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Like most events, my sisters decided to stick to a theme. All of us are Victoria’s Secret fashion models, dressed in bras and panties. Some of the girls added rhinestones to their bras. It’s as if fake jewels are a mandatory part of every piece of clothing with the Kappa girls. They seem to have that in common with other sororities, but I don’t get the appeal.
I hate working with hot glue guns. The gems are a pain in the ass to stick to the fabric. And I honestly could give a shit if my shirt sparkles or not. I opted for a black pair of boy shorts and bra, with the minimum amount of diamonds on them.
We parade out of the chapter house and down Greek Row, our bodies on full display and our heads held high. Jordan and Shannon had convinced me this was no different than wearing a bathing suit in public. They’re right. It’s hard to believe, but somehow, I’m getting used to tramping around campus, my clothes leaving very little to the imagination.
Zoe and Riley are at my sides, the two of them not only looking the part of a Kappa girl, but also a model. They latch onto my arms, clinging to me for dear life. Even though Riley is used to wearing almost nothing in public, considering her beauty queen background, she’s always on edge when Abby is around. To be honest, Abby terrifies us all. She’s the epitome a rich bitch, down to the very tone in which she speaks to us.
Most of the time, I ignore her. Jordan doesn’t pay any mind to her, says she has more bark than bite. I tend to agree with my sister. If she wanted to, Jordan could have easily stolen the baton from Abby and become president. I think that fact is what keeps Abby from chewing me out when I’m late to chapter meetings or fail to meet her ever-growing list of demands.
Once we reach the Delta Sig house, we’re greeted by droves of people who pour out from the massive Victorian. Every house on the block is similar, with high pillars and a long covered porch. Except the lawn is littered with trash. Plastic cups, empty beer bottles, a condom wrapper, and a red bra are strewn along the grass.
This is pretty standard for Greek Row. Weekends around here are insane, the entire block thrown into complete chaos. The bulk of the fraternities are on this street, and since they don’t have a no-beer policy in effect like the sororities, they get away with murder. Their block always looks like a rundown nightmare, where the next street over is pristine. Abby would never tolerate anyone messing up the pavement near her house, nor would she deal with staring at trash as she sat on the porch and sipped her tea.
In front of the house, five girls, each wearing white bathing suits, stand in front of a row of Delta Sig brothers, who are squirting them with a hose.
Abby hisses. “Would you look at these hookers?” She comes to a halt in front of us, forcing us to stop, and turns so she’s facing us. “This kind of behavior is unladylike and will not be tolerated by a Kappa girl. Understood?”
We echo our acknowledgment, all of us in agreement.
It looks like the entire campus is either on the lawn or inside. A few guys are even on the roof, dressed in bright bathing suits, some with Hawaiian flowers on them and leis around their necks. None of them are wearing shirts, though they do have Greek letters written across their chests in ink. They’re pounding beers and screaming at girls across the street. It’s like a scene from Animal House, complete with the animals.
The lawn closer to the house is covered with trash, to the point you can’t see a thing. From the looks of it, some of the crushed beer cans are from the fraternity brothers on the roof.
“Why would they throw trash on their own lawn when they have to pick it up in the morning?” I ask Jordan.
Jordan glances over at the house and chuckles. “That’s what pledges are for, silly. Those guys aren’t cleaning shit tomorrow.”
I shake my head because I’m still a pledge.
Everyone partied at my previous college, and we had a handful of fraternities and sororities, but it was nothing compared to Strickland University’s Greek life. The entire campus comes alive on weekends, the parties spanning entire city blocks. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. And I love it, despite being somewhat overwhelmed and terrified by the madness surrounding me.
We walk past a group of drunk girls in sexy nurse costumes. They’re clasping red Solo cups of beer and hanging onto the arms of the men next to them, who are dressed like doctors. The sheer amount of people at this party amazes me. The Kappa chapter house is big, but I couldn’t imagine fitting all of these people inside.
