as I hoped she’d answer the door. But she didn’t.

  “You don’t get it. I give up,” she said through the door.

  Her voice killed me. I didn’t know what she meant. Not at all.

  “Just go,” she said. “I’m so done.”

  “Done?” I asked, hanging my head, still not understanding. But my heart was breaking just the same.

  “Done,” she said softly. “Just go.”

  And I did.

  She had never looked me in the eye after that night. Darcy and I stopped being friends, and I had never understood what really happened. All I had known was that I’d lost my best friend in the world.

  Finally…I understood.

  I sat in that coffee shop for hours, just staring into space. A million thoughts flashed through my brain, through my heart, and through my soul.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  Chapter 6

  Costumes

  Sunny

  Halloween night

  “Are you sure?” Grace said, her brow knitted as she frowned at herself in the mirror, turning from side to side. Her fingers pulled at the black fringe of her flapper dress, as if she could instantly create more fabric to cover her thighs.

  Tonight was our business fraternity’s Halloween party, and of course costumes were mandatory. The three of us were in the dorm trying on our costumes, yet instead of being fun, everything felt awkward. Grace was being insecure and high maintenance, and Claudia was just acting strange.

  “Absolutely,” I said, standing behind her, nodding with certainty.

  “You look hot,” Claudia said, but her expression didn’t match her words. I had to wonder what was going on with her.

  Claudia had been acting distant all day. She had disappeared for the majority of the morning, and kept to herself for most of the afternoon. I assumed she was hiding out from Grace. She wasn’t the best at dealing with Grace when she got overly emotional. I didn’t mind, though, and I also didn’t mind when Claudia retreated. I had to appreciate my friends for who they were.

  Still, I didn’t understand why one second after saying the word “hot,” Claudia’s gaze shot to the floor. That was so unlike her. Grace did look hot. What was her deal?

  “Sunny, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Grace said, rolling her shoulders and fidgeting like a five-year-old.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Um, where do I start?” She rolled her eyes.

  “It’s a little short, and that’s okay. You have the legs for it.”

  “I don’t know…” she said, knitting her brows again, looking not at all persuaded.

  “Here,” I said, grabbing the feather boa from the costume packaging. “Wrap this around your shoulders. Maybe you’ll feel less exposed.”

  Grace did as I asked, the muscles of her face relaxed slightly as she gripped the feathers, pulling the boa around her as if it were a protective cloak.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said, moving her focus to the thick fabric headband wrapped around her forehead. She moved it slightly up, then back down, so uncomfortable in her own skin that it broke my heart. I wish she could see what I saw in her. If she did, she wouldn’t spend so much time in front of the mirror, looking conflicted. She’d be ready to dazzle all those boys at the party.

  “You look cute.” She looked at my reflection in the mirror and gave me a weak smile, as if trying to get out of her own head and enjoy the night.

  “Thanks,” I said, glancing at my hair. I felt sexy in my costume. It was one of those German beer maid outfits with the white cotton top, pulled together with an olive green lace-up corset and a brown skirt. Thigh-high white stockings and Mary Janes completed the outfit. My hair hung down to my chest in two braided pigtails. I just hoped people wouldn’t expect me to deliver beer to them all night!

  Claudia was sitting on her bed, gazing down at the fabric of her neon-pink eighties dress. Her hair was pulled into a side ponytail and sprayed a glistening teal color. But the heavy Madonna-inspired makeup she’d planned to wear was nowhere in sight, and I was surprised to see leggings beneath her dress. Sure, they were part of the eighties theme, but very unlike Claudia. Whenever she had a chance to show skin, she did.

  “Everything okay, Claude?”

  “Yeah.” She looked up, her eyes glazed over. “Why?”

  “You just seem…preoccupied,” I said, studying her. My gaze made her shift in her seat, looking uncomfortable.

  Who is this girl in front of me?

  “Nah, I’m fine. A couple of tests next week, that’s all.”

  I wasn’t convinced, but decided to let it go. For now.

  • • •

  We arrived at the party just as others were starting to filter in. The music was blasting and the beer was flowing. I hoped tonight would have a much better outcome than the night before, with no more shoe situations.

  Grace seemed to be handling things well. Her flapper dress was still on and she wasn’t attempting to cover herself with the boa quite as much as I’d thought she would. Claudia was still keeping to herself, which wa
s confusing because it was unlike her, but the loud thumping of the speakers helped me focus on the possible fun ahead.

  Surprisingly, Grace decided that the best way to handle the previous night’s disaster was to shotgun a couple of beers in the kitchen with our friend Max. In the short time we’d known him, Max had become a brother to all of us, especially Grace. They joked around constantly, even to the point of flirting. But whenever I hinted to Grace that a romantic relationship was a possibility, she brushed me off. They were a comforting presence for each other in situations like this. Max knew what had happened with Trevor—word typically spread pretty quickly in our business frat—and seemed determined to cheer her up.

  “Okay, what do I do again?” she asked, holding the can of Bud Light in one hand, a pen in the other.

  “Here, watch me,” Max said, holding a can in his left hand. He stabbed the middle of the can with the pen, beer spraying on all of us. He twisted the pen around a bit to widen the hole, before positioning his other hand on the top of the can, gripping the small metal tab at the top. When he pressed the sides of the can to his open mouth, he popped open the can, guzzling the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing quickly up and down.

  Four seconds later, he crunched the can in his hand and belched.

  “Lovely,” Claudia said, rolling her eyes.

  “Okay, I can do this,” Gracie said, stabbing the side of her can, widening it with the pen just as Max had shown her. She sighed loudly and took a deep breath in before raising the can to her lips, popping the top and grimacing as the liquid ran down her throat. Several sharp coughs left her mouth and she steadied herself by grabbing Max’s shoulder.

  “Holy shit, you did it! I thought you would’ve dropped that shit,” Max said, wrapping an arm around Grace. “You’re a badass, Grace.”

  “Let’s do another,” she said with a crafty smile.

  Claudia announced, “I’m going to see who else is here,” then left the kitchen.

  Part of me wanted to follow her to ask what the heck was going on in her head. Then the other part of me took over. The part that was proud of Grace and wanted to focus on that.