by Sherry Soule
Jenny stepped into my personal space and poked a finger into my chest. “Just admit that you sent the email trading sex for a bump in grades, so we can call it a day.”
“Taking responsibility for your actions is the true sign of a ZB. Not that you’ll ever be one,” Marisa said.
My life had taken a total detour into this weird fiesta of wild accusations, nasty lies, and sex scandals. Was I on some hidden reality TV show?
Jenny tilted her head and pointed at me. “And aren’t you dating an ATO boy? Why are you even still here?”
“Only because she’s a legacy,” Raven said, her lips curling in disgust.
“I’m not dating anyone,” I mumbled. “We’re just friends.”
“That’s not what it looks like,” Jenny said. “Cole Prescott isn’t hooking up with anyone else now that he’s been hanging with you, so it makes me wonder if the gossip is true.”
I had no response. Why should anyone believe me after all the lies I’d told? I’d been backed into a corner with no escape.
“Why is everyone ganging up on me?” I demanded.
“Because you’re a liar. You told me your parents died in house fire,” Raven said very loudly. “Then I heard from Brooklyn that you dad’s a high-powered senator, who’s alive and well and living in Los Angeles.”
Ah, crap. I had said that. My heart began to race. I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye and shrugged. “I know what I said…I just exaggerated a little.”
Her jaw dropped. “You killed off your own parents, and you call that exaggerating a little?” Her Gestapo stare drilled into my forehead. “What is wrong with you?”
I held up my arm and spread out my fingers, ticking off each thing. “Let me count on one hand…according to the state, I’m 51/50, I have a tendency to compulsively lie, I’ve had my heart brutally broken, and some creeper on campus is trying to ruin my life.”
“Get serious,” Amber said. “You’re really weird.”
“Define weird,” I said.
Raven leaned close to me. “Stop stalling.”
I turned my face, avoiding direct eye contact. “Can’t we talk about this later? Don’t you think we should focus on the sex emails instead?”
“No.” Amber shook her head. “Why did you say that your parents were dead?”
I shrugged. “I had a reason.”
“It better be a good one,” Raven said.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“Something horrible happened to me back in Los Angeles and my dad told me not to tell anyone and embarrass the family, so I made up a few stories about why I’d left…”
“Just tell us the truth,” Raven said. “No more lies. I don’t want to be down here any longer than I have to.”
If these girls were to become my sorority sisters, then it was time to fess up. Taking a breath and letting it out, I told them all about my awful breakup with Seth and his humiliating engagement to my former roommate, then how I’d gotten so despondent that I’d been put into the mental ward for two months. The room fell into a deathlike silence when I explained how my senator father had discovered the affair and forbid me from telling anyone and causing a scandal during an election year.
Sagging against a wall, the tension in my shoulders dissolved. It felt strangely good to tell the truth for once.
When I’d finished, Jenny was hugging herself and Marisa bit her bottom lip. Raven’s mouth was open and closing like a goldfish sucking in air. And Amber actually had tears in her eyes.
“That’s way harsh. Your dad is beastly!” Jenny exclaimed.
“Sorry for coming down on you so hard,” Marisa said.
“I wouldn’t want people knowing about my mortifying breakup, either,” Amber added.
“Boys suck.” Raven gave me a quick pat on the back. “You have bad taste in men, girl.”
“And if the STD rumor is false,” Jenny said, “then who sent in that gossip tip?”
“Or the sex email?” Marisa asked.
“One of you?” I said. “Or maybe one of Cole’s jealous ex-girlfriends.”
“So,” Raven said to me, “what’s the deal with you and Mr. Prescott, anyway?”
“You mean Cole?” I asked.
“No, Cole’s dad. Yes, bitch, Cole!”
“Um, I don’t know. He’s really hot, but if ATO boys are off-limits to ZBs, then I guess our friendship can’t go anywhere.” This was about as honest an answer as I could give her. I still had to play it safe.
“Do you like him?” Amber asked.
I stared down at the dirty basement floor. “Yeah. I mean, he seems cool and like he really cares about me.”
Amber wandered over to the staircase and the three remaining pledges tightened the circle around me.
“And you think he’s smokin’ hot?” Jenny asked.
I glanced back up at the other girls. “Yeah, but—”
“What is there to know besides that?” Raven asked, cocking her head to one side. “You could de-pledge and be together.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ah, I see where this is going, but sorry. I’m not de-pledging just yet.”
Amber stomped down the steps, and then stood near the stairwell with both hands on her narrow hips. “I tried the door, but they locked it.” She groaned. “I have an exam in the morning and I do not need this immature crap. I thought pledging would be fun, but I’m sick of it already.”
“You dropping?” Raven asked almost gleefully.
“Yeah. I’m done with this bullshit,” Amber replied. “The minute they unlock the door, I’m quitting.”
Hours passed while we discussed the emails. Everyone denied having any involvement. I was afraid that we’d be spending the night in this dark and musty room.
Finally, the door opened and Claire marched downstairs. “Anyone ready to admit guilt?”
No one answered. We shuffled our feet and turned away from her hard stare.
Claire huffed. “Fine, but we will get to the bottom of this shit. We’re gonna let you go back to your dorms. We’ll meet back here in two weeks while each chapter president deliberates on what we plan to do. We may have to drop every single one of you as a PNM.”
BLACKMAIL
One afternoon, I had the room to myself and I needed to study. I banished thoughts of Cole’s hands, lips, cute dimple, and booted up my sleek laptop. I hadn’t checked my email since yesterday. Only one new message from an unknown address. Apprehensively, I clicked it open. A sizzle of nerves struck my senses.
My mouth went dry. That overwhelming sense of dread seeped from my chest all the way down into my gut, squirming around like snakes in my belly. I took a deep breath. Then another. I straightened in the chair, staring at the sentence glaring back at me. My hand hovered over the mouse. My sorority hater had struck again.
Just delete it. Delete it and ignore the message.
STOP DATING COLE PRESCOTT OR YOUR
RELATIONSHIP WILL BE EXPOSED TO THE ZETA BETAS
I sat back. My heart hurt, it was beating too hard in my chest. I could ignore it no longer. I doubted these pranks were a sick, sadistic game played by the Zeta Beta sisters. Now these warnings were straight up blackmail.
A loud rap on the door made my heart slam into my sternum. Maybe Vanessa had forgotten her key. I stood on wobbly legs and forced myself to cross the room.
“Who is it?” I croaked.
“It’s Cole. Open up, blondie.”
I unlocked the door and flung it open. The moment Cole saw my face, he rushed forward and took me in his strong embrace.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He shut the door and gently pushed me back onto the bed. He sat next to me and held my hand. “You’re trembling and look sorta green.”
“That…” I pointed a shaky hand at the laptop with the message still on the screen.
Cole went to my desk and read the email, then frowned. “Who sent this to you?”
I shrugged. “I thought a pledge was pranking me with these twisted warni
ngs. Today, I open my email and find this.” I quickly filled him in on the weird goings on and the bloody animal heart.
“This is straight-up blackmail. We need to contact campus police.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed, then spoke into the receiver. “Hey, Mac, its Cole…yeah, I’m not calling about that. My girlfriend is being harassed by someone on campus and we’d like to file a report.” He listened to the cop for a minute before adding, “Can you send someone to Stevenson Hall? Uh-huh. Yes. Okay, thanks.” Cole hung up and retook his seat beside me.
“W-what do I tell them?”
“The truth, Serena. This has been going on for long enough and it’s time you reported it.”
It didn’t take long for campus security to show up and listen to my story. The two cops nodded solemnly and took notes. The whole time, Cole kept one arm securely around me. They told me to keep them in the loop if anything else happened. After they left, Cole stood and paced between the two beds, then ran his hand through his hair.
“You need to eat. Dinner’s on me,” Cole said.
I rested my head in my hands. “I can’t. I feel like hurling…so you’ve been warned.”
He peeled my fingers away from my face. “Trust me, Serena. Food will make you feel better.”
“Okay.” I tried to smile and failed miserably. I put on my leather coat in a numb daze, and although I doubted I could eat, I didn’t want to be alone. Like ever.
Cole took my hand and threaded our fingers. “It’s a nice night. Let’s walk.”
I shook my head. “Seriously? I’ll be giving myself whiplash checking for that creeptastic sorority hater that’s probably stalking my every move!”
“Don’t you think I can protect you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Shhhh. I got you.” He kissed the top of my head. “No one’s gonna hurt my girl on my watch. Let’s go.” Cole tugged on my hand.
His protectiveness blanketed me in warm bubble of safety and comfort, and the last of the tension left my body. We left Stevenson and walked in silence for several minutes before he spoke again.
“I’m sorry that I lost my temper the other night, it wasn’t cool.” He took my hand and threaded our fingers.
“No need to apologize. Seth deserved to have his ass handed to him.”
We held hands until we neared a pizza place a mile away from the college. Cole opened the door and we strode to a dark booth in the corner away from the other patrons. We slid onto opposite seats and I felt my whole body sigh. Cole ordered a large pepperoni pizza and two sodas.
Once the waitress departed, Cole leaned across the table. “Have you explained to the Zeta Betas that someone is sabotaging your chances of getting a bid yet?”
I shrugged. “I tried, but I mean, who would believe me after all the lying I did?”
“I would, Serena.” Cole sat back and drummed his fingers on the table. “Wanna play a game to get your mind off what happened?”
I placed the napkin in my lap. “Here? Now?”
“Yes. It’s called word association. I say something and you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Um, all right.”
“College,” he said, leaning back.
“Escape.”
“Sororities.”
“Evil…no, I mean, sisterhood.”
“Animals.”
“Loveable.”
“Parents.”
I took a sip of water. “Difficult.”
“Love.”
“Complicated.”
“Sex.”
“Isn’t it my turn yet?” I asked.
Before he could reply, the waitress returned with our food. We ate quietly, devouring the pizza. Cole was right. Eating did make me feel better.
He wiped the corners of his mouth, laid his napkin beside his plate, and sat back. “I’m stuffed.”
I patted my stomach. “Me too.”
We ordered two more sodas and lounged in our seats, as if neither one of us was quite ready to go back to campus and face reality.
“Are you going to tell your family what’s going on?” Cole asked. “About your stalker?”
“I think we’ve already covered that topic,” I said. “They’d rather pretend I didn’t exist. And I don’t want my dad to freak and put me back into therapy.”
No college. No Paris. No Cole. No thank you!
“I told you about my family drama, so why can’t you talk about yours?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got enough to deal with.”
“Come on, beautiful.” Cole extended his hand across the table, reaching for mine and laced our fingers. “Don’t cut me off now. Not when you’re just starting to open up. You can trust me. Scout’s honor.” He held his hand up and split the two fingers.
“That’s the ‘live long and prosper sign,’ Spock.” I shook my head with a faint grin. “You were never a Boy Scout, were you?”
“Got me. But at least you’re smiling again.” Cole traced lazy circles into my palm with his finger. “I’ll always be here for you, Serena. I mean it. When I said I loved you the other night, it was a pretty big deal. It’s not something I toss around lightly.”
“I know and I’m glad I have you watching my back.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let some passive-aggressive keep tormenting you.”
I brushed the side of his hand with my thumb. “It’s okay, Cole. It’s probably some harmless prank and I’m just overreacting. We’ve told campus police and they’ll find the culprit.”
The tension in his face increased. “I don’t think it’s a prank, and you’re not overreacting to these blatant threats.”
I sighed. Obviously, trying to pretend nothing got to me and blowing off my anonymous emailer wouldn’t deter Cole in his mission to protect me, which I found endearing.
I pulled his hand toward me, causing him to lean over the table. “I appreciate your alpha male protectiveness, but I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” Cole lifted his eyebrows suggestively. “But I think there’s also other parts of me you appreciate, if memory serves.”
I giggled. Something I hadn’t thought possible a few hours ago, during my freak out. Cole chuckled too, the low rumble of his laughter sending sizzles of desire through me.
From across the room, I caught three women staring through the window at us. The ZB trio: Jade, Brooklyn, and Claire. Busted. Caught having dinner with an ATO boy.
Almost immediately, a tingle of ice zipped through my body. I yanked my hand away from Cole’s as if his touch had zapped me with a high-voltage rush of electricity.
Turning my head, I gazed at the boy sitting across from me and suddenly all I could think about was all the stupid mistakes I’d made with my love life. I couldn’t do this. Not again. I had to protect myself and my heart from being stomped to a bloody pulp.
“I’m sorry, Cole.” I stood and tossed the napkin on the table. “But I can’t do this. I have a goal, you know? And if I let my damn hormones take over again—boom! Everything blows up in my face. I can’t risk it. Not again. Not even for you.”
His eyebrows jerked upward. “Don’t do this. Please. I love you.”
“I love you too, but I can’t give up everything for a guy.”
“But I don’t want you to give up anything for me or our relationship, Serena,” Cole said, his voice shaking as if a violent emotion was swirling inside him.
“Maybe we just weren’t meant to be…” I whispered.
Cole stared at me, and clinched his jaw so tight, I thought his teeth would crack. “That’s bullshit. You said it yourself, if two people are meant to be together, then they’ll find a way to be with each other.”
“But I have other things I need to figure out before I can commit to a relationship with you or anybody.” My eyes felt hot with unshed tears. “I know what you want, but I just can’t—right now.”
“Maybe you just need some time to sort things out, l
ike your priorities,” he replied in a calmer tone. “You could’ve just said that. You don’t have to keep running away.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I think that’s what you do.” Cole sighed. “Moving thousands of miles away didn’t change who you are or heal your heart from the past.”
“It was a start...a chance to forget the bad choices I’d made.”
“And you think running away from your problems again is going to make them disappear?”
“No. But it’s easier.”
“For who?”
The air seemed thinner. No oxygen. I was suffocating. I had to get out. Now.
I snapped into self-indulgent bitch mode. “I just need some space.”
“That’s a euphemism, and we both know it. I can’t believe you’re doing this for them.”
“I’m not. I swear it. I just need to get through recruitment, okay?” I walked briskly toward the exit.
“Serena! Wait,” he called, his voice desperate.
My legs felt heavy and weighted down. But I kept going and closed the door on Cole and our relationship. I prayed he’d understand and forgive me. Until I was through with Pledge Hell, I couldn’t keep secretly dating Cole, deal with my sorority hater, catch up on my studies, and cope with all the Greek drama. Plus, I had to follow the Zeta Betas’s strict dating rules.
And I had no idea what my punishment would be.
CALLED TO STANDARDS
Sitting through a two hour long popular culture studies class Thursday afternoon hadn’t been as terrible as I thought it would be. But my mind kept returning to the night I’d been caught on a date with Cole by the Zeta Beta trio, then broken up with him.
After class, I hiked it back to my empty dorm room, sat on my desk chair, and bawled. I felt crowded in my own skin. Sweat followed by cold chills plagued me. My mascara was all over my shirt, and the plastic chair creaked with my back-and-forth sobbing. Listening to Sheryl Crow’s “Strong Enough” on repeat while drowning in a bottle of Pinot Grigio sounded like a good option, but I couldn’t let myself get that depressed again.
