by Dani Oden
After a few minutes of the most perfect kissing I’d ever experienced, he pulled back and whispered, “I remember you from the last night of girl rush.”
Warmth filled my veins. “You do?”
“I do, I gave you a rose. I wanted to ask your name but you ran off so quick.”
“I wanted you to, too.”
He snuggled up to me. “I’m so glad we bumped into each other again.”
“Me, too.”
Right then, I understood why so many of my sorority sisters had already tried this shacking thing.
FIFTEEN
In the morning as the heavy sleep slowly left my body, I yawned and tried to remember everything that had happened in the last day. I let the list tick through my head: chapter room, hand, exit plan, fraternity, Tad, bed.
His cave was cheerful with the sun slipping in through the thin yellow sheets, it was like waking up in a cozy desert. I stretched my arms over my head and thought about what to do next. Wait for him to wake? Get up and get dressed? Go down the main stairwell and out the front of the house? Find a more discrete exit? Climb out the window? So many choices.
He stirred before I could come to any conclusions. He mumbled, "Mm, you awake?"
"Yes," I whispered, wondering if we were alone.
"Morning," he said sleepily.
"Morning," I answered.
He squeezed me tighter and said, "You smell good."
"Thanks," I said softly.
"You don't have to whisper," he told me. "We're by ourselves."
"I thought you and Evan were roommates."
"We are, but I put the sock on the door."
"A sock? I didn't know people really did that."
"We do here," he said.
"That's convenient," I said carefully. "So, that usually works for you?"
"This was the first time I tried it."
"That's good," I rolled over to face him. Yep, he looked amazing in the morning. The only other guy I'd ever woken up next to was Scotty Jenkins, my fellow camp counselor from two summers ago. We snuck off during the camper's overnight and made out under the stars. When the alarm on his phone woke us thirty minutes before our cabins were going to rise, he had a trail of slug slime going straight across his forehead.
Tad, on the other hand, had practically rolled off the cover of a romance novel. His sheets were loosely gathered under his arms, his short hair was disheveled, and he had that spray of whiskers shadowing his cheeks. His eyelids were a little droopy, but in a cute way.
With my morning breath, smeary make-up, and the sleep in my eyes, I was too embarrassed to kiss him but I did put my head on his chest. He stroked my hair gently and sighed.
"Did we really just meet last night?" he finally asked.
I lifted my head up and laughed. "Yes."
He propped himself up on his elbows. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"I don't do this--" he waved his hand, meaning me in his cave, "on a regular basis. In fact, you're the first one I've shared this bed with."
"Yours is the first bed I've shared, too," I said, which was technically true since Scotty and I had zipped our sleeping bags together. And the other guy, my prom date, and I had shared a couch at his family’s lake cabin while our friends partied in the other room.
"I'm not surprised," he replied calmly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, you're really attractive so I'm sure you've had plenty of options--"
At this point, I blushed ferociously.
"But you don’t seem like the kind of girl who gets around."
"Okay?" was the only thing that seemed to be an appropriate reply.
"I meant that as a compliment."
"Thanks."
Tad insisted on walking me home, and he let me wear his sweats on the way. It was a cool morning, and the stench of beer that permeated our neighborhood from all the consecutive nights of partying was finally wearing off. Once we got past their front lawn, my phone chimed from the inside pocket of the jeans I was carrying.
"Oh..." I breathed. I had six missed calls and one new voicemail. A wave of panic radiated outward from my stomach. Gulping, I started my voicemail.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Not sure," I said over the phone.
Lindy's voice sounded breathless in the recording. "Hey, Jill, it's me. So, um, we think they've been in the chapter room. Some of the Exec girls have been going downstairs and coming back up, they're being all...quiet. We don't think all the other pledges have noticed that anything is going on. Just wanted to give you a heads-up so you aren't shocked when you get home. When do you think you'll be home? Nevermind, doesn't matter. We'll let you know if anything happens. What?" There was a brief pause in the recording. "No. Okay, fine. Hannah told me to tell you to get some for her."
The message beeped and I slid my phone from my ear and back into my pocket.
"Something about the hand?"
I'd nearly forgotten that we told him and Evan. "Not sure yet," I confessed. "We'll see."
"Can I give you my number? You can come over any time you need to."
"Really?"
"Of course. I mean, I want to see you again anyway, but if you need to get out of there, you're always welcome here."
He recited his digits for me. I entered them into my phone and then called him. When his cell rang from his pocket, I smiled, "And now you have mine."
He grinned back.
"I meant what I said," he told me as we reached the front steps of Iota Beta. He gave me a kiss on the lips and squeezed my hand before turning to walk home. I lingered for just a moment as he walked away, mentally congratulating myself for making it through the entire night without effing things up. Then, I tucked the clothes I carried under my arm and dug my hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt I still wore. Just as I touched the door knob, the door opened and I thought for a moment that Lindy and Hannah or perhaps some of the other girls were going to holler and woo at me, celebrating and teasing me for where I'd been all night.
Lindy and Hannah did nothing even close to that. They both peeked out the doorway, still in their pajamas. Neither had showered. "Come on," Hannah said emphatically, waving me forward with her hand. Lindy's eyes darted around, checking out the door, over her shoulder, and behind Hannah.
"We need to fill you in," my best friend said under her breath.
"Can I put these clothes down?" I asked, showing them my crumpled jeans and blouse.
"Fine," Lindy said. "We'll talk in your closet room."
The two of them bounded up the stairs ahead of me. I followed, nearly losing Tad's huge pants in the process. My closet room was empty, the twins were at some cheer thing, and our fellow pledge sister had gone home for the weekend.
Hannah closed the door behind me, and they settled expectantly on the couch. I dumped my clothes into my laundry bin, sat on the floor directly across from them and leaned against someone else's closet with my feet kicked out in front of me. Despite the full night of sleep I had, I was already beginning to feel weary again.
"So?" I prompted them.
"Sister President, Kayla, and Tammy, all went downstairs together about an hour ago," Lindy reported.
“Which one’s Tammy?”
“One of the VPs.”
“Do we have any idea what they're doing?"
They both shook their heads no. I peered around the room, as if college-themed paraphernalia and drunk posed pictures in pink and purple frames would help me come up with a plan.
"Do we know where they are downstairs?"
"Nope," Hannah said.
"They could just be meeting in the library, or watching something in the spare TV room," I said slowly.
"Yeah, but probably not," Lindy said firmly.
"We should at least figure out what room they’re in," I ventured.
"How? We can’t just walk down there," Hannah pointed out.
"Why not? I mean, we do live he
re," I said.
"Down to the chapter room?" Lindy clarified. "What, you want to just go down there?"
"No, not the chapter room, but downstairs. What else is down there? Library, TV room, spare closets, exercise room, storage..." I trailed off, trying to recall. "Do any of them share walls with the library?"
"The laundry room," Lindy reminded me hopefully.
"We could do laundry," I shrugged. "It'll get us close. We can at least figure out for sure if they're going in the library."
"Good idea," Hannah said. "So, you'll do it?"
"Me? Why not one of you guys?" I hoped they wouldn't notice my heaping hamper spilling out of my closet.
"We've been here all morning. They may wonder why we picked now to wash our clothes. You just got back from shacking and obviously have laundry to do," she said.
"It's way less suspicious if you do it," Lindy said apologetically.
I eyed them skeptically. "Are you guys scared?"
"No," they both said too quickly to be believable.
I kept staring.
Lindy said, "Fine, yes, but I think this is fair. We slept here last night so you didn't have to."
"So I didn't have to?" I repeated.
"Yes," she said, firmly pressing her lips together.
"How did you sleeping here allow me to sleep there?"
"Okay, maybe not me, but definitely her," Lindy said, motioning to Hannah.
"I wasn't going to say anything," Hannah said.
"But you feel the same way?" I finished for her.
"Kinda. I slept like shit last night."
"Me, too," Lindy added.
"And you guys will stop holding it against me if I go do laundry, right now, and spy on the actives?"
"Yes," they said.
"You're not giving me much of a choice."
Lindy sighed. "Maybe not. But it's Sunday morning and half the house is gone for the weekend. I can't imagine there'd be some ritual planned for right now. There's not enough people here, so it can't be anything big."
Hannah nodded. "And, it's only a few of them down there. How bad could it be?"
I narrowed my eyebrows at them. "I had the best night, and I feel like you guys are punishing me. You haven't even asked how it went with Tad."
"And we totally want to hear about it, but can we make sure we're not in danger first?"
"We already are," I reminded them. "Remember?"
They ignored my last comment.
"You did bone a hot southern guy," Hannah said. "It's the least you could do."
"We didn't bone," I said.
"So what was the point?" Hannah threw up her hands. "Seriously?"
"We did other stuff," I folded my arms, refusing to elaborate. "That's all I'm gonna say."
Lindy didn't budge. "Still. Plus, we took the time to call you and warn you and--"
"Fine, fine," I raised my hands to signal retreat. "I get it. I will take my laundry downstairs and spy on our demon sorority sisters. But if they are in the middle of some crazy sacrifice and I get stuck in the next room--"
"We'll help," Lindy offered, as Hannah nodded. "We're not going to leave you hanging down there. Do you want to be on the phone while you do it?"
"Won't that be suspicious?"
Hannah interjected. "No, it’s a good idea. Call us, put your phone on speaker and just have it in your pocket."
"And, we'll listen in from upstairs to make sure it’s going okay," Lindy said.
I considered their plan, eyeing them. "That sounds good. I want to do that."
They both stood up. Lindy reached an arm down to help me off the floor and surveyed my room. "Is that your hamper? There's at least two loads in there. This'll be easy."
"I'm doing one load of laundry," I heaved my canvas hamper out from the closet by the handles. I had to tug with such force that I nearly toppled backward. Lindy and Hannah both reached out to brace me. "One load," I said bitterly.
I ignored the fact that they made eye contact over my head as I fussed with my clothes. I couldn't see either of their expressions, but I would have bet Tad's sweats that Hannah's said something along the lines of 'She's pissed, isn't she?' while Lindy's surely indicated, 'Yeah, but she'll get over it.’
"Afterward maybe we can go to coffee and we can hear about your night?" Lindy said hopefully, picking up a sock I dropped.
"We'll see. I might take a nap," I brushed her off, and instantly felt bad about it. "Or actually, caffeine may help. Coffee sounds good."
"Where's your phone?" Hannah said from behind me. "Are you ready for me to call you?"
"Um, not yet, give me a sec," I said, buried in dirty undies, jeans and hoodies. Once I got my hamper sorted, I stood up to face my friends, blowing the hair out of my face with my own breath. "Okay, ready. Let's do this."
"Do you have your phone?" Lindy reminded me.
"Yes."
"Do you have detergent?"
"And fabric softener. Don't forget that," Hannah added with genuine concern.
"What? No. Isn't there some down there?"
"It's other people's soap. You need to bring your own, or else they'll totally know something is up," Lindy noted.
"And they'll cut off our hands," Hannah added.
"Of course. They'll know the minute I step downstairs without detergent that we found their sacrificial hand and their fancy pin," I said, my patience wearing thin.
"Can we be serious? We're just saying that you, that we, should be careful," Lindy said, sounding like her mom.
I swallowed the rebuttal I had rising in my throat and nodded. "Fine. Can I borrow your soap and your fabric softener?"
"I'll go get mine," Hannah said swiftly.
While she was away, Lindy called my phone and we set it to speaker and hers to mute, so no sound would travel from her end. We played around with putting it in my sweatshirt pocket, in Tad's sweats that I still wore, and in the waistband of my underwear before finally settling on having it in my bra. The hoodie was bulky enough that it didn't show, and it was close enough to my mouth that she could hear me clearly.
"We should have a code word," Hannah said when she got back. "If you're in trouble but you don't want them to know something's up, you say the code word so we can come get you."
"Like, laundry trouble? Or real trouble?" I said in my best smart-aleck tone.
"Real trouble," Lindy ignored my sarcasm, patting my sweatshirt.
"How about 'weiner'?" Hannah suggested earnestly.
"No," I said
"She might say that anyway, if someone asks about her night," my best friend stared at my chest. "I can't see your phone at all.”
"That's good," I said.
"What about, 'bleach'?" Lindy offered. "It won't sound weird, you'll be carrying laundry. But, we can listen for it."
"Like, 'Oh, I need to bleach this'?" I said for practice.
"Or, 'I'm glad most detergents don’t have bleach in them these days,'" Hannah corrected me.
"What, am I a housewife from the fifties? What about 'Are you guys using bleach to get rid of the bloodstains in the chapter room'?"
They stared at me, unable to tell if I was serious or not. I didn't know either.
SIXTEEN
If I remembered correctly, the laundry room hadn't even been a complete stop on the house tour, we simply poked our heads in as my guide had cheerfully explained, "This is where we do laundry. We have washers and dryers, and sinks and drying racks, if you need them. Most girls just take theirs home with them on the weekends, and have their moms do it. Mine loves to.”
I made my way down the stairs and a sophomore, this girl with short black hair and braces, whose name I think was Kate or Katie or Kelly or maybe Samantha brushed by me as she went up the stairs.
"Morning," she greeted me. "There's still one washer open."
"What?"
"One washer, for your laundry," there was a slight lisp from the metal on her teeth.
"Oh, right. Thanks."
"Yep," she said, trotting up the stairs two at a time.
Someone had taken it upon themselves to put "Wash & Dry" in bubbly pastel letters cut out of scrapbook paper on the door, as well as a collage of bubbles and suds. Had I been down there for different reasons, I would have found it to be cute. Today, it made me again wonder how much scrubbing and soap it would take to clean up the mess we left in the basement.
Shuddering, I pushed the door open with my foot. Sure enough, there were four washing machines lined up in a row on a cement floor, and three of them were rumbling with loads inside.
I set my hamper on top of the fourth one and started the load. Once the machine was whirring, I left my laundry supplies behind to go investigate. The sooner I figured out where the Exec girls were, the sooner I could go back upstairs.
The spare TV room and the exercise room were both empty. And since the only other things downstairs were storage closets (and not the big ones where they could have been doing something creepy, but the small ones that open with sliding doors), and the library. I didn't have a choice but to check it.
I crept back up to the dark doors. I'd been living there for less than two weeks, and I already hated this part of the house. A strip of light was shining in between the door and the carpet, but I couldn't hear a single sound coming from inside. The more I waited, the more I began to picture awful scenes inside the room.
I think the only reason I had it in me to explore was so I could tell Lindy and Hannah that I did. It would clearly demonstrate my courage and selflessness, which would ultimately make them feel bad for forcing me to go in the first place. With twitchy hands, I managed to push open the doors only a crack. I peeked inside, expecting to catch Sister President and her sidekick Tammy in the act of something terrible.
Instead I found Kayla, alone at the study carrel closest to the fireplace, with her back to the wall. The hinge of the door creaked as I opened it only a centimeter, and she looked up. I had no choice but to open it all the way and play it off like I'd been totally planning to come in.
