I’ll be back home with Zach and Peeks soon.
Addison, the queen of this viper’s nest, orders, “Line up in front of the pedestal, PNMs?*.”
She strolls out from behind us, sopristinely perfect in a dress so tight it’s practically bodycon, and it’s nauseating to think Zach bangs her. Hell, he’s probably banged half the sorority this summer!
My mind stutters over the thought so, for my own sanity, I shift my focus onto something else.
A glance around the room once we take our positions has me hiding my distaste for the weird Renaissance-esque mural on the back wall where three nymphs dance in a pool. It’s like Temu Michelangelo. Talk about gaudy.
A soft, clicking sound catches my attention from the tedious speech Addison’s making, and I find Wynter, frowning, standing to the side, her phone aimed at the rushees.
Her expression isn’t mean. If anything, her scowl speaks of her discomfort.
I think back to what she said. How she’d email HQ. Is she taking pictures as proof?
Proof of what, though?
I catch her eye by mistake and hers narrow. Not vindictively, but ferociously.
For someone I’ve never even spoken to, that look comes as a shock.
But she doesn’t drop eye contact. Ever. Not throughout Addison’s ridiculous speech. Not throughout the misery of the early stages of pledging.
I don’t know whyI’mthe one she looks at. All I know is that, by simply standing there, she props me upright.
Makes me feel less alone on one of the most humiliating nights of my life.
Because in a room full of people, I’ve never felt more isolated.
Or less worthy of existing.
* Potential New Member
THREE
WHY DENNY SHOULDN’T DRINK
“Zaaaaaaaaach?”
“Denny, that you?”
His voice is gruff with sleep.
God, it’s sexy.
Too sexy.
Bad Denny! Bad girl. Very bad, bad girl.
“Zaaach!”
There, that wasn’t as exuberant.
He yawns. “Why are you yodeling my name?”
“Because I’m so drunk.” I giggle. “SO drunk.”
He snorts. “You at the sorority house so I can pick you up?”
