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Jemma with a J is a pledge at Kappa, and maybe, if my luck hasn’t run out, she will be there.
Seven
Jemma
“Ladies, listen up.” Abby stands at the end of the long dining room table, dressed to perfection and a big smile on her face. “Put down your hot glue guns for one second, so I can talk to you about the event next weekend.”
Abby oozes sophistication and money in her black Dior wrap dress and velvet Balenciaga pumps. Her outfit cost more than most college student’s cars. My family has money. We own one of the largest dairy farms in the Delaware Valley. The milk most people buy from the grocery store has my last name on it, but my sister and I were not raised like Abby.
Our father taught us the value of a hard day’s work, earned through blood, sweat, and tears. From an early age, he had us hauling around milk crates and taking care of the animals. And I loved doing it. For a long time, I thought that would be my life…. until everything changed between Corey and me. More like until I had changed by realizing I wanted something different.
“Kisses for Cancer is one of our biggest philanthropic events of the year,” Abby announces, staring down the table at us, her hands now on her narrow hips. “All of you are new to Kappa Delta. You have yet to learn the importance of our charitable donations, and since it’s breast cancer awareness month, all proceeds will go to Susan G. Komen for the Cure, same as the last three years.”
For the past two hours, my pledge class has had the unfortunate task of decorating everything from shirts and skirts to tote bags and scarves with rhinestones. The Kappa girls apparently like fake jewels and Greek letters etched into some part of their bodies at all times.
“The Kappa kissing booth is one of the highlights of next weekend’s festivities, and I expect all of you to participate. I know kissing strangers is not ideal, but ladies, this is for charity.” Her voice reaches an annoying octave that almost causes me to roll my eyes. “Not only do we want to raise as much money as possible, but we also need to beat out the other sororities on campus. We’ve won the Excellence in Philanthropy Award for the last five years, and I’m not about to lose it to Zeta Beta. Are we clear?”
We each mutter yes, or some form of acceptance, and Abby perks up, her smile even wider this time. She’s so pretty and perfect all the time, never a hair out of place. Her makeup is flawless, a blend of neutrals and pinks that round out her look.
“One more thing,” she says, holding up her index finger. “We have a group of volunteers helping us out with the kissing booth. I would like each of you to do your part and check on them, make sure there’s nothing they need to do their jobs.” She angles her body to the side and holds out her hand to where Shannon, my Big Sister, pops her head out from the kitchen. “If you can all follow Shannon into the kitchen, she’ll show you how to make our famous Kappa Kool-Aid that you will be serving to our guests.”
We push out our chairs, the wooden legs scratching over the tiled floor. With all fifteen girls on their feet, about to meet Shannon in the kitchen, we come to a halt when Abby stops in front of us, her palm outstretched. “I almost forgot the most important thing. Ladies, please, no flirting with the boys. Save that for another day. Like a frat party. Kappa girls must be poised and ladylike at all times. Please don’t embarrass me or yourselves.”
I raise my eyebrows as I glance over at Zoe and Riley, who are giving me a look in return. It’s hard not to laugh at Abby’s comment. In fact, I have to do everything in power to keep my facial expression devoid of emotion. Wasn’t it already embarrassing enough when Abby made us run through the Quad dressed in American flag bathing suits? Add to the fact, I had to run into the hottest guy I’ve ever seen and then grabbed his dick on accident. Nothing pales in comparison to our previous moments of torture since accepting our bids.
Jordan and Shannon were both right about the hazing part being over. If you can even consider the few things we were asked to do, hazing. We promise not to flirt with any of the boys and proceed into the kitchen, where the entire marble bar in the center of the room is covered in various fruits.
“Okay, girls,” Shannon says, with a knife in one hand and grapefruit in the other. “It’s time to get to work. The secret to the Kappa Kool-Aid is all in the fruit… and a little bit of something special,” she adds, with a wicked grin.
