Beautiful Elixir (Beautiful Oblivion #3) by Addison Moore Page A

due to the fact my mother and her twin were Kappas—and I made no secret of it during rush. While other girls were getting their faces spray tanned a neon shade of pumpkin, I sweetly promised (read: vaguely threatened) the then-team of captains that I would one day extend the favor of bowing the legacy to their little sisters, and I was as good as in. Just like that, I was free from any pigment-faced harm. And here I am, was , the leader of this rabid pack.
    We head inside, and my sisters trample to the door. A mad hugging fest ensues. I can practically feel the red lipstick adhering to my flesh. Red lipstick and pearls is the external marker of a true Kappa. I’ve donned both in the event some rogue sister decides to think otherwise. I’m still running this whorehouse through Mel, so if any of these bitches plan on pulling rank, they’ve got another thing coming. (My sisters are totally not bitches, but I mentally like to assert an obnoxious amount of authority). I’m the equivalent of a Mob Boss working the family from the pen in that respect. Only, I’m thinking prison would be a less hostile environment than the free public. I’ve been avoiding humans like they were the new plague. I’ve never been a fan of being judged, and now that the Kennedy is back! high seems to be wearing off, they’re all taking an apprehensive step in the opposite direction, clutching at their pearls, wondering what in the hell to do with me.
    “Don’t you worry,” Mel whispers in my ear. “Everyone in the dayroom!” she calls out. “We’re holding an impromptu meeting!”
    A loose round of cheers break out, and I catch Reese rolling her eyes. It could be worse, Brylee could be here, too.
    An iced breeze blows in as the door springs open, and Brylee stumbles into the room on cue.
    “Am I late?” She trots over with the glee of a galloping horse.
    “No. In fact, you’re way too early.” If she were five minutes late, it would be right on time. I peer at the girls assembling themselves in the next room. There is an order of hierarchy to be observed during meetings such as this, though I can’t help but see that several of the girls are seated out of place, and I’m wildly displeased. It’s either anarchy, or they feel this is an informal get together. I’ll cling to the latter for now. I lean in toward Brylee and Reese. “You two sit in the back,” I whisper. “I need everyone relaxed. If there’s a mole in here, I’m about to throw some serious dynamite to get the weasel out.”
    I head in and clap the room to order.
    “Thank you so much girls for taking time out of your busy schedules. I know that midterms are right around the corner and that you have papers to write.” Dicks to suck, but I leave that bit of brash verbiage out for now. I’m so livid with my sorority bitches (yes, I lied, I really do believe they are all a pack of wild female dogs) I could bash heads until someone confesses to the lunacy that’s fallen upon my life. Tonight is about confirming a theory. Now, to set the bait…
    I take a seat next to Melanie with her warm, affable smile, her preppy upturned collar and loafers with the right kind of tread letting me know they’re the expressive originals and not the Target knock-offs. Mel has been my right hand gal long before this nightmare ever began.
    “So”—I give my signature don’t-hate-me-because-I’m-simply-one-of-you shrugs (even my body language is averse to telling the truth)—“I know things have changed with me not in attendance this semester.”
    “Will you be back?” A waifish girl raises her hand, her voice genuinely worried in anticipation of my answer.
    “Of course, I’ll be back. I just need to do a little damage control, that’s all. My attorney is working overtime, trying to get things handled in just the right way. Have any of you seen the videos?” I scour the room as each of their faces lights up an unholy shade of crimson. They all shake their heads feverishly,