The Pledge

by Laura Ward

  “Did you go?” Alexis panted as she jogged to keep up with me.

  I stopped walking and turned to face her. “Lex, I was such an idiot. I thought that because he was nice to me it meant he liked me. When I told my aunt Claire that Alec was going to the dance alone and that he suggested I come too, she thought that it was an invitation. She encouraged me to ask him to go with me.”

  “Oh.” Alexis’ eyes and lips were rounded in understanding.

  I don’t know if my aunt was oblivious to the extent of my awkwardness, but I should have known better. Claire, even as she aged, was beautiful, young, and confident. She never had to deal with rejection. Rejection was my entire existence in high school. No matter how nice Alec was to me in private, I should have known that when it came down to it, his reputation was important in public. He was popular, and I was a nerd.

  “I showed up at our high school’s homecoming bonfire. Everyone was there. I asked him to go to the dance with me in front of the entire school because I thought he liked me.” We walked in silence for a moment. The crushing pain I’d buried a year ago slammed back into me. “Actually, you know what? I’m not sure I really thought he did like me. At least like that. I just wanted him to so badly that I let my aunt convince me it could happen.”

  “What happened?” Alexis’ voice was little more than a whisper.

  “He was the popular jock. I was the nerd that was constantly bullied.” I swallowed loudly against the lump in my throat. “What do you think happened? It was a recipe for disaster.”

  “He said no?”

  “Worse. He told me we weren’t in the same league.” I huffed and shook my head. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to ask him in front of everyone like that. I set myself up to be humiliated, and I was.” I blinked back my tears. “I trusted him. At the very least, I thought he was my friend. But when I became everyone’s favorite joke, he didn’t even stand up for me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, gripping myself as if I could keep all the broken parts of my heart together if I just held on tightly enough. “I was so clueless back then.”

  Alexis put her hand on my arm. “Taren, you’re in a league of your own, and that’s a good thing. You’re awesome, and he’s an ass for not being able to see that.” She put her arm around me, and we walked in silence back to the dorm. My mind was anything but silent. It relentlessly replayed that night in my thoughts until the hurt was just as acute as ever.

  ***

  “Taren, is your Instagram account under a different name?” Julie barged into our room while Alexis and I were applying makeup for today’s rush events. “I just realized we aren’t following each other. I’m posting a picture of us, and I want to tag you and Alexis.”

  Pulling the mascara wand away from my eye, I blinked before looking at her. “I don’t do social media.”

  “What the holy hell? Even my Nana has an account. She posts pics of everything from her freshly baked banana nut bread to half naked pictures of men from her favorite romance novels. Why in the world don’t you have one?” Julie tilted her head to the side, foot tapping in irritation.

  “I used to, but I deleted it.” Hoping to end the conversation, I applied mascara methodically to my other eyelashes.

  “Why?” Alexis asked, moving to stand next to Julie. I told her I didn’t have any friends in high school, but I never gave any details other than the bonfire disaster. I didn’t want them to know how bad it had been.

  “You are such a loser, Taren.”

  “Get a life.”

  “That outfit wasn’t even in style when the tags were still on it.”

  “I hope you choke on all the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

  “How often do you have to shave your back?”

  “I didn’t know being a slut was genetic.”

  “Lesbian.”

  “Shouldn’t you have a license for being that ugly?”

  “A face even a mother couldn’t love. Is that why you’re adopted?”

  Those were just some of the comments I got on my Instagram photos. My lunch had been dumped in the trash, insults whispered in my ear, and when I walked into a classroom, books were moved onto empty seats in hopes that I wouldn’t try to sit there. Not to mention that time Jesse Blevins pantsed me in gym in ninth grade. Damn those loose shorts and my “I love bacon” underwear. People called me Bacon Bits for the rest of high school. Other kids had it worse, no doubt, but still—some days were an emotional battlefield.

  A sigh escaped before I could hide it. “Look. I’ve let the past go. Let’s just say there was some cyber-bullying stuff, and I deleted my account. No biggie.” My thick voice betrayed me. All I wanted was to start over and I felt like my past was coming back to haunt me.

  Julie shook her head. “Fuck them.”

  Alexis squeezed my shoulders. “Fuck them.”

  Standing up, I took a deep breath, blinking back the painful tears. I was done with the past. I was moving on once and for all. “Fuck them! Now, let’s do this.”

  ***

  “Groups D through G, line up!” President Perky, of the Pan-Hellenic organization, coordinated all the freshman and sophomore girls for the start of Rush. We huddled in groups along Route One, ready to split up and visit the sorority houses. We’d be heading to Fraternity Row as well as the houses along the Graham Cracker. The Graham Cracker was an area between two streets that housed seven sororities. The nickname was given because the area looked like a graham cracker. I thought it just looked like a regular old rectangle, but referencing a cookie cracker made for a much better nickname.

  Julie leaned toward me. “Doesn’t it feel like we’re a herd of cattle?”

  “Yes.” I shifted nervously. “We are meeting at Danny’s Sub Shop after this, right?” This process was supposed to take three hours. I was ready for this to be over, and it hadn’t even started yet.

  Julie nodded. “Then we’ll head over to Whistler’s party.”

  “Wait, I thought you had a date with Hotpants?”

  She had gone on several dates with Junior Officer Hotpants. I thought things were going well with her flirtationship, as she called it.

  “We were eating lunch in the Union. When I looked at him closely, I realized his head was shaped like an eggplant.” Julie grimaced and scrunched up her nose. “That was it. We’re over. I can’t date a vegetable.”

  “An eggplant? You’re ridiculous.” I laughed. Glancing two groups over, Alexis stood alone, looking as if she might bolt at any minute. I waved, and she gave me a lopsided grin and a half-hearted wave in return. I empathized with her.

  I had my share of embarrassments in high school, but this? This was weirdly worse. Excited and nervous girls, dressed in “dressy-casual” as we were mandated for round one, were huddled in groups according to letter. We each wore a badge, pinned to our shirt, with a number assignment. We were cataloged, organized, lined up, and ready to be paraded in front of the sororities like cows at a farm fair.

  We crossed the street en masse, cars honking impatiently, and then split into our groups. My group was starting at the first house on the Graham Cracker. Gamma Gamma Gamma. My stomach rolled. I stared at my feet and toyed with the end of my tiny jean skirt. This was it.

  I steeled myself for judgment as the front door opened and fifty girls in matching red shirts ran out onto the lawn in front of us, lining up in rows. Music from a nearby stereo played as Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off” blared out. Except, I couldn’t hear Taylor, since the girls shouted their own perfectly rhymed lyrics to the song, “Cause our sisters gonna play, play, play, play, play and the brothers gonna say, say, say, say, say. Baby, we just gonna hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Rush with Gamma. Rush with Gamma. Wooo hooo.” They danced, bright smiles plastered on their gorgeous, magazine-worthy faces. Then they wrapped their arms around each other, demonstrating their love and devotion to their sisterhood. I supposed, anyway.

  What in the ever-loving-hell was going on?

  I turned my head to
look down the Graham Cracker. Every house was exactly the same. Girls in matching ensembles sang and danced to choreographed routines as music rang out in the air.

  When the performance ended, several girls hollered out and the rest clapped, as a thin redhead stepped forward from the crowd. “Welcome to Gamma Gamma Gamma, ladies. My name is Tiffany, and I’m Rush Chair for Tri-Gam. Please come inside for refreshments and to meet some of our sisters.”

  As she spoke, the sisters of Tri-Gam lined up on the staircase. When we walked in, they descended one by one, pairing off with the next rushee in line. Taking us by the arm, they led us into other rooms for our informal chats.

  This was definitely weird. I was feeling a little cynical about the whole process, but I was also feeling the strongest desire to fit in. For once, I just wanted to be able to belong.

  Chapter Eight

  ALEC

  I could feel Caz breathing down my neck as he chased me. He might be a powerhouse in the Acroletes gym, but out here on the football stadium steps, I was king again.

  Twenty bucks said I could finish running every set of stairs in the stadium before he could. Knowing he was fading with each set only made me push harder.

  “What’s your hurry, Hart?” Caz taunted from below. “Got a hot date?”

  “Yeah,” I yelled over my shoulder. “With your money.”

  He cursed behind me, and I grimaced with effort as I scaled the stairs two at a time.

  I thrived on the sound of Caz’s footsteps behind me. I welcomed the burn in my chest from sucking in the air. I needed the scream of my muscles as I forced my body to go just a little faster.

  My foot barely touched the top step before I spun around and charged down the stairs I’d just climbed. I flashed Caz my middle finger and a flippant grin as I passed him.

  “You’re slowing down, boss.”

  “Fuck you, Hart.” His words were hardly understandable through his labored breathing.

  I finished the last set just as Caz was starting his. Grabbing my water, I leaned against the half wall at the bottom of the stairs and emptied the entire bottle in seconds. Pushing off the wall, I paced along the front row of seats as the numbing haze of the race faded, and the thoughts crept back in my head.

  Seeing Taren at the First Look Fair dredged up shit from my past that I didn’t want to think about. I didn’t want to remember my senior year, or how big of an asshole I’d been.

  When Caz finished, he grabbed his duffle bag, water, and towel as we headed for the dining hall.

  “Don’t get used to this.” Caz growled as he threw a crumpled up bill at my chest.

  I caught the money and shoved it into my pocket. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I snatched Caz’s towel, wiping my face and neck with it.

  He tried to grab his towel from me, and I stepped out of his range. “What? No comeback? What crawled up your ass, sunshine?”

  “You really want to know?” I tilted my head side to side, stretching the tightness in my shoulders. We walked through the gate of the stadium, and I slung the towel over my shoulder.

  “Not really. I want my fucking money back. Double or nothing? This time blindfolded.” He turned to face me, and his eyebrows raised in challenge.

  We stopped at the intersection, waiting for a break in traffic so we could head over to the dining hall. “I’ll save you the pain and humiliation. You can just buy me lunch.” I threw his towel at him, and he stuffed it into his duffle.

  A flash of blonde hair passed me just as a blue car came careening around the corner. The girl’s face was buried in a textbook and earbuds were stuffed in her ears as she stepped off the curb. I grabbed her and pulled her against my chest. The blue car sped by, accompanied by the blare of a horn.

  My heart pounded against my rib cage, and my arms were wrapped protectively around her small shaking body. Jesus. The asshole missed hitting her by inches.

  “Oh my Lord. I almost died,” she whispered, yanking on the cord to pull her earphones out. She didn’t try to move away from me. Cars continued to speed by. Her book lay on the road with a dirty smudge of tire tracks across the ripped pages.

  “You’re lucky my boy has quick reflexes, sweetheart.” Caz shook his head. “You almost activated your medical plan.” He leaned over to pick up her book and closed it to peek at the cover. “Introduction to Probability,” he read. He chuckled and looked up at her. “Here’s some homework for you. What would your chance of survival have been if Hart hadn’t been here?”

  She stiffened in my arms, and I realized I was still holding on to her but I hadn’t said anything. “Are you all right?” I loosened my grip, and she slowly turned to look at me.

  Brown eyes that used to be hidden behind glasses peered up at me, frightened and vulnerable. The terrified look on her face made me forget the anger from the other day. I wanted to reassure her I wasn’t going to hurt her. Not this time.

  “Alec?” She said my name like it caused her pain. The way her mouth wrapped around those four letters was something I hadn’t realized I missed until I heard it again. My hands hung loosely around her back, and I had the urge to pull her close again. I don’t know why, but I wanted to protect her and make her forget the suffering I’d caused her in high school.

  “Are you okay, Taren?” Her mouth hung slightly open as her eyes searched my face. When she didn’t answer, I moved my hands to her shoulders to comfort her. “Do you need to sit down? It was a close call.” My fingertips tingled where they touched her bare shoulders, and my thumbs rubbed the smooth skin next to the strap of her tank top.

  Taren blinked and then pulled away, nearly falling into the street again. I reached for her, but she took two steps to the side, shaking her head. Before she turned away, her eyes flashed angrily, a silent reminder about our past. She snatched her book from Caz and took off running without another word.

  Caz watched her and laughed. “What the hell? You save a girl’s life, and she runs away scared.” He turned to face me, a crooked grin splitting his face in two. “Probably doesn’t help that you smell like a dirty jock strap.”

  I reached up and ran my hand through my hair as I watched Taren disappear in the crowd of students. “I haven’t seen her since high school. We worked on a project together.”

  Caz adjusted the strap of his duffle across his chest as we crossed the road. “Looks like she was hating on you pretty hard. What did you do, leave her to do all the work alone?”

  “No, worse. I think I broke her heart.” I rubbed my hands on the legs of my shorts as if I could wash away the shame of my actions.

  Caz’s head dropped and he groaned in disgust. “Do I look like Dr. Drew? This isn’t Loveline, Hart. I’m not the guy you have a fucking heart to heart with about your love life. That’s Jon’s gig.”

  “Who said I wanted to talk about it anyway?” I pressed my mouth in a tight line.

  He sighed and rolled his eyes, motioning with his hand for me to continue. “Okay fine. You called my bluff. What’s the deal? Was she a butterface back then?” Caz took a drink of water and grinned at my confused look. “Everything is hot but her face.”

  “Jesus. It’s no wonder you’re single.” I shook my head, thinking back to all the time Taren and I had spent together on our project. “Nah. It wasn’t like that. She was actually kind of cute. In a hot librarian kind of way.”

  “I fail to see the problem.” Caz pulled out a can of Mountain Dew from his bag, popped the top, and chugged the contents.

  My stomach revolted at the sight, and I turned away. “She was a geek. Bottom of the social ladder.” I huffed a laugh, staring ahead. “Fuck. She was so far down, she couldn’t even see the bottom rung.”

  “So? Did you like her?”

  I reached up and scratched the back of my head. I had no easy way to answer that question. “Doesn’t matter. I humiliated her in front of the entire school.”

  Caz stopped in his tracks. “That’s a dick move, Hart.” I turned, but couldn’t meet his e
yes. “I’d fucking kick a guy’s ass if he did that to one of my sisters.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and turned to walk back to the dining hall. “Yeah, well she got her revenge. We’re even.”

  ***

  I set my phone down on the desk with the speaker on so I could re-tape my lacrosse stick while my dad spoke.

  “How’s practice going?” he asked.

  “Fine.” I ran the utility knife down the handle of my stick.

  “And classes?”

  “Good.” I laid the blade aside and started peeling the tape away.

  He grunted. “Are you getting along with your teammates?”

  “Sure.” Giving him short answers was best. When I gave him detailed responses, it only gave him more fuel for criticism.

  “What do you think the team will be like? Are they any good?” he pressed. I glanced over at Caz to see if the noise was bothering him. He had his headphones on as he leaned over his desk, doing homework, while eating a plate of brownies.

  “Hard to say, Dad. Right now we’re just doing a lot of weight training and cardio workouts.” I paused as I tried to peel away a portion of the tape which was about as pliant as my father. I grunted with the effort. “Formal practices don’t start for a few months.” He knew all this. He’d been talking to Coach regularly, and it was like having a goddamn nanny cam installed in my life.

  “But you’re still working on your stick skills, right?” His voice was deliberate and tight. It was less a question and more a threat.

  “Of course.”

  “Did you sign up for the Distinguished Lecture Series?” His rapid fire questions were like a list of demands by a terrorist in a hostage crisis. He probably had a checklist drawn up by his secretary on official letterhead to keep track of my accomplishments and shortcomings.

  “Not yet.”

  He breathed heavily into the phone as if he was trying to control his frustration. “You need to do that, Alec. You need to show the faculty that you’re serious about your major. That will help you when you decide to apply for internships.”