Handpicked

by Dani Oden

  "I saw it," Hannah said.

  "It was real," Lindy said, keeping her eyes toward the ground.

  "Do we think it was Cammie's?" I asked. “Where was the rest of her?”

  Lindy shook her head, aghast. “I can’t even…”

  "We need to call the police,” I said.

  "We should," Lindy nodded.

  "But everyone will know we were in the chapter room," Hannah pointed out.

  "So?"

  "I don't want to piss off a bunch of girls who keep body parts in their basement."

  "But the police would be involved. No one could do anything to us if the police were involved," I pleaded.

  "Actually, I'm not entirely sure that's true," Lindy frowned. "I doubt this is witness-protection level stuff."

  "So?" I said again. "We should still call."

  Hannah was nearing hysteria. “No! I’m seriously afraid of what these girls would do to us if we called the police on them. They probably wouldn’t stop at our hands.”

  "She’s right. What about our parents?" Lindy said.

  "My mom would freak,” I said. “She’d go crazy at the whole sorority and probably make things worse for us.”

  "So would mine," Hannah added.

  "So we don’t want to involve them either?" Lindy said.

  "I sure as hell don't," Hannah said firmly. “What if we leave?”

  "If the three of us magically disappear, they'll know we were the ones in the chapter room,” Lindy said.

  "They're going to be mad," I said softly, the weight of our situation sinking onto my shoulders.

  No one spoke as my words hovered in the chilly morning air.

  "Girls who keep severed hands in their basement are going to be mad at us," I repeated.

  "Only if they find out," Lindy reminded me. "We need to stay calm, and make sure no one ever knows."

  "Why do they even have it?" Hannah said, her eyes wild. "What kind of sorority keeps a severed hand around?"

  I imagined how perfect and poised they'd all been, how kind and accommodating Jenna was and how glamorous Sister President seemed. Then, I thought about all the fairy tales I'd ever read, where the witches or wolves were always so friendly toward their victims right before the attack.

  "So how do we make sure they don't know it was us?" I shuddered.

  Neither of them had an answer for me.

  What we did agree on, however, was that until we figured out something that felt like a real plan, we'd be safest pretending nothing was wrong. That meant still going to pledge meetings, still getting friendly with our pledge sisters, still greeting actives in the hallway, and still acting like we had every intention of pledging and getting initiated.

  "We give them no reason to suspect or target us," Lindy summarized.

  "How are we going to look them in the eyes?" Hannah whispered dramatically.

  "Haven't we been suspicious all along? They know everything about us. We were able to look them in the eye before," Lindy shrugged, trying to see the positive.

  "Are you fucking serious? Being suspicious is hardly the same thing as finding their secret hand in the chapter room," Hannah snapped. "Did you really just compare that to wondering how they knew where you went to summer camp?"

  "They’re probably related," I said. "Seriously, you guys. Can we not bitch at each other?"

  "I'm not bitching," Hannah said, giving Lindy the side-eye.

  "You just need sleep. We all do," Lindy said firmly, not giving Hannah the chance to bite back. "And we should stick together.”

  "I didn't say we shouldn’t," Hannah grumbled.

  "Well, good. So, we agree? Pretend things are normal until we can get the hell out…?” I trailed off.

  "What if they figure out someone was in there before we can go?" Hannah asked.

  My friends fell silent. A lone jogger trotted by and we all turned our faces the other direction.

  I said, "I think if there is commotion, if it does seem like something is wrong, we just get the hell out of there."

  "I think that's the right thing to do," Lindy agreed.

  "So, like, every woman for herself?" Hannah said.

  "No, tell us or at least try to, but don't wait. Don't pack or anything. We just go. That was a hand. Someone is walking around out there with one less body part because of something going on in that house," Lindy said.

  "Hopefully they're still walking," I said.

  We roamed the neighborhood, delaying our return to Iota Beta for as long as we could. By the time we were back in the Greek System, it was after eight. Most of the girls would still be sleeping, but a few early risers would be starting their day. We decided Hannah would go in first and pretend she'd been at Evan's for the night. Lindy and I would follow a few minutes later, making it seem as if we'd just been out for an early coffee run.

  As soon as we turned the corner and could see the IB house looming at us, we all instinctively stopped. I had half-expected to see it roped off, with police and news vans and sirens blaring and helicopters hovering over it.

  There was nothing remotely unusual. The house appeared completely normal in the light of day, even cheerful. Lindy and I watched Hannah head up the front walk like nothing had happened. Moments later, we followed after her.

  "Are you going to be okay?" she asked me as we trudged up the steps.

  "I think so," I swallowed. "Are you?"

  She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, I mean, okay enough."

  "Okay enough to make it to lunchtime?"

  "I should be," she said, sounding resolute.

  "That's all we need to do. Take it a few hours at a time," I said.

  "You make it sound so easy," she said.

  "It won't be," I said. "But, it's doable."

  She repeated, "It's doable. That should be our motto."

  "I don't know how I feel about that as a motto."

  "No? What would you pick?"

  "How about 'Let's not get our appendages chopped off’?"

  Lindy wrinkled her nose and hid a smile. "That's kinda long for a motto."

  "I guess you're right. What about 'Let's not die today'?"

  "Much better."

  At the door, we listened for any unusual sounds inside. I whispered, "Seems normal enough."

  Inside the warm house, lamps on the front tables glowed softly, welcoming us back. I bit my lip and peeked around the corner. The front room was completely deserted. Though, I lost hope of a stealth entrance after we shut the door and heard a burst of laughter echoing from the dining room.

  "What would be weirder, ignoring them and going upstairs, or wandering in there and having breakfast?" I asked.

  "We're supposed to be sisters," she reminded me.

  "So we should join them all?"

  "I think so. Do you?"

  "I guess," I agreed. "It's the least suspicious."

  A small group of our pledge sisters sat together at one table, and a smattering of actives were spread out at some of the others, reading the school paper, playing on their phones, and sipping coffee. Hannah stood at the buffet with a plate in her hand, still in her pajama pants and sweatshirt. To her credit, she looked like she did on most mornings after she returned from Evan's.

  "G'morning," we greeted the other girls.

  "G'morning," they replied.

  "Morning!" Hannah called, her voice dripping with exaggerated cheeriness. She raised a spatula at us as a hello.

  "Whoa," our pledge sister Gina said. "Someone had a good night."

  "Shacker!" Darcy teased.

  "Shacker?" Hannah said, keeping her tone light.

  "Yeah, you shacked."

  "Shacked?"

  Darcy sighed, exasperated. She took her glasses off her face and rubbed the lenses with her napkin. "Yes, you spent the night at a fraternity. You shacked."

  "That's a thing?" I whispered to Lindy as we headed to the buffet.

  "Apparently," she replied.

  "Counting you, I think half of our pledge clas
s has done it already," Darcy said, like it was some grand accomplishment. My jaw dropped open, and I ducked my head to hide it my expression. Aside from Hannah, who were these girls? Did they all have boyfriends? Who were these guys? And was this what we'd been missing by keeping to ourselves and discovering discarded body parts? I was both jealous and intrigued.

  "So, how's your boyfriend?" Darcy continued nonchalantly.

  Hannah slid into a chair at their table. "He's fine, thank you very much."

  "Good for you, girl," Gina said knowingly. I would have been blushing beyond recognition if I was Hannah, but she handled it quite smoothly.

  "I would have stayed longer, but he had to leave for a pledge retreat," she said.

  The other girls nodded. "Do we go on any retreats?" Hannah changed the subject. "Has anyone heard?"

  I had absolutely no appetite, but I got some fruit and toast and sat down anyway. From different corners of the table, Lindy, Hannah and I each picked at our food. I peeked around at the other girls, checking hands, counting fingers, and hiding my nerves behind frequent sips of juice and wipes of my mouth. Why had I never noticed how nicely my pledge sisters did their nails? They wore pastels and pearly hues, trendy jewel tones, and multiple French manicures. When did they have the time?

  "Your nails are really nice," I commented to Gina, who sat next to me.

  "Thanks, I got them done at this place just off campus," she said, holding out her arm and admiring it. She had all ten fingers still.

  "I've never had my nails done," I said.

  "Never?" another girl asked.

  "Nope," I shook my head.

  "Not even for prom?" Hannah questioned from across the table.

  "Nope," I repeated.

  My statement seemed to weigh heavily on the other girls. A couple of them glanced at each other, not knowing what to say.

  "You'd enjoy it," Gina said. "This place was great, they'll take good care of you."

  "Good to know," I said.

  "What's the name of it?" Lindy inquired.

  "I don't remember. It's literally right off campus, though. Near Starbucks. It has a purple sign."

  "Maybe I'll check it out sometime," I said, like there was nothing I'd rather do than go and get my nails done.

  "You should," Gina said.

  The conversation shifted, and I stopped paying attention until Cammie’s name came up. The three of us all put our toast down in a synchronized motion as soon as her name was said. I quickly picked mine back up again, pretending to nibble.

  Tamra, who shared a closet room with her, reported that Cammie's space had been emptied out the day before. "All her stuff is gone," she reported.

  "Who took it?"

  "Did you see anyone?"

  "Was anything left?"

  "Where did they take it?" I asked.

  Tamra shrugged. No one knew.

  The rest of the morning was a blend of killing time and jumping at every sound I heard. I took the shortest shower ever because I couldn't stop thinking about armless women in robes crouching beyond the curtain, waiting for me. I headed down to the main living room and pretended to read a book all morning, ensuring that I was highly visible and everyone who walked by knew I was comfortably sitting there with all my body parts. That way, if anyone from the house had to give a statement down the road, she'd be able to say, "Well, I saw Jill just after breakfast and she was showered and reading for most of the morning. It didn't seem like she'd been up to anything suspicious whatsoever. As a matter of fact, she was super calm."

  And then, the questioner would be like, "Are you sure? You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary?"

  And then the responder, she'd be all like, "Well, now that you mention it, her hair looked amazing and effortless."

  Sometime before lunch, Lindy and Hannah wandered down to the living room and joined me. As soon as no one else was in ear shot, Hannah leaned in and whispered, "So, should we get our nails done?"

  "What? Why?" I asked. "That wasn't a real conversation. I was just being polite."

  "I know, but it'll get us all out of the house together and we can talk more about what we’re going to do."

  "It's not a bad idea," Lindy considered. "We should stay as far away as we can until we have a plan, and that would give us time together to come up with one."

  "And, this way, if our hands get chopped off, at least they'll be pretty," Hannah said, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. Lindy and I gawked at her in horror. "What? I'm serious. They'd even be able to identify us by the polish color."

  I ended up flipping through a magazine while my friends got their nails done, opting to save my money instead. Then, the three of us took a long walk through campus, talking in low voices and coming up with ideas for how each of us could gracefully, and subtly, leave Iota Beta.

  Hannah would spend extra time with Evan to support him through his hellish pledging experience. Ultimately, when the imaginary shit hit the fan, she'd say that seeing the pain he went through in his fraternity was too much to bear, and she wanted no part of the Greek System.

  "But he's handling his pledge period just fine," she protested after Lindy and I finalized her story.

  "Doesn't matter," Lindy told her firmly.

  I'd even crossed my arms and said, "It's believable."

  Hannah and I decided that Lindy's story was going to involve spending time with an ill grandfather at the hospital.

  "My only living grandparent is in Arizona and she lives by herself and still rides horses," she said, at first confused by the idea.

  "It doesn't matter," we said.

  As for me, I was supposedly spending all my time searching for an internship to help me settle on a major. For the final straw to explain my dropped membership from Iota Beta, I was going to claim to get into a super prestigious program that took up too much time and didn't allow me to attend the required number of IB events.

  "Are these stories believable?" Hannah asked, delicately blowing on her nails as we walked back to the house.

  "Let's hope so," I said.

  Things were still seemingly normal when we returned to Iota Beta. None of the actives appeared at all concerned or even aware of the fact that all of the lights in the chapter room were left on, that we'd failed to close the inner secret door, or that we'd made a mess of their hand.

  Still, we knew it could happen at any minute. "Do you think they'd notice if we all went to a hotel tonight?" I said, closing the door to my closet room.

  “Probably, but you guys can go without me," Hannah said. "Evan's pledge retreat was only a day trip. I'm sleeping there until I can make my exit."

  “Genius," Lindy said. "Another reason why Jill and I need boyfriends."

  "You guys could at least come over with me and hang out for a bit, it'll save you from trying to fake being busy all night," Hannah offered.

  “To Evan’s house?” I said to make sure I heard her right. Evan’s house was Rose Guy’s house.

  "It's not a terrible idea. We'll need the distraction," Lindy said slowly.

  "Just come with me after dinner, and stay until you're too tired to do anything but sleep when you get home."

  "Count me in," I said, thinking I might finally get to meet him. "Sounds like an easy, quiet way to get our mind off things."

  Three hours later, Lindy, Hannah and I were shouting over loud music in a darkened hallway, showing Evan the pictures on Lindy's phone and sloshing our drinks on the already soggy fraternity carpet. It wasn't a full party like we'd seen the other night, but there were at least a few dozen people criss-crossing down the hall, swaying in and out of doorframes.

  "It was not a clean cut," Hannah slurred, miming a sawing motion over her wrist. She wore one of Evan's baseball hats crookedly, so the brim kept slipping over her eyes.

  "It was so messy and gross," Lindy added.

  He shook his head as he handed Lindy back her phone, which had the picture pulled up on its tiny screen. "You guys are shitting me."
/>
  "Nope," I shook my head so aggressively I had to steady myself on the wall. "It's true!"

  THIRTEEN

  "Cross our hearts, we saw a dead bloody hand in our chapter room," Lindy said, making an imaginary X over my chest.

  "X means Chi," I giggled, swatting her away.

  Evan, who was clearly concerned, took a long swig of a beer he'd pulled from his mini-fridge. "You guys should call the police."

  "Psh, we already talked about that. They'd know we were in the chapter room," Hannah said, leaning against her boyfriend.

  "So?" he said.

  "So, they'd know we were being sneaky and they'd be so pissed," she said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

  "The police?" he asked.

  "No, the girls," she said.

  "But, you'd still have your hands," he pointed out.

  “Would we?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

  "That's a good point," Hannah said, looking at Lindy and me like her boyfriend was on to something.

  "No, no," Lindy said, waving her hand. "We already covered this. They’d be too mad, and they'd probably steal our hands and feet. Or our toes."

  "I thought it was just a hand," he said, clearly confused.

  "It was," the three of us said together.

  "Hand," I said, for clarity, and the others snickered.

  "How many have you had?" Evan asked us.

  "Two," I said, lifting up both hands, my palms open and my fingers wide. I forgot about the drink I was holding and it crashed to the floor, splashing at my feet. I wore flip-flops under my jeans, so I felt the sticky, rum-infused soda between my toes.

  "Two drinks?" he picked up the empty cup and handed it back to me, not at all concerned about the carpet.

  "Two hands,” I corrected him.

  "I meant, how many drinks have you had?" he said, speaking slowly and loudly.

  "Two," I answered, holding up the same amount of fingers.

  "Two drinks?"

  "Yes, and two hands. Two drinks and two hands."

  "Me, too," Lindy chimed in, lifting her hands, one of which held a red cup.

  "I've had three," Hannah lifted her cup.