“Knock, knock,” my mother calls before stepping inside, pulling me right along with her.
An attractive brunette looks up and greets us, a wide smile on her face. “You must be Mrs. Henderson?” she says, coming around her desk and shaking mom’s hand.
“Ms. Douglas, actually. Kasey’s father and I divorced years ago.” She throws this out with a laugh like it’s no big deal, but I know mom hates it. Dad forced her to change her name after the divorce. Said she didn't deserve it and the perks that came with being a Henderson. He’s an asshole and whatever perks come with my name I’m still waiting on to be delivered, but he’s also my dad, so I’m duty bound to love him. Even when he’s absent and downright cruel where mom is concerned. “But please, call me Helen.”
“Nice to meet you, Helen. I’m Hilary, the Kappa Mu president,” she says this with a sugary sweet smile so wide her cheeks are bound to crack. She’s not much older than I am. Twenty-one or twenty-two if I had to guess. “And you must be Kasey, our newest legacy. We are so excited to have you.”
I’ll bet she is. She might be fooling Mom but the fake smile and high-pitched laugh is not fooling me.
“Thanks,” I tell her, accepting her offered hand with a fake smile of my own.
“Hills, we’re out of—” a girl says behind us but cuts herself off when she sees Hilary isn’t alone. “Oh. My bad. I didn’t realize you were meeting with parents today,” the girl adds almost sheepishly.
I spot the empty liquor bottles in both her hands and know right away what they’ve recently run out of. I chance a look at my mom and wonder if she’ll call the whole thing off with the obvious drinking and partying going on right now despite it only being a little after 10am on a Sunday. But instead of worry or apprehension on her face, her smile is wide, her eyes glazed over, as though she's reliving fond memories before she lets out a little laugh.
“Please, don’t worry about me. You girls do what you need to. Are you over twenty-one?” Mom asks her.
“Oh, umm, I …” She turns to Hilary with wide eyes and ahelp meexpression.
Mom laughs again. “Why don’t I do you girls a favor and make a quick trip to the store while you guys show my baby girl around. That looks like,” she tilts her head for a better look at the bottles the newcomer is clearly trying and failing to hide, “Malibu rum, Sky Vodka, and … is that Blue Curacao?”
The girl nods but keeps her lips sealed.
“Perfect. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
Mom brushes a kiss across my temple and then slips past the girl and leaves me standing alone with two very surprised college girls.
“Did your mom just—”
“Offer to go buy you booze after you very obviously failed to confirm that you’re legally old enough to drink? Yes. Yes, she did.”
“Wicked. Your mom is so cool.”
I sigh and force myself to smile. That’s Mom. Always one to be your friend rather than your parent. “Yeah. She’s pretty chill. I’m Kasey by the way.”
“Quinn,” the girl says. “Nice to meet you.”
“Let's show you around and go over the house rules while we wait for your mom to get back,” Hilary interjects. “Quinn, why don’t you go make sure the other pledges don’t need any assistance.”
Quinn nods and leaves to do what Hilary asked, and when I turn to face her, her smile is gone and an annoyed expression rests in its place. “Look,” she begins. “I’m going to be honest. I wasn’t thrilled when I was told we’d be admitting a new pledge. You skipped our entire application process, didn’t show up for a single interview, and didn’t have to jump through any of the hoops every other girl who was accepted had to.”
I keep my expression blank. Is she wanting me to apologize for something I played zero part in and had no control over? It’s not like I asked for this.
She sighs. “But, you’re a legacy and our house takes that seriously. It also doesn’t hurt that your dad made a donation to Kappa Mu in your name.” Huh, look at that. Good ole Dad helping us out. I try not to roll my eyes. He was probably worried I’d ask to live with him full time what with mom leaving. Not that I ever would. I love my dad, but where Mom parents by trying to be my friend, Dad parents with assistants and nannies, forgetting I’m seventeen, not seven.
“So, we’re going to make this work.” She sounds resigned. Join the club. “We don’t want to start getting a flood of running-start applicants. Hanging out with high schoolers isn’t really our thing. We also don’t want any trouble with the dean’s office for exposing you to anything you’re not ready for, so for now, keep your age to yourself.”
“I can do that,” I tell her. It’s not like I was planning on letting everyone know how young I was. I’m not an idiot.
“Good. Glad that’s out of the way. Like the plaque outside the door says, I’m the housemother, but I’m not going to be your mom while you’re here. If you’re upset or homesick, phone a friend. I’m not your shoulder to cry on.”
“Noted.”
“And I’m not your babysitter. The girls here like to have a bit of fun and we’re close with some of the campus fraternities. You’re responsible for looking after yourself. If you can’t handle your liquor, don’t drink. And if you do drink, don’t be stupid and drive yourself home. Got it?”
I give her two thumbs up. “Anything else?”
“Don’t cut classes. Part of eligibility requirements for being a member is maintaining a 3.0 GPA. If you fail any of your classes, you’re out. Legacy or not.”
