anyway.”
“Yay!” Chloe
jumped up and actually clapped her hands in glee. “Let’s go—before you change
your mind!”
“Okay,
okay!” I barely had time to grab my jacket—this fall in New England had been
colder than usual—before she yanked me out the door.
*
* * *
The girls
were normal. They weren’t all cheerleader-types, or even all blonde. There were
quite a few who were even less style-conscious than me, surprisingly enough,
and Chloe was right about the requirements, including maintaining a 3.0 GPA. I
was also impressed with their service record—they volunteered at shelters, did
fundraisers for Unicef, and each girl had a special pet cause she brought to
the group. Chloe gave me “I told you so” eyes all night.
“Well,
there’s still no shortage of parties and beer bashes, looks like,” I mumbled,
pulling out the “social events calendar.”
“A girl’s
gotta have fun,” Chloe whispered back, nudging me as the girl talking—a lanky,
dark-haired thing whose glasses were even sadly thicker than mine—noticed our tête-à-tête
and looked our way.
“Are there
any questions?” The girl with the glasses looked directly at both of us.
I raised my
hand and starting speaking before she even called on me. “Is there any hazing
involved?”
The
glasses-girl—Julie, that was her name, written in loopy script on her name tag
and barely visible to me from this distance—cleared her throat and looked at
another girl sitting next to her. That one was blonde, cute and perky, but she
looked smart too. Her name tag said Megan. It was the blonde who stood and
spoke. “Hazing is traditional in a lot of fraternities and sororities. I can
promise you, though, that you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Julie took
someone else’s inquiry and I raised an eyebrow as Chloe leaned in to whisper,
“That really didn’t answer my question, did it?”
“Don’t worry.”
Chloe reached over and squeezed my fingers in hers. “I’ll protect you.”
I snorted,
leaning back on the couch with a roll of my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was
doing this. It was so out-of-character for me I thought maybe I was going
schizo or something. Chloe smiled over her shoulder at me, and I could tell she
was gauging my reaction, or trying to. She looked nervous, like she wasn’t sure
I was liking it. And I wasn’t sure myself. Okay, so she wanted to join a
sorority, and she wanted me to join with her. What was so wrong with that?
I mean,
besides the fact that I’d never been one to hang out with the popular crowd,
and for me, the word “sister” meant someone who stole my makeup, tattled, and
liked to tag along everywhere I went. What would it be like to be a part of a
whole group of women, bonded together, in some sort of secret sisterhood? Part
of me said it was creepy and cult-like, and I shouldn’t even consider it. But
another part of me—the part that watched Chloe when she stood in her bra and panties
in front of our mirror and brushed her long blonde hair every night—thought it
might be interesting. Maybe more than just a little interesting.
And if it
gave me more of an opportunity to be with her, what was the harm? I knew I
wasn’t brave enough to tell her the truth—I hadn’t told anyone. I had barely
admitted it to myself. I’d kept up the pretenses as well as I could. I’d even
gone to my senior prom with a boy from my Algebra II class—although I’d
rebuffed all of his drunken advances afterward. But if the few experimentations
and secret flings I’d had with girls in high school had been crushes, this
thing I had for Chloe went far beyond infatuation.
I touched
Chloe’s shoulder, getting her attention, and she turned to me with curious
eyes. Smiling, I leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Hey, let’s pledge, whatdya
say?”
She
brightened. “You mean it!?”
I cringed
when the whole room turned at her squeal. “Yeah, I mean it.”
I had no
idea what I was getting
“Yay!” Chloe
jumped up and actually clapped her hands in glee. “Let’s go—before you change
your mind!”
“Okay,
okay!” I barely had time to grab my jacket—this fall in New England had been
colder than usual—before she yanked me out the door.
*
* * *
The girls
were normal. They weren’t all cheerleader-types, or even all blonde. There were
quite a few who were even less style-conscious than me, surprisingly enough,
and Chloe was right about the requirements, including maintaining a 3.0 GPA. I
was also impressed with their service record—they volunteered at shelters, did
fundraisers for Unicef, and each girl had a special pet cause she brought to
the group. Chloe gave me “I told you so” eyes all night.
“Well,
there’s still no shortage of parties and beer bashes, looks like,” I mumbled,
pulling out the “social events calendar.”
“A girl’s
gotta have fun,” Chloe whispered back, nudging me as the girl talking—a lanky,
dark-haired thing whose glasses were even sadly thicker than mine—noticed our tête-à-tête
and looked our way.
“Are there
any questions?” The girl with the glasses looked directly at both of us.
I raised my
hand and starting speaking before she even called on me. “Is there any hazing
involved?”
The
glasses-girl—Julie, that was her name, written in loopy script on her name tag
and barely visible to me from this distance—cleared her throat and looked at
another girl sitting next to her. That one was blonde, cute and perky, but she
looked smart too. Her name tag said Megan. It was the blonde who stood and
spoke. “Hazing is traditional in a lot of fraternities and sororities. I can
promise you, though, that you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Julie took
someone else’s inquiry and I raised an eyebrow as Chloe leaned in to whisper,
“That really didn’t answer my question, did it?”
“Don’t worry.”
Chloe reached over and squeezed my fingers in hers. “I’ll protect you.”
I snorted,
leaning back on the couch with a roll of my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was
doing this. It was so out-of-character for me I thought maybe I was going
schizo or something. Chloe smiled over her shoulder at me, and I could tell she
was gauging my reaction, or trying to. She looked nervous, like she wasn’t sure
I was liking it. And I wasn’t sure myself. Okay, so she wanted to join a
sorority, and she wanted me to join with her. What was so wrong with that?
I mean,
besides the fact that I’d never been one to hang out with the popular crowd,
and for me, the word “sister” meant someone who stole my makeup, tattled, and
liked to tag along everywhere I went. What would it be like to be a part of a
whole group of women, bonded together, in some sort of secret sisterhood? Part
of me said it was creepy and cult-like, and I shouldn’t even consider it. But
another part of me—the part that watched Chloe when she stood in her bra and panties
in front of our mirror and brushed her long blonde hair every night—thought it
might be interesting. Maybe more than just a little interesting.
And if it
gave me more of an opportunity to be with her, what was the harm? I knew I
wasn’t brave enough to tell her the truth—I hadn’t told anyone. I had barely
admitted it to myself. I’d kept up the pretenses as well as I could. I’d even
gone to my senior prom with a boy from my Algebra II class—although I’d
rebuffed all of his drunken advances afterward. But if the few experimentations
and secret flings I’d had with girls in high school had been crushes, this
thing I had for Chloe went far beyond infatuation.
I touched
Chloe’s shoulder, getting her attention, and she turned to me with curious
eyes. Smiling, I leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Hey, let’s pledge, whatdya
say?”
She
brightened. “You mean it!?”
I cringed
when the whole room turned at her squeal. “Yeah, I mean it.”
I had no
idea what I was getting
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