“Ooooh, we have one bag of the All Dressed left. Want some chips instead?”
Shoving my arm over my face, I close my eyes. “I am so fucked.”
TWO
UNEXPECTED ALLY
“This is messed up.”
I peer around the door and see a woman I recognize from campus heckling Addison Fitzpatrick, Zach’s bunnydu jour. Wynter, I think her name is. Wynter Kinnock.
She’s older than most of the people here, mostly because she’s on her second undergrad degree, and you can tell because nobody else dares to stand up toAddy.
God, I hate sycophants.
“This is how we do things in this chapter,” Addison sneers. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to be a Pi?—”
“This is bullying.”
“Natural selection, actually.”
“Are you kidding me? You read a high-school biology textbookonce, picked up that phrase, and?—”
“Look,Lone Bone. This is how we do things,” Addison repeats, the taunt in her voice coming across loud and clear.
“Firstly, you don’t have the right to use that name. Only my friends in the marching band can use it. Secondly, it’s wrong! Those girls are human beings. You can’t treat them like that.” Wynter’s eyes narrow. “I’ll definitely be contacting national HQ because no matter what you say, this isnotthe Pi Beta Epsilon way!”
Before Addison can have the last word, Wynter storms off, cell in hand as if she’s about to take immediate action.
Regret fills me at her retreat though.
With her gone, that means this mess will begin and, oh boy, it’s bad.
Last time I rushed, I didn’t make it to this stage. Now, I’m stuck in a room that, per Wynter’s horror, is for the rejects.
My throat bobs as I stare down at myself.
Earlier, I looked in the mirror and was happy with my appearance.
Now, I know I deluded myself. I?—
“I’m nervous,” a girl blurts out then sticks her hand in front of me. “I’m Mary. Mary Gillespie.”
“Nice to meet you, Mary. I’m Denny. Well, Denver. Parilla.”
The four other girls in this sardine-can closet intro themselves, and in each of our expressions, there’s sorrow.
Sorrow this whole Greek bullshit created.
I guess deep down, we’ve all figured this isn’t the regular route tonight should take. Wishful thinking is such a bitch.
“I wish I were a legacy,” Mary bleats. “I need the sorority on my resumé.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? Because it looks good.” She straightens her shoulders. “I have to get in. My mom said that the networking links alone are invaluable.”
My nose wrinkles as I think aboutmymom. I love her. God knows I do. It’s why I’m here in the first place! But… “They’re not that great. My mom’s less of a homemaker and more of a doll that hung off my dad’s arm.”
