Rush

by Lisa Patton

  “Why? It’s okay,” I say, pushing Annie Laurie’s sleeve back onto her shoulder.

  “No it’s not. I don’t want my dad thinking you’ve done something wrong when you haven’t.”

  “We need to do something,” Carter says. “She could throw up right here.” He backs off slightly, but holds on to Annie Laurie’s shoulders to steady her.

  “Let me think, let me think.” Ellie exhales loudly.

  “Take her back to her parents,” Ben says, with a goofy face.

  Carter shakes his head. “No way.”

  “I’m only kidding,” he says with a laugh.

  Will just shrugs.

  There’s a battle going on in my head. I do not want to take her back. I want to leave her right here and go happily to the game with Ellie. So why am I even considering it? Yeah, I suppose it’s the right thing to do, but Annie Laurie’s been such a jerk. The battle must have something to do with my mother. All the times I saw her like this, out-of-control-wasted on God knows what, barely able to walk a straight line. Like it or not, I don’t have a choice. “Okay. I’ve made a decision.” I look straight at Carter. “Will you help me walk her back?”

  He tips his head back, sighs.

  “I can’t do it myself.”

  After another long sigh, he glances at the guys, then back at me. “I guess.”

  “Okay, great. Ellie, you go meet your parents. Tell them Annie Laurie’s not feeling well and I walked with her back to the dorm.”

  “That’s not fair. She’s my drunk roommate. We’ll both go.”

  “There’s no point in both of us missing the first part of the game. Plus, your parents are waiting right now. Carter and I will get her back to Martin, and then I’ll text you when I’m at the gate.”

  “I hate this, Cali.” There is genuine concern in Ellie’s eyes. I can tell she’s fighting her own battle between right and wrong.

  “Me, too, but there’s no other choice. It’s the only way.”

  “Could y’all take her?” Ellie says to the guys. “Since you’re not going to the game.”

  “Excuse us.” Before any of them has a chance to answer I pull Ellie off to the side, just out of earshot. “As nice as these guys seem to be,” I tell her, “the truth is we don’t know them. I think it’s better if I walk with Carter.”

  Ellie gives me a halfhearted shrug. “You’re right. You’re so nice, Cali, and she doesn’t deserve it.”

  It always comes back to my mom. I’m too nice. Even when I shouldn’t be. Sweet little Cali. How’d you get to be so nice when your mother treated you like dirt? “You’re sweet to say that, but I think it has more to do with my general distrust of humanity. It’s very unhealthy.” I laugh nervously.

  “You’re still nice.” She gives me a hug, and we walk back to the group.

  “Sorry,” I tell them. “We needed a short pow-wow.”

  Ben puts his hand on his mouth and starts an Indian war whoop, to which Ellie reacts with such an intense eye roll that it looks like her pupils have rolled back inside her head.

  “I’ll meet you guys back here in thirty minutes,” Carter tells Will and Ben.

  “See ya around, Cali,” Will says.

  “Yeah. See ya.” I hate telling this cute guy goodbye before we’ve had a chance to get to know each other. After I give him a look that must indicate how I feel, Carter and I prop Annie Laurie’s arms on our shoulders and begin the long walk back to Martin.

  “Cali,” Ellie shouts. I turn to see her waving her room card. She runs over and slips it into the pocket of my dress.

  “You should probably stop by and tell the Whitmores Annie Laurie’s sick,” I whisper. “They’ll be frantic with worry when she doesn’t show up for the game.”

  Ellie squeezes her head in her hands. “This whole thing makes me madder by the second. I hate lying to people. Especially to my dad. He always figures it out.”

  “I know, but it’ll probably save us a lot of grief in the long run.”

  *

  What should have been a fifteen-minute walk actually takes thirty because of the number of times we’ve had to stop. I had to hold Annie Laurie’s hair back when she threw up in the bushes. Not once but twice. Carter ended up having to carry her the last ten minutes, all the way down the long, awful flight of stairs back to Martin.

  I swipe my room card to get us inside the building. Carter’s still holding Annie Laurie—like a baby—and I’m holding the door open for them, when, unfortunately, Tara Giles and her mother walk out. My heart sinks down to my toes when I see them. Tara lives closer to the elevator on our floor and we’ve become pretty good friends. She’ll not be all that surprised about Annie Laurie, but it’s her mother I’m worried about. She’s a Pi Phi advisor.

  I do the only thing I can do. I smile and say hello. Tara is friendly—she’s always friendly—and her mother gives me a warm grin. I pray she doesn’t hold this against me. If only she could smell my breath she’d know. I haven’t had a thing to drink all day, except three measly sips of a mimosa back at the Whitmores’ Grove party. As we’re walking through the lobby I realize I’m anything but inconspicuous. I may as well have a look-at-me sign pinned to my dress. The whole way up on the elevator I keep envisioning Tara’s mother’s face. I try interpreting her thoughts. But it’s futile. And stupid. Besides, there’s nothing I can do about it. What’s done is done.

  Once upstairs, Carter places Annie Laurie on top of her unmade bed and within moments she’s fast asleep. Their room is a disaster—half-empty cups all over the place and clothes strewn over the floor. Such a contrast from the first time I saw it.

  “I’ve seen her hammered before, back in high school, but never like this,” Carter says.

  I can’t take my eyes off her. Is it anger? Is it pity? Or even sorrow I’m feeling? I honestly don’t know, but whatever it is the emotion is super strong.

  Carter’s looking at her, too, probably feeling … I don’t know what the heck he’s feeling. “How much has she had? I mean, look at her,” he says. “She’s, like, passed out.”

  “I’m not really sure.” I look at my phone. “Ellie said she started around nine and it’s quarter after three.” And kickoff was fifteen minutes ago.

  “Has she taken anything else?”

  “I have no idea.” His question reminds me of her Adderall prescription. I look over my shoulder. “There’s a pill bottle over there.” I point toward her vanity.

  Carter moves over and picks up the bottle, reading the label. I watch him unscrew the cap and empty a few pills into his palm before slipping them inside the pocket of his pants. He looks straight at me. “She’ll never miss these.” Then he screws the top back on, places the bottle down where it was. “Thank you, Annie Laurie. You just made me a hundred bucks.”

  Something inside me stirs. I want to ask him how he’ll sell the pills, but I don’t.

  “So, do you want to walk back with me?” he asks.

  I look over at Annie Laurie. She’s looks horrible. Just like my mother. “I do, but I feel like I need to stay with her.”

  Carter sighs, stretches his neck from side to side. “Look, Cali, I’d stay with her, but all the pledges have to be at the House before the game ends. We have a big party tonight and we’re required to help the band set up. If I’m not there I’m screwed.”

  I’ve heard about what happens to fraternity pledges if they mess up. I don’t want that for Carter. “It’s all good. Really.” I’m sure he feels bad that I’m not going to the game now, so we look down at our feet, then out the window, over our shoulders, anywhere but at each other.

  Finally he moves toward the door. “I guess I’ll see you later. Sorry about all this.”

  “It’s not your fault. Thanks for helping. I’m sure she’ll be calling you when she wakes up.”

  Chuckling, he opens the door. “I’m sure she will. See ya, Cali.”

  I wave, then watch the door shut behind him. Now everything is oddly quiet. It’s never like t
his in the dorm. No music. No laughter. I can’t even hear Annie Laurie breathing. It scares the crap out of me to think she might not be breathing. So I go over and put a finger under her nose. When airflow warms my skin I’m relieved.

  Becoming more and more resigned to what I must do, I sit down in the desk chair, the gorgeous, linen-covered desk chair with Annie Laurie’s fancy pink monogram on the back. Her pill bottle is right in front of me. I can’t take my eyes off it. Or stop picturing Carter’s hand shoving the pills inside his pocket. So I pick it up. Rolling it around inside my palm, I hear the tiny pills clinking against the side of the plastic. Something inside urges me to unscrew the top. I could make money, too. Money that I need. Desperately. Carter made it seem so easy. There are plenty left inside. Would she even miss them?

  I slam the bottle back down. Am I crazy? Why would I want to risk everything I’ve worked for? Willing my idiocy away, I dig inside the pocket of my dress for my phone. My thumbs fly across the keys in a text to let Ellie know what’s going on, and to tell her I’m afraid to leave Annie Laurie this way.

  Right away she texts back: It’s okay. I’ll think of something to tell my parents. I feel so bad, Cal. I’m sorry you’re the one who had to take her home.

  Don’t worry. Smiley face emoji. I’ll be fine. Enjoy the game. See you soon. Three heart emojis. That’s my final text.

  Annie Laurie’s phone is dinging like crazy, but I ignore it.

  The TV remote is atop their upholstered coffee table. After searching through what seems like a thousand channels I finally find the game. Sinking into their fancy gray and white sofa, the colors of the gloomy sky out the window, I find comfort as I wrap their furry throw around me and watch my Ole Miss Rebels take down the Wofford Terriers.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  WILDA

  While Haynes and I were at the Whitmore party, Ellie had texted me to say she and Cali would meet us in front of our regular gate at two thirty, a half hour before kickoff. Ever since she was little, Ellie has loved watching the pregame activity down on the field: the cheerleaders, our superb band—the Pride of the South—and the Rebelettes.

  On the way to the stadium, as Haynes and I dodge hundreds of other hurried fans desperate to be seated before kickoff, I can swear I hear someone calling my name. Between the sound of the band playing inside and all the cheering outside it’s hard to know for sure. I stop briefly to look around, but don’t see anyone, so I catch up with Haynes and we keep striding toward the gate.

  “Mrs. Woodcock, Mrs. Woodcock!” I feel a tug on my arm and turn around to see Lizzie, the Recruitment Chair of Alpha Delt. I remember her well from the Rush Workshop. Even though she’s a senior, she looks as though she’s barely eighteen—her adorable dimples will always be her fountain of youth. The red sundress she’s wearing is similar to one of Ellie’s. “Hi, Mrs. Woodcock.” She’s panting like she ran a six-minute mile to catch up with me.

  “Well, hi, Lizzie. I thought I heard my name.”

  “Thank goodness I caught you.” She places her hand on her heart, as if she’s trying to slow it down. She must be desperate to talk to me.

  “I’m glad you did, too. What’s going on?”

  “Do you have a minute?”

  Haynes is in a hurry to meet Ellie and Cali, but I look at him with anxious eyes. “Sure, we have a minute.” I place my hand on his shoulder. “This is my husband, by the way. Haynes Woodcock. And this is Lizzie, our wonderful Recruitment Chairman.”

  Haynes shakes her hand. “Hello, Lizzie, pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you. You, too,” she says, then turns right back to me. “I was gonna call you this week, but I’d much rather tell you this in person.” A funny expression washes over her face and she winces, tucking her arms into her sides.

  “This looks top secret to me,” Haynes says. “How about I go on to the gate to meet the girls and let y’all finish this discussion?” He pulls a stack of tickets from his pocket and hands me one.

  “Great, see you in a sec.” When he walks away, I quickly turn back to Lizzie. The suspense is killing me. “What did you want to tell me?”

  Her smile is wavering. “This is, like”—she starts to talk, then stops as if she’s struggling to find the right words—“so awkward, to be honest.”

  I reach over to pat her arm. “It’s okay, honey. You can tell me.” My mind is already down the road to crazy. What have I done? What has Ellie done? Did I have poop on my pants in the meeting? What the heck is it?

  “So, at the last Recruitment meeting, when Mrs. Whitmore introduced you, I was a little surprised because … well, like, she had never told me you were taking Anne Marie Norton’s place. Technically, a Rush Advisor is not supposed to have a daughter in the sorority. Especially not one going out for Rush.”

  My hand involuntarily shoots up to my mouth, and I gasp loudly. “I had no idea.”

  “We figured you didn’t.” Lizzie nervously tucks her hair behind her ears and shifts her feet.

  “We’ll find someone else to take my place.”

  “Actually, I spoke about that with our president, Selma James, and the other alums on the board and we all decided to make an exception. It’s too late, plus we all think you’re awesome. You’re so nice and—” She leans over and whispers, “Promise not to tell anyone this?”

  With a rapid nod, I try to reassure her.

  “We love Ellie. She’s gonna get a bid to Alpha Delt.”

  At least I think that’s what she says. A kid walks by and blows one of those ear-splitting noisemakers not five feet from us. Covering my ears, I lean in closer. “Did you just say Ellie would get a bid?”

  “I’m ninety-nine point nine percent positive.”

  “I’m so relieved.” I lightly clap my hands together, beyond happy to know the other girls like Ellie.

  “I’m sure you are.” She reaches out, touches me on the shoulder. “I’d never tell you that in normal circumstances. So please, please keep it on the down low?”

  I give her the Alpha Delt secret-swear—four fingers across my heart.

  Lizzie smiles, gives it back. “The whole thing has been awkward this year because, technically, Mrs. Whitmore is, like, not supposed to be in Rush meetings.” Her voice speeds up as she’s talking. “She’s the House Corp President, and that’s great, but Recruitment is not her job. We keep wondering if she knows all this, but keeps doing it anyway, or if she just doesn’t understand the rules.”

  Holding my palms up, I say, “I’m not sure either, but we should probably give her the benefit of the doubt. Things have changed a lot since we were in school.”

  With heels lifting off the ground, she clasps her cheeks. “I know! And this is her first year as House Corp President. Maybe she thinks Recruitment is still part of her job?” She stares at me with pleading eyes, like she wants me to break all this to Lilith.

  “Are you wanting me to explain that to her?”

  “Would you?” Her eyes bug out and she puts her hands together, like she’s praying.

  “No! I mean, maybe. I’d have to think about it, Lizzie. Lilith is over the moon about her position. I don’t know what I’d say.”

  “None of us know what to say, either. It’s been, like, so weird and caused some intense issues in the House.”

  I’m not surprised by any of this. Lilith’s performance in the Rush meeting I attended was certainly awkward. But what about the other Alpha Delt advisors—Sallie and Gwen—surely one of them can break the news? They’ve been on the board longer than I have.

  Lizzie looks down at an empty cup on the ground. After squatting to pick it up, she peers at me with a pained expression. “Please think about breaking the news to Mrs. Whitmore. We all feel like you’d be the best one to do it. Since your daughters room together.”

  I groan, press my fingers to my temples. I can see her point—but if she only knew. “I guess I’ll do it,” I finally say, and a hot flash instantaneously creeps up my back. I may as well be inside a kiln.
I’m that hot. Thousands of people are rushing past and I’ve just agreed to tell Lilith Whitmore she can no longer attend Rush meetings. Now my entire face is wet.

  Lizzie doesn’t seem to notice. “Thank you.” She presses a palm to her heart, lets out a small moan. “Thank you so much. It’s been, like, so weird.”

  Yeah. It may have been weird for you, I’m thinking, but what about me? To think I have to be the one to break this news to Lilith is nothing short of getting a diagnosis of Fish Odor Syndrome. How in the heck does someone ever handle that?

  Ten full minutes later, when I finally make it to the gate, I spot Haynes standing with Ellie. Picking up my pace I race over to where they are, and nearly slip on someone’s spilled beer. Haynes reaches out to steady me then guides us into the line. “Where’s Cali?” I ask, looking around at the people near us.

  “Annie Laurie’s sick,” Ellie says. “She volunteered to walk her back to the dorm. She’ll be here soon.”

  “What a sweet girl,” I say. For some reason Haynes doesn’t comment.

  Ellie moves ahead, and as we walk through the security check Haynes whispers in my ear. “I smell a rat.”

  “Honestly, honey,” I say, in a soft voice, while the security person checks my bag, “Cali is a really nice girl. You have to trust me on this.”

  Haynes, ever the lawyer, turns his head, looks me straight in the eye. “She’s not the one stinking up the lab.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  MISS PEARL

  Sunday evenings in the House are always mellow, as most of the girls are either studying or watching TV. I’m happy for the peace and quiet and it sure feels good to get off my feet. The only thing better would be to have them soaking in a hot tub with sweet-smelling bath salts. But Mama Carla should be walking in this door any minute now, and I have a suspicion she’ll be dog-tired. Driving all that way after a stressful weekend would do anybody in. That’s why I made sure to leave her apartment cleaner than I found it.

  I’m trying to read The Triumph, the Alpha Delta Beta bi-annual magazine—its title based on the ADB motto: Triumph Over Adversity. But with every page I turn I can’t stop thinking about what happened yesterday. It was bad enough that Miss Lilith wasn’t happy about me taking Mama Carla’s place, but add Kadeesha’s stinky attitude into the mix, and, well, I’m still angry. There I was doing a fine job as housemother and Kadeesha tries ruining it for me.