Lizzie puts her head down on the table. Then raises it slowly. She blows a long puff of air, then turns to me. “I guess you’re right. We don’t have a choice. We have to embrace her. Love her like a—”
“Sister,” we all say.
“But everyone will know something’s up. No one voted for her,” Lizzie says.
“If anyone asks, just say there was a computer error,” Sallie says. “But affirm there’s nothing that can be done and,” she sighs, “everyone must accept her.”
“If anyone has a problem with it, send them to me.” Selma taps her hand on the table. “I hate to say it, but this is what sisterhood is all about. We have a chance to become role models.”
“But what about Cali Watkins?” I ask. “It’s not fair to her.”
“I know. It’s sad; we all loved her,” Lizzie says. “But it’s not like she was one of our tip-top rushees. No one even knew Cali before this week.”
I start to plead her case but Gwen speaks first. “It’s too late anyway.” She glances at her watch. “She’s already gotten the news. I just hope she hasn’t been cut from Rush completely.”
THIRTY-NINE
CALI
My covers are pulled up under my nose when I hear the knock. There is no one I want to talk to. Not my grandparents. Not Jasmine. Not even Ellie. All the girls on my floor have been so caring and consoling upon learning I’d been cut from Rush. Even Annie Laurie has been sort of nice. But I still don’t want to talk to any of them.
I can hear them outside my door. They’re all running around getting ready for Bid Day. Their music and their laughter are unwelcome reminders of what life at Ole Miss is supposed to look like. I can barely breathe from the pain piercing my heart. Every time I think of what happened yesterday I get sick all over again.
Another knock.
It couldn’t be Jasmine. She would use her room card. And besides, not wanting to be around all the “Rush hoopla” as she calls it, she went home to Greenville for the weekend with Carl. If I don’t answer, whoever it is will eventually go away.
Now there’s a third knock, this time with a voice. “Cali, are you in there? It’s Sarah.”
Sweet Sarah. She’s been totally amazing. Even though I put my phonenumber down as a way to contact me should I not be invited back to any Houses, she came over here anyway to tell me in person. When I saw her, yesterday morning, she took me by surprise. I had no idea I’d been dropped. I mean up until Friday I’d only been cut from nine sororities. My Sisterhood schedule still included three Houses.
After the final round was over, completely torn by the choice I had to make, I walked over to Weir Hall, stood silently in line another hour and ranked my bottom choice. I put Alpha Delt and Pi Phi down as my top two choices. Everyone knows if you get asked back to Pref, you’re guaranteed a bid. All of the girls, at all three Houses, were so, so sweet. Genuinely sweet. I never considered every one of them, including my bottom choice, would cut me completely. I thought that I had a real chance.
It was ten o’clock yesterday—the morning of Pref—and I had the door to my room open. Everybody’s doors were open. Music emanated from most every room on the hall and girls were running in and out of the bathrooms getting ready. My new dress, the pale blue one I bought at Reed’s that matches my eyes, with the long red zipper down the back and a square neckline with spaghetti straps, was laid out neatly on my bed. My brand-new heels were underneath. I had already washed my hair and put on my makeup.
When Sarah stuck her head in my door I was surprised to see her. Like I said, I felt good about getting invited back for Preference. As soon as I saw the bitter look on her face I knew something was wrong. “Cali, can I come in?”
“Of course. What are you doing here?”
She shut the door softly behind her. The way she lowered her head confirmed my worst fears.
All the blood drained from my face. “Have I been cut?”
She looked up, nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry.”
Tears flooded my eyes, as if they had been there all along, waiting for someone to turn on the faucet. They poured down my cheeks; there was no stopping them. I don’t think I could have cut them off if I wanted to. In fact, they surprised me. I hadn’t cried that hard in two years. Not since I lost Annabelle, my beloved black and white kitty.
Slowly I sat down in my desk chair. Sarah moved Jasmine’s chair right next to mine and pulled me in close. I cried and I cried. Then I sobbed. Geez, looking back on it, I’m super embarrassed. Mascara smudges were all over theshoulder of her white Gamma Chi shirt. I kept wiping my eyes with my fingers, but it still got soiled. She even stroked my hair while I cried, like a mother would do. “It’s okay,” she kept saying. “So many girls have been cut this year. With the variable quota and all. Several of them even suicided the one they wanted and were cut. You’re not alone. It’s messed up this year, Cali.”
Moving off her shoulder I met her eyes. “I didn’t care which sorority I got. I just wanted to belong.” My nose had been dripping nonstop so I wiped it with the back of my hand. When I finally got up to look for a Kleenex, I couldn’t find one so I grabbed a bath towel from the rack behind the door.
“I know there were Houses that would have loved to have had you as a new member, but perhaps you cut them early on. Sometimes it just works that way. It’s hard to know what to do.”
“It’s hard when you don’t have a pedigree.” Without a Kleenex I had no choice but to blow my nose into the towel.
“A what?”
“A pedigree. Last fall when I was at work one day I heard these ladies from Memphis talking about Rush here at Ole Miss. They said you have to have a pedigree to belong to a sorority. I knew I didn’t have one, but I still wanted to try.”
