I slowly turn from side to side, inspecting the sparkles of my dress. “Sort of like one of those mid-century tinfoil Christmas trees.”
Ayan’s attention used to be completely focused onBetaand his studies. But unlike previous years, he’s now into partying. Not just partying. Now he’sshowing offhow much he can do.
That’snotthe pre-med major I know.
Granted, he’s a senior. And he has his medical schooladmission already lined up. I don’t like men who aren’t focused.
No.
I don’t likepeoplewho aren’t focused.
“We need to stuff your bra or get you a push-up.” Ellis scans my thin frame, tapping her chin. “Stop running so much so you can grow some tits.”
“Seriously, fuck you. If I wanted to? I could pay for a pair. But I don’t want to.” Before we head out of the room, I consider wearing the padded bra I own…
No. That’s ludicrous. Utterly patriarchal.
“Don’t cover that dress up with a coat, either.” She warns me with a sharp nail pointed in my face.
“It’s January, Ellison. Andfreezingoutside. I’m wearing a coat.”
“You brought out the full name, huh? Fine, fine. But as soon as we get in the door, you’re taking it off. That dress looks amazing on you and needs to be seen.”
My hands run along the sequins, and I have to admit, it’s pretty. Chintzy. And completely not my style, which is why it came from her closet. On her, it would be body-hugging. On me, it hangs a little. Still…if I were into sparkly dresses, it would be lovely.
“Let’s get this over with.”
We head out ofOmegaHouse, aiming for Fraternity Row.
“What’s our plan?” I ask as a test, making sure she’s got it down.
She lifts her chin, dark hair waving in the crisp winter air behind her. “We marchstraighttoward Ayan and force him totell us what he’s been up to all week. You demand to know why he hasn’t been texting you back. You know, hisgirlfriendfor the last six months. The one he’s probably getting as his appointed.”
“Yes, exactly.” I swallow hard. “And if there’s someone else?” The question slips through my gritted teeth. But maybe I already know the answer. Lakshmi Patel,Iotapresident, has beencirclingtoo close. With her big tits and thick hips…and acceptance to Johns Hopkins Carey Business School. Conveniently located near where Ayan was accepted to medical school.
“You kick him in the balls, then we beat the shit out of her.” Ellis nods like this is something we could actually do.
On our high school soccer team, she once kicked a girl hard in the shin. That’s about the extent of violence I’ve seen from her. I slapped a boy in sixth-grade band for humping his saxophone and saying he’d wished it was me. Otherwise, I don’t want to get my hands dirty.
It would look bad on med school applications.
“Metaphorically,” she finishes. Like she realizes at the same time I do that we aren’t those kinds of girls.
Every step towardBetaHouse, my pulse pounds in my carotid.
It’s adrenaline. That’s all. My frontal lobe is interpreting it as anxiety. I breathe slowly, hoping my parasympathetics kick in.
“I need a shot. Hit me.” I hold out my palm to Ellis, who produces a small flask from her fuzzy coat pocket. With a deep pull, I shudder as the harsh vodka hits the back of my throat like a virus. Warmth surges through my belly, then down my limbs. “Okay, I can do this.”
Why does it feel like we’re attending a funeral and not a party?
“Ready?” she asks, hand on the doorknob.
“Yeah.” Muttering to myself, I add, “Demand to know where he is… Punt the testicles…”
Heat blasts against my skin as we enter. I hardly notice as Ellis tugs my coat off my arms, hanging it on the overfilled rack behind us.
Logan Dawson stands in the hallway like a gate he doesn’t realize he’s become. Easy enough to push past but still planted there. Blocking me. My childhood friend. My high school confidant. Pre-med, just like me. You’d think that would outweigh a set of Greek letters. It doesn’t. He’sBetanow.