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Authors: S. L. Stacy

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“They
remind of turnips—”

“We’re
gonna go sit down.” Anna cuts her off with a polite grimace and places a hand
at my elbow. “It was…nice meeting all of you.”

“So,
are we on for coffee later?” Jasper asks me. Anna gives my arm a tug. I turn
back to her and hold up my pointer finger. Her eyes gape at me, but she lets go
of my arm, her eyes sweeping over Eric one last time before she starts picking
her way back to our table. I look back to Pat, but she’s vanished, the
invisible tendrils of her nauseating perfume the only evidence that she was
ever really there at all.

I
shake my head. “Maybe some other time. See you in class.” I follow Anna, not
waiting for his reply.

“He
smelled
really
good,” Anna tells me when I sit down.

“Who?”

“That
Eric Mars guy.” We both look over at the bar, but Dr. Mars and his teaching
assistants are gone.

“What
does he smell like?”

“The
woods,” she sighs. “Whiskey.”
And sex
, I think she adds, but her voice
is drowned out as the lead singer of Black Orchid brings his lips to the
microphone. A shock of black-blue hair falls dramatically in front of half his
face, and the eye we can see is enhanced with eyeliner. His tight jeans are a
strange contrast to his formal white collared shirt and black tie.

“Good
evening, ladies,” Emo Kid’s voice crackles through the microphone, “gents.
Welcome to Music-alypse. We're Black Orchid.”

Black
Orchid's opening song has a lively but impatient tune. I really can't get into
their grating sound or Emo Kid’s strained vocals, so I try to mentally block
them out and study the room instead. I finally see Jasper and his posse
lounging around a table against the far wall. There’s another girl with them
who looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Alert, dark eyes watch the
performance underneath shiny black bangs. Her white shorts and floral-printed
top stand out in this otherwise unconventional crowd. Out of the corner of my
eye I see Tanya’s head perk up from her phone. She follows my gaze and groans.

“Who
is that?”

“Genie
Cho,” Tanya says in my ear. “Alpha Rho’s president. She’s in my economics
class. Such a know-it-all. And I
hate
it when people wear tights with
shorts.” Tanya returns to Facebook, and I laugh, now noticing the silver-blue
semi-circles covering Genie’s legs like glossy fish scales. I start to turn
away, but another metallic flash catches my eye.

Genie
runs her fingers through her short silky hair, briefly revealing a patch of
neck covered with the same oily scales. Several folds of silver skin flare out,
raw and pink underneath. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.

This
time when I open them, I see only smooth pale skin. The gills and scales on her
neck and legs are gone. Maybe I imagined them. Except Tanya saw them, too, and
thought they were tights.

I
reluctantly turn back to Black Orchid. Their set seems to drag on forever, but
I think it's actually only been a half an hour. Finally, Emo Kid is yelling
“thank you!” into the microphone as his band disassembles and the bar erupts in
fevered applause. Carly hops to her feet, giving a high-pitched whoop and
patting her hands together eagerly. She glances expectantly down at me, Tanya
and Anna still seated, our claps slow and mechanical. Stuffing her hands in the
pockets of her skinny jeans, Carly hides her face in her curls and sits back
down.

Black
Orchid walks off, and four members of Search and Destroy take its place. None
of them are Jimmy. The one with greasy brown hair spilling into his eyes bends
down to adjust something, and his flannel shirt rides up to expose low-sitting
jeans and his…ew. I quickly look away and watch a head of blonde-tipped, spiky
black hair settle behind the drum set. The other two are setting up a key board
next to the drummer. When they’re done, the solemn one with the mop of blonde
hair stations himself behind it, his hands poised over the keys. He’s the
tallest and lankiest of his band mates, and also the most well-dressed in black
dress pants and a turtleneck. They even look like they’ve been washed and
ironed recently. His helper, who I’m guessing must be the bass guitarist, wears
a pair of shorts and nothing else.

The
bar has gone rather quiet except for the clink of glasses and the occasional
murmur of conversation drifting up from a table. Suddenly, a voice booms out
from a microphone somewhere at the other end of the room.

“I'm
tired
,” the unseen speaker announces. “I'm so,
fucking
, tired.”

“Of
what?” one of the bartenders calls out, and a few people chuckle.

“Of
everything
,” the male voice bellows. A figure strides up between the
tables as he continues, “Of my parents telling me to get a
real
job, a
nine-to-five job I'll probably hate.”

He
joins his band and faces the audience. “I'm tired of these sociopathic kids,”
he adds, practically grinding his teeth into the microphone, “with their iPads
and their smart phones thinking they're the best fucking thing to ever happen
to the world, and for treating each other like
shit
.”

Anna
whispers in my ear, “Jim has an iPhone. Our parents pay for his plan.” She
huffs and crosses her arms, her mouth a thin, resentful line as she glares at
her brother.

“And
I'm tired of these stupid old dudes in Washington thinking they know what's
best for the good ol' U.S. of A,” Jimmy concludes. Like his bass guitarist,
he's not wearing a shirt, but he's clearly been taking care of himself. His
chest and abdomen are rock hard and slick with something. Sweat? Oil? His dark
brown hair is shorter now, but his strong jaw line and pouting lips are
unmistakable. “You know, nothing ever really changes. You think you leave high
school—the arrogance, the backstabbing, the drama—behind, but you never really
do. In the real world, it's called Washington.”

After
those last three words, they launch into a raucous song with jarring guitar
chords and half-sung, half-spoken lyrics about how “shitty” everything is.
Jimmy doesn't have a large space to work with, but he writhes and thrashes
right up to the first few tables of patrons who keep time with bobbing heads.
Search and Destroy flies through their first few songs, the sound frenzied and
disturbing, but Jimmy's soulful voice and incredible stage presence pulls it
all together, gives it order.

Abruptly,
Greasy slows down the pace with a rolling, simmering guitar melody. Jimmy wipes
sweat from his brow and addresses the audience again.

“This
next song is a cover of The Stooges’ ‘Gimme Danger,’” he announces, and without
further explanation purrs the first few words in a low, loud whisper into the
microphone, his entire body pouring itself into the song. His wide, wild gaze
sweeps the audience and stops at our table. I have to remind myself that he
probably can't actually see me—or if he could, he might not recognize me.
Still, I sink lower into my chair as his eyes linger on our table. The
insistent melody, his deep, trembling voice and intent stare unhinge me. I'm
suddenly hot and alert. Anticipation builds in my lower abdomen, between my
legs. A fleeting image of Jim pressing himself against me, running his hands up
and down my body and singing against my neck passes through my mind.

It
vanishes when Tanya taps me on the shoulder—just in time, too, because my wings
itch to unfurl. She hands me her phone so that I can read the brief but urgent
email Victoria has just sent to the executive board:
I need you guys to come
back to the house
, now. Carly looks up from her own phone and meets our
confused gazes.

I
lean into the table. “It sounds like an emergency. I guess we should go back to
the house.”

“Did
someone break a nail?” Anna jokes.

Tanya
glances over at Anna, her upper lip twitching, but she just says, “I’m sure the
other board members will go. Victoria knows we’re out.”

“We
won’t be that much longer,” Carly agrees. “Let’s just stay.”

I
give a reluctant nod and turn back to the performance, but the moment has
passed. The speed of the song has picked up, and Jimmy's eyes are closed as he
belts out the rest of it. Their set continues for another twenty minutes, and
the end of it is met with loud applause and cheers from the audience. A few
patrons even stand up. I want to stand up, too, but I don’t want to draw his
attention my way.

“Ready
to go?” Anna asks.

“I
have to pee first,” Carly says.

“Me
too,” I tell her.

“It's
downstairs.” Anna points to a staircase I hadn't noticed before. It leads to
the basement, which smells like cigarettes and mildew, so Carly and I are
quick. A few minutes later we burst out of the lady's room back into the hall—

—and
I almost slam into Jimmy.

“Jimmy!”
I shriek. He jumps back in surprise, too. “Oh, h-h-hey.”

For
a moment, Jimmy’s hazel eyes just look at me. Then, he gives me a lopsided
grin.

“Siobhan!”
He opens up his arms, and I think he’s going to hug me, but then they drop back
at his sides. “It's great to see you! Thanks for coming. You're here with
Anna?” I nod, and then we both have to step back because some guy is trying to
bypass us on his way to the restroom. I see Carly look at Jimmy, then at me.
She points quietly at the stairs and runs up them.

Jimmy
closes the gap between us. “So, how are you?” he asks me eagerly. I can't help
but smile. He's adorable even when he's exhausted and sweaty.

“I'm
doing well,” I reply, my head bobbing up and down as though I'm trying to
convince myself of this along with him. “School's going pretty well.” I should
have more to tell him. We’ve talked so little since high school, but it’s like
everything has evaporated from my brain. “By the way, you guys were
amazing
out there.” It’s true, but I’m also trying to change the subject.

“Thanks!
I thought we had a good night.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and shuffles
a little closer to me still. “Anyway, Anna was telling me you’re studying
science or something?”

And
we’re back to me. “Yes. Biology, actually.”

“That’s
cool. I’m not surprised. You were always really smart.” He looks away from me
and down at the ground for a moment, absent-mindedly ruffling his hair with his
hand. “And I hear you’re in a…sorority?” He grimaces, but it quickly turns into
a smile so I know he’s just teasing me.

I
nod. “That’s pretty much my life right now: school and Gamma Lambda Phi,” I
admit. “What about you? Besides the band?”

“Search
and Destroy is pretty much
my
life right now. I’m also a bartender
here.”

“Oh!
That’s great!” My innate cheeriness is taking over, and I hope I don’t sound
fake. “It’s nice they let you play here, too.”

“Yeah.”
He shrugs. “It took them long enough to warm up to the idea, though.” He
glances over his shoulder like his boss might have appeared in the doorway
while we were talking.

For
a few beats, we’re both silent, looking everywhere but at each other. “Well, I’d
better get back upstairs. It’s good to see you, Jim.” I hope he knows I really
mean it.

“You,
too.”

“Hey,
Siobhan,” he calls after me as I’m about to go back up. I turn around. “We’re
doing another show this Friday. I’ll let Anna know the details. I hope you can
make it.”

I
smile. “I should be able to. See you.”

 

 

Chapter 7

 

Carly
swipes her card key in the front door of the
sorority house, and she,
Tanya and I burst inside. Except for the text books, back packs, hoodies and
dozing laptops strewn about the floor and couches, the living room is empty.
There isn’t any
sign of the impending doom implied in Victoria’s email.

“Oh,
Victoria,” Tanya sighs in exasperation as she heads for the stairs. “She’s such
a drama queen.”

“Yes.
Victoria
’s a drama queen.” I can hear the eye roll in Carly’s voice, but
then their voices become murmurs as they disappear upstairs. I start to follow
them but pause when I notice the light pouring from the open door of the
usually unused guest room on the first floor.

“Hello?”
I call tentatively, knocking lightly before peeking inside. There’s a woman
crouching down to shove the bottom drawer of the bureau closed, but she shoots
up at the sound of my voice.

“Oh,
hello there.” When she faces me I feel…

Star-struck.

Like
how I would feel in the presence of Charlize Theron or Heidi Klum. Not good
enough. Insignificant. Even wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and an old tank
top, this stranger is seriously stunning. She’s tall and slender with
sun-kissed skin—not a creepy orange like a spray-tan-gone-awry, but the
natural, golden glow my body lotion upstairs claims but fails to give me. Ash
blonde curls cascade over her shoulders to her waist and frame high cheekbones
and a small nose. I’m not great at the age game—she looks like she’s in her
thirties—but an ancient wisdom thrives in her jade green gaze.

“You
must be Siobhan.” She crosses the room in two long strides and extends her
hand. We shake.

“Actually,
it’s
Shiv-awn
.” That came out a bit more annoyed than I meant it to.
People mispronounce my name all the time. It’s just there’s something about her
tone making me feel like she’s messing it up on purpose.

“Oh,
so sorry! Siobhan. What a pretty name.” There it is again—a sneer lurking
behind the sweet lilt of her voice.

“Thanks.
And you are…?”

“Ah,
you missed Victoria’s email,” she realizes. “I’m Farrah—your new house mother.”

As
if that were her cue, Victoria charges in carrying an armful of pale pink
sheets and fluffy white towels. Dark sweat stains slash her silver and white
workout clothes. As usual, her auburn hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail,
the stray strands slicked back with a canary yellow sweatband.

“I
finally found the spare sheets,” she sighs. “Oh, you’re back.” I catch her
rolling her eyes. “How was the concert?”

“Great.”
I have to jump out of her way so she can set her load on the bed. Now I know
the reason Victoria needed us, but there are other members of the executive
board that I’m sure must have responded to her request for back up. She didn’t
really need all of us here, did she? Since when did we need a house mother,
anyway? Still, guilt twists my insides as I watch my big sister making the
guest bed, trying to smooth out all of the creases in the sheets and fluffing
the pillows.

“A
concert? Who was playing?” Farrah wants to know. I tear my eyes away from
Victoria’s obsessive inspection of the bed.

“Just
a few local bands,” I tell her.

“Sounds
like fun.” She takes out a slinky black dress from her suitcase and drapes it
over a hanger. “So what year are you, Siobhan? What are you studying?”

“I’m
a junior biology major.”

“Excellent.”
Her glossy peach lips curve into a dazzling smile. “And where’s home?”

“Laurel.
It’s about an hour away from here.”

Farrah
nods. “I know where Laurel is.”

“Oh,
are you from around here?” I wonder, assuming this must be the case since
Laurel is one of those small towns no one has ever heard of unless they’re from
the area.

Farrah
shakes her head. “No, my home is a long,
long
way from here.” Her eyes
lock on mine. Is it just me, or is she giving me a meaningful look?

“I’ve
been moving around so much for the last few years, though, that I haven’t
really felt settled anywhere,” she explains. The strange moment has passed. I
must have imagined it.

“Well,
I’ll get out of your way. Let you unpack.” I back away slowly but deliberately
until I’m almost out the door. “It was nice meeting you. I’m glad you’re here.
I think your presence will really be an asset to the chapter,” I add to impress
her. Farrah raises her eyebrows and frowns.

“No
one likes a brownnoser, Siobhan.”

My
shock over her blunt reply must show on my face because a second later tinkling
laughter fills the room.

“Oh,
relax. I was only kidding.”

No
she wasn’t.

Victoria
and I go out into the living room. Farrah gently closes the door behind us.

“Did
Headquarters tell you why they sent us a babysitter?” I whisper the question as
we’re walking up the stairs even though I think we’re safely out of earshot.

“Apparently
the only reason we haven’t had a house mother until now is because none of the
other sororities here have one, but our chapters at other schools do—so now
they’ve decided we should, too.”

“But
they didn’t give you a heads up?” We pause outside my room. The door is closed,
and the space between the floor and the bottom of the door is dark. Tanya must
have gone to bed.

“Nope.”

“I
wonder where she’s from,” I muse. “She’s kind of exotic. You don’t think she’s
hot?” I exclaim when my big sister scowls.

Victoria
looks a little green. She shakes her head. “She’s just not my type.”

“Are
you kidding me? She’s everybody’s type. She might even be
my
type.” I
widen my eyes in mock horror. “Maybe I’m gay, too.”

“Didn’t
anyone ever tell you? It’s contagious,” she hisses, wriggling her fingers at
me. I give an unladylike snort of laughter, which makes us both laugh even
harder.

“Look,
I’m sorry I didn’t come back earlier,” I say, my giggles subsiding. I’m not
sure I really have anything to apologize for, but still, I don’t want to let
her down. I’m an only child, but Victoria’s like a real older sister to me, not
just a sorority one. She was the first sister I met at the Gamma Lambda Phi
house.

Recruitment
is a marathon weekend: Four days of tripping around the Greek Quad in high
heels as you visit all of the sorority houses, networking with the sisters and
resisting the urge to take two of all of the pastel colored desserts offered to
you. On the last day I was still undecided, flip-flopping between Gamma Lambda Phi
and Alpha Rho, but then Victoria, her face lit up with the first earnest smile
I had seen the entire weekend, handed me a red velvet cupcake with pink cream
cheese frosting. Despite her striking auburn hair, which she wore in a shiny
bob that evening, Victoria didn’t fit the image of the typical sorority girl
seared in my brain. Her form-fitting black dress and pumps only accentuated her
gangly frame, and her angular face was pleasant but not pretty.

“I’m
so glad we got to know each other this weekend.” Just like her smile, her words
rang with sincerity. “I would love it if you joined our sisterhood, but I hope
we can stay friends either way.” It wasn’t just the cupcake and her frankness
that convinced me to join. Victoria was just one of those people I felt
instantly at ease with, like I used to with Anna—like I had known her forever
even though we had only just met.

“It’s
fine,” she says now through a yawn. “I was just stressed out.” She walks across
the hall to go into her own room.

“Oh,
and by the way, Max was here earlier looking for you. I told him you’d call him
as soon as you got home.”

“Gee,
thanks!” I shout after her as she slips into her room. I take out my phone, my
fingers hovering over the touchscreen keyboard. I should at least text him or
something, ask him to meet me tomorrow so that I can break things off with him
in person. He might be clingy, but he’s the only person who knows my secret,
the only guy who’s made me feel sexy just as I am.

I
let the screen dim and tiptoe into our bedroom, clicking on my desk lamp and
guiding the door shut behind me. I change into pajamas and turn the sound off
on my phone before climbing into bed. I know I can’t ignore Max forever, but I
just need some more time to figure out what the heck I’m going to say.

***

“Carly
Dragonjac!” Victoria shouts over the buzz of voices swelling in the living
room. She’s sitting on the floor with her back resting against the couch. Her
laptop is propped on her knees as she marks attendance in a spreadsheet.

“I’m
right here!”

Victoria
gives a start at the sound of Carly’s voice behind her. “Didn’t see you back
there.” Her eyes flicker to where I’m sitting beside Carly on the couch.
“Siobhan’s here,” she mutters to herself, blinking against the brightness of
the computer screen as she marks an “x” next to my name. “Tanya Giuseppi!”

“Hewe!”
Tanya calls out around a mouthful of brownie. She comes out of the kitchen
balancing a silver tray in one hand and starts passing out brownies to the
clump of sisters congregated on the living room floor.

“Elizabeth
Grant! Liz!” Victoria repeats after a beat. There’s still no answer. “Where is
Liz
?”
she grumbles in exasperation.

“This
is
last minute,” Carly reminds her. “Maybe you should cut her some
slack.”

“It’s
five o’clock on a Friday. I know she doesn’t have class,” Victoria insists,
“and it’s too early for people to be going out.” She calls out the rest of the
names, then closes her laptop and stands up. “Okay, we’re going to get
started!” Her commanding voice slices the air and cuts off the excited
chatter.  I don’t think I know anybody else who could silence a room full of
sorority girls so quickly. Tanya sits down next to Carly and offers us the
platter of brownies. We each take two.

“Today
I have the pleasure of officially introducing our new house mother.” Victoria
gestures to Farrah, who gets up from the other couch to the tune of fifty pairs
of snapping fingers. “I hope you will all join me in welcoming Farrah to our
chapter.”

“I
guess
Farrah
doesn’t have a last name,” Carly whispers. “She’s like
Madonna. Or Kesha.”

“House
mother by day, trashy pop star by night,” Tanya mutters back, which sends the
three of us into quiet snickers. Victoria shoots us a warning glare, and our
mouths snap closed.

“Thank
you, Victoria.” Farrah steps forward to take over. “I’m so excited to be here.”
She’s wearing that little black dress I saw her putting away last night, its
cowl neckline revealing just a hint of cleavage. The heels of her scarlet red
patent leather pumps click against the hardwood floor as she walks back and
forth while speaking.

“I
hope you won’t see me as some kind of babysitter.” She casts a sideways glance
to where I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch. “I know you are all bright,
responsible young women. What I hope to be is a valuable advisor and mentor so
that Gamma Lambda Phi continues to be a positive force on this campus.

“But
we can’t do so without first strengthening our organization from within. That’s
why weekly ritual practices are especially valuable.”

“Oh,
we only hold ritual practice once a month,” Victoria interjects. A few groans
have gone up around the room.

“Ladies.”
Farrah’s disapproving gaze sweeps the room. “We need to treasure our ritual. It
strengthens the bond of our sisterhood. We will have ritual practice every
week
,
after our chapter meeting on Sundays.” Victoria frowns, but keeps her mouth
shut.

“I
would also like to remind everyone that according to the House Rules curfew is
midnight during the week and two a. m. on Friday and Saturday.”

“Yeah,
but we don’t actually uphold that—” I try to tell her.

“We’re
going to start,” Farrah talks over me. “Those times are completely reasonable.”

“But
what if we want to stay over at a…um, friend’s place?” Tanya wonders.

Farrah
gives her a sweet, understanding smile. “Then you can let the house manager
know.” Carly’s curls oscillate as she straightens up, beaming. “But remember:
No boys in the house after midnight on
any
night.” Why is she looking
directly at
me
? It’s not like there’s tons of male traffic going into
and out of my room. I’ve never even had Max spend the night.

“I
know these little changes will take some getting used to,” Farrah concludes,
“but we need to be at our best. Our patron goddess was the Ancient Greeks’
paragon of victory, after all. I want Nike to shine through us every day.
‘Through strength of the mind, body and heart comes victory,’” she reminds us,
quoting our motto. Still looking at the room at large, Farrah’s hand darts out
just as Tanya’s reaching for another brownie. “And we’re going to have to cut
back on the sweets.” Tanya doesn’t seem to hear her, just looks down at her
empty hand in confusion.

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