Greek: Best Frenemies (6 page)

“He got Galileo killed,” Dale said. “Galileo proposed a heliocentric universe, where the earth revolved around the sun, and was put on trial for heresy because the Catholic Church had adopted Aristotle's opinion that the universe was geocentric and everything revolved around the earth. The strain of house arrest and persecution probably killed him. I mean, not that Aristotle is all bad. How was he supposed to make accurate astrological observations without a telescope?”

“I have to say something revolutionary about him by Monday because I have tapped out on Plato and I figured the professor's name being Aristotle might get me points.”

“You could do it about robots,” Rusty said. “I mean, I can't back that up. I was more of a Pythagoras guy in high-school
philosophy. But I'm sure there's something you can say about man and false man and the meaning of life.”

“Lifeless matter is form without essence,” Cappie said.

“And God is essence without form,” Dale chipped in.

“So robots are the opposite of God?” Rusty replied, a bit lost.

“I could work in Aristotle's refutation of animism and I might have a paper,” Cappie mused. “And some fighting robots to go along with it. That doesn't sound bad. Where do we start?”

Evan Chambers did eventually manage to escape from
the house and all of its troubles, though he didn't entirely leave them behind, especially the problems that were sweetheart-related. He had a date with Rebecca, one set up ahead of her nomination, and he intended to keep it. It would be the one bright spot in this mess of a week. And a mess was what it was. Trip was at his throat, the pledges were intimidated in the wrong way and Calvin was still upset over the anti-gay vibe in the house. The contest would be over by Sunday, and Sunday was looking better and better all the time.

“Hello.” He kissed her as she arrived at the restaurant. “It's this or lots and lots of cookies shaped like hearts back at Omega Chi.”

“I'll take the fillet, though I appreciate the offer.” She took his arm as they headed into the restaurant. When she was alone with Evan her voice lost the sharp edge it usually had.

The restaurant was in town, not too fancy for Evan's already-stretched budget but far enough to be away from those who
would be critical, or just watching. He did have his eyes open for ZBZ stalkers no matter how much he had shot down Trip over the concept, but he saw none. They were alone, and the restaurant was fairly empty because it was the middle of the week. It was peaceful.

Not that it stopped him from talking. “I admit, I was tempted to get you a romantic present. I could have just picked one from the pile, but I thought you might be on to me.”

“I would notice if the card said, ‘With love, from Gamma Psi,'” Rebecca said.

“Give me a little credit. I would definitely remember to clip the card off the stuffed bunny,” he said. “So, are you having ZBZ girls shadow us?”

“Way to start the perfect romantic evening,” Rebecca snapped back.

“It was a joke! And also Trip claims that he's being followed.”

She groaned. “I wouldn't put it past Abby and her flunkies.”

“The pledge? Pledges get flunkies?”

“Apparently. Where are my flunkies?”

“I think they're all your flunkies now. At least for the rest of the week.”

“Wonderful.” Nothing could please her less, which was odd for Rebecca. She liked having people under her thumb. “Yes, maybe, there's some weirdo stalking going on by some pledges with not enough to do since they got scared off by the baking-flour incident.”

“The baking-flour incident?”

“To which I am sworn to secrecy.”

“So, you might blurt it out after sex?”

“It'd have to be really good sex.” She winked before looking down at her menu. “I will try to call the sisters off, but they are
crazy.
”

“Just tell them it's definitely hurting your cause. I am getting all of this crap from Trip. Questioning my decisions—”

“Aww! Insulting your manhood in front of the pack?”

“—and insulting you to get a rise out of me. I have to support you—correction, I want to support you—without doing it too hard because the guys all know we're going out, and there's that whole thing with the ZBZ winning streak and the guys resenting it, and feeling bad for the Gamma Psis for not having a house and the other houses putting their best feet forward.”

“With the Tri-Pis, I assume it's not just their feet.”

“I think they're playing it a bit more subtle this year, with all the competition. Because, no offense, but your house is—”

“Fourth. Ish.”

“—a bit more suspect than previous years, perhaps, but still in good standing in my humble opinion. Sadly, my opinion doesn't seem to go very far these days.”

“And these are your sacred brothers until the end of time or something?”

“Yeah, I thought so. Then I remembered even real brothers can be mean and unsupportive. Ever since I lost my trust fund, it's like I'm not president, or I shouldn't be president. I should just step down and let someone with a bigger savings account step up and be appointed. If that's what they really want—”

“Then give up the presidency. Or don't. Ride out the year and sail into obscurity like Casey and Ashleigh will,” she said with unusual intensity, even for her. “Does it really matter
in the end? In the last week, I can't believe the crap I've had to put up with for the sake of the house. I have Abby and her pledge sweetheart squad stalking people and not letting me go to classes unescorted, lest I look unpopular and uncool and not worthy of being fawned over arbitrarily by a fraternity—”

He was shocked by her sudden change in mood. “It's not that arbitrary.”

“And if I'm not enthusiastic enough about all of this crap, I have Casey yelling at me about my responsibilities as a ZBZ to the house and Ashleigh reminding me how this is a stepping stone to the presidency of ZBZ. Which, if it remains as lame a house as it currently is, and if it's as unrewarding as it has been for you, I don't think I
want.
”

“Hey—”

“But nobody stopped to ask whether I wanted to do this. In their minds I want to be sweetheart and president of ZBZ, and they would nominate me for CRU Whore of the Year if they thought it would help the house ranking. Which, I admit, isn't entirely arbitrary since we had a president dethroned last year, had half our pledges walk out on us during the initiation ceremony to start a new sorority and a presidential battle that left everyone so disgusted they voted for the third party I nominated—though I have to admit, Ashleigh is great. So we're stretching ourselves in these stupid Greek contests because we need blue-ribbon points to add up to some prize that means we're the best house on the block again, even if it takes all our spare time and dignity. And speaking of dignity, if the Gamma Psis can walk out on our party and accuse us of bribing them to come, which may or may not be true but doesn't make it any better to do it in public, we should have at least come up with some revenge. But now we can't, because
they're in their own perpetual pity party over their house burning down. Thanks, ancient sprinkler systems. Isn't the university supposed to mandate these things? Don't they care at all about student safety?”

“Did you—”

“If the university had any sense, they would step in. It's a blatant misuse of their power to try to stop us from having parties but let students embarrass themselves with ridiculous rituals which have no meaning beyond to be demeaning to the popular. Or one person, in particular.”

Evan waited for the pause, then said. “Do you want to be sweetheart?”

“Aw, that's so sweet. You know why? Because you're the first person to ask me! Except when you nominated me, but how could I say no in front of two houses? That's like rejecting an offer of marriage while on the stadium JumboTron. You say yes because you have to, not because you're making deep considerations. And since Monday, I've barely had two minutes to consider anything before being asked if I like the color of a gift-box wrapper or if I want to go hang out totally conspicuously in front of the hall where some Omegas are known to have classes. I didn't actually make a decision here.”

Evan swallowed. “Well, now I am asking you. Honestly, do you want to be sweetheart?”

“You know what? I have no freaking idea.” Rebecca threw up her hands. “I know I should be grateful for the nomination and for all the support in the house, even if I could do without my eardrums bursting from the pledges screaming in excitement at the latest plan to win you guys over. But…” She shrugged helplessly.

Evan stepped in. “But you're annoyed. Because you don't want the attention.” Though it didn't sound like Rebecca, entirely. She did like attention, a certain kind. “When you were a pledge—and I know this because Casey talked about you constantly when we were still going out—you weren't enthusiastic about ZBZ in the traditional way, but you were committed. You wanted to succeed there.”

“More like I wanted to crush Casey's hopes that I would drop out.”

“It couldn't have just been that. Nobody joins a sorority just to make someone else's life temporarily miserable…right?”

“Well, things were starting to look up since I've been leading the pledges. I don't know. Why do people join fraternities?” she asked.

“I wonder sometimes.” He thought about it. “Is this about your dad?”

“Ew. You're my boyfriend. You're not allowed to get Freudian on me. Instant deal breaker.”

“So I am your boyfriend?” He smiled at the admission. She rarely admitted to anything. “But seriously, about your dad. By your dad, I meant politics. Is it because it's political? Campaigns and nominations and all that?” Senator Logan, before retiring from office and going on many self-awareness retreats, had been a corrupt philanderer, estranged from his wife and far less estranged from a prostitution ring. The scandal broke while Rebecca was at spring break, causing her to go on a drunken rampage while wearing a ZBZ T-shirt (or what was left of the wet T-shirt at that point). Her antics were captured by videophone and posted on the internet, making her a brief national scandal and a scandal for the house, particularly because of the letters on her shirt. If she'd chosen, say, a San
Diego Zoo shirt to wear that morning, maybe things would have been different, but they were still bad. It was a hell of a freshman spring-break experience.

Rebecca stopped to consider her answer. “I don't have to be political because I'm Senator Logan's daughter. Or because I was Senator Logan's daughter, and now I'm Mr. Private-Citizen-Who-Claims-He's-Changed Logan's daughter.”

“But you like politics. At least a little. You nominated Ashleigh and got the house to vote for her for president even though she wasn't running.”

“That was because Casey and Frannie were embarrassing themselves and didn't deserve to be president.”

“There are lots of people who have opinions about presidents. There are people who think I shouldn't be president. There are people who think the U.S. president shouldn't be president. You performed a smart political maneuver, and at the time, you probably enjoyed it. So?”

“I like to cause trouble?”

“I know something about politics, too, at least at the Greek level, and that's not what that says to me.”

She hesitated, but she admitted it. “Okay, so I don't want people to walk all over me.”

“A vast understatement.”

“Maybe. But I don't want to have to put up with all of this…crap.”

“It goes with the territory.”

“So what are the benefits?”

“I think everyone who's running for anything has a moment where they wonder that, too,” Evan said. “Look, you'll gain some good experience managing different personalities, and
don't forget the power, and the subterfuge. I'll be happy when I crush Trip's hopes and dreams.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

He grinned. Another good admission from Rebecca. Maybe they should have more heart-to-hearts. “The point is, I'm still president of Omega Chi, and you're still running for sweetheart. Do you want to be sweetheart or not?”

“…I don't know.”

“Not to be harsh here, but you should come to a decision. If not for the people who are supporting you, which a lot of people are whether it drives you crazy or not, but for yourself. Despite whatever nonsense about needing it on your résumé for presidency of ZBZ—if you even want to run—this is about
us
honoring
you
for being awesome. You have to decide, preferably sometime before the end of the ceremony on Saturday, whether you want the honor. Because if you don't, I know three other less-admirable girls, in my eyes, who do.”

“I can only imagine the catfight at ZBZ if I decide to take myself out of the running.”

“I wouldn't underestimate your sisters. And don't get angry at them for supporting you. They're doing their best. Their best may involve heart-shaped cookies and whatever the baking-flour incident was, but it's their best. For you.”

She considered it again. “I hope you're right. I've been at the receiving end of Ashleigh's displeasure. And surprisingly, it was worse than being at the end of Casey's.”

“For a week they'll be mad, I'm sure. Maybe two. Then someone will break up with someone else and they'll discover a new superguy on campus to fawn over and you'll be yesterday's news. And before you say it, I mean that in a good way.”

“I wish I could defend ZBZ against your monumentally degrading accusations, but you are being stunningly accurate.”

“Well,” he said, “I have some experience with ZBZ.”

“Their drunken antics.”

“We all have those.”

“Their obsession with cats.”

“I discovered that one night. But I thought I was hallucinating.”

“We have a talking-stick type-thing for meetings called Pussy Willow.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That I didn't know.”

“I guess you don't know everything there is to know about ZBZ after all. And I thought you were the scholar of ZBZ women.”

“Just two, really. And at the moment, one.”

Rebecca didn't say “aw” or fawn over him in a romantic gush for the comment. She just silently appreciated it, something she would never admit to if her life depended on it, and that was good enough for Evan.

“So are you going to tell me about the baking-flour incident now?”

“Let's just say baking flour looks a lot like sugar, which looks like another substance that costs much more than both of them combined and is much harder to obtain, and no ZBZ should snort any of those substances.”

“Very tantalizing. But not enough.”

She smiled flirtatiously. “You haven't earned it.”

He returned the expression. “The night is young.”

 

It was late when Casey arrived at the KT house, but it was college so everyone was still awake. The first guys she
saw were hyperfocused on the television, and one nodded in the general direction of the backyard when she asked where Cappie was.