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CHAPTER ONE
Isquirm as a bead of sweat trickles its way between my shoulder blades down the curve of my spine. My dress is as plastered to my lower back as the fake smile is on my face.
I hate rush week.
The headaches of coordinating outfit colors for each day, memorizing the daily questions, pretending to enjoy the shallow conversations—all to make a favorable impression of our sorority house on eager 18-year-old girls.
“Why did I sign up for this again?” I ask through my teeth as the group of girls we were talking to walks away to the next conversation rotation.
“Oh Lana, because you love the sisterhood, of course!” my best friend, Teegan, bubbles.
Nope. We both know I only signed on to sorority life for the social leadership opportunities that would round out my law school application. I graduated high school with a detailed game plan to achieve my goals, and I’ve adhered to it nearly to the letter for the past three years.
Teegan, on the other hand, was born for college Greek Life. She’s the poster child for FOMO, although she’s rarely in danger of missing out since she’s usually spearheading the fun. Teegan has thrived in the sorority environment, and our sorority has thrived with her enthusiastic presence. She’s been awake early every morning this week, which is saying a lot for someone who loves her beauty sleep. Socializing with large groups of people brings Teegan fully to life. Meanwhile, I’ve merely endured it all so I could reap the résumé benefits.
I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much. After all, this sorority did bring me to my two best friends. Amaya, bestie number two, comes out the side door of the sorority house. Clipboard in hand, she smiles warmly as she directs recruits to their next stations. People are naturally drawn to her commanding presence, a beneficial quality for this week. Amaya’s natural afro is pulled into a high ponytail, and the olive-green dress color of the day beautifully accentuates her smooth, caramel skin. When Amaya notices my attention, her dark eyes narrow at me. She points to her frown and changes it to an award-winning smile.
Oops. I re-plaster the smile on my face as I shift my position to try to unplaster my dress from my back. It’s Amaya’s fault that Teegan and I are stuck on the patio this afternoon. That’s what we get for being best friends with the sorority president—voluntold to be on outdoor duty since the interior of our sorority house can’t hold everyone.
Teegan’s shoulder-length blond hair still looks fantastic despite sitting in the Kansas heat all day. I’d pulled my long, brown tresses into a sleek ponytail, but I’m sure any of the hair that isn’t sticking to the sweat on my neck is frizzy by now. I can practically feel the eyeliner melting off my face. Teegan’s dewy makeup has stayed intact, her peachy-pink eyeshadow making her blue eyes stand out. She reaches over to wipe a smudge from under my eye before the next group sits down.
Teegan takes the lead with the three girls who joined us for our final rotation of the day. They introduce themselves with smiles, but they look a little shell-shocked. Probably since this is the eightieth conversation group they’ve had over the past three days. Also, the aforementioned sweat-inducing heat.
When Teegan asks what they’ve thought about rush week so far, one looks on the verge of tears as she fumbles to come up with a response. I glance at her name tag—Liz. I’ll blame the heat for disabling my brain, because I break script. “You know, Liz, recruitment week can get a little overwhelming. I honestly think it’s a little much.”
All three quickly swivel their heads in my direction, eyes wide. They’re probably nervous that I’m trying to bait them into saying something negative that could be used to exclude them from our list of candidates.
“I really mean it,” I affirm. “I wanted to check into a silent monastery after a week of forced conversations where you’re afraid you’ll be judged for any slip-up you make.”
I see their faces softening. Teegan also makes supportive mm-hmm sounds.
“But I truly believe that God was in control of my recruitment process,” I continue, taking a chance bringing up faith before the recruits mentioned it, skirting around rush week conversation rules. “He led me to this house and to the two best friends I never even dreamed I could have.”
Teegan puffs up and interjects, “That would be me! Well, one of them, I’m not both best friends.”
The girls laugh and look relieved. The glistening in Liz’s eyes is clearing up, and her shoulders relax.
“The point is, trust your instincts and trust the process. Take a step back and remember why you decided to join a sorority in the first place. No matter what happens at the end of the week, house or no house, you’re going to have new friends who went through this harrowing process with you—and that tends to bond you for life,” I say with a genuine smile.
When our time ends, I stand up awkwardly, considering sweat had fused my legs to the chair. “Next time, Teegs, pick a dress for me with more breathable fabric, would you?” Thank goodness I’ve had Teegan around to pick out all my rush week outfits over the past few years. What would feel like a dentist appointment to me is a trip to the candy store to her.
“There won’t be a next time, LaLa. This is our last recruitment week hurrah.” Her eyes blink rapidly as she says it, a tiny waver in her voice.
I give Teegan a tight squeeze. “Don’t worry, any time you feel the urge, you can pick out color-coordinated outfits for us, okay?”
“Well, I don’t exactly know when a lawyer and a special ed teacher would need coordinating outfits, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Teegan says as she returns my hug.
Our tender moment is interrupted by Amaya barreling into us, wrapping her arms around us with such gusto that we nearly fall over. She’s always been a force to be reckoned with. No doubt she’s going to take the business world by storm as she laughs her way through every glass ceiling they throw at her.
“Just think, this is where our bestieship was birthed,” Teegan sighs, fighting a losing battle against the tears in her eyes.
“Well, not exactly,” Amaya chimes in. “The bid night party on Friday night will be the true birthday celebration. No need to get weepy early.”
As new freshmen, the three of us wound up in Alpha Omega Pi (or AOPi for short—there’s an unwritten rule somewhere that Greek houses must have shortened nicknames). Considering how different we are, I find it interesting that we matched to the same house. I guess it’s just evidence of how open-minded AOPi is versus the top two sororities on campus that only seem interested in carbon copies of the current members (family money also doesn’t hurt).
As a brand-new AOPi at the bid night house party, I was walking around like a deer in headlights. I wasn’t a party girl in high school, so I didn’t know how to absorb the rowdy chaos of my first college party until I spotted two other girls standing together who were also clearly not drinking. We made a pact to stick together that night, and we’ve stuck ever since.
“We can take an emotional trip down memory lane this weekend, but for now we need to get the voting procedure done,” Amaya commands. She runs a tight ship, the pro being that our house has finished meetings long before the other sororities every night this week.
