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How does this help us bond? I almost want to ask for clarification but hold my tongue.
A few girls echo their dissatisfaction. I don’t make a peep. What’s the point? All of the tasks we’ve performed so far have been useless in my mind. This one is no different. The whole point of transferring to Strickland University in my junior year was to make new friends and try new things. I also needed a break from reality. This is pretty surreal.
None of the girls in my pledge class are thrilled. But we have to obey their every command if we want to gain entrance into this elite society. We all want Kappa Delta on our resume. Greek Life can help with our careers, or at least that’s what my mother claims. She never used her college degree. But she often talks about her sorority sisters, some of which she’s still friends with.
Before we pledged, most of us thought sororities were all about tea parties, fundraisers, and group trips to the salon. That’s how my mother made it sound. Like it was so much fun to have women you can count on for life. So far, it’s been nothing like what any of us were expecting. Though Jordan has assured me this is the hardest part. The girls aren’t trying to break us, more like find out if we have what it takes to become one of them.
After Abby finishes her speech, Jordan pulls me aside. “Don’t worry, Jem. You got this. It’s not as embarrassing as you would think. You haven’t been here long enough to see how normal it is for girls to suntan in the Quad. No one will even blink an eye at you guys in bathing suits.”
“But it’s October.”
“And still in the seventies by some miracle. Just be glad you didn’t have to do this in forty degree weather like I had to.”
I lean in to her, my voice low enough for Jordan to hear. “How much more of this do we have to endure?”
“Not much.” Jordan cups my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise.”
“I hope so,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder to see who’s around us.
“Try not to overthink it and have fun. Remember why you transferred to Strick U and why you want to join the sorority.”
She has a point. All of the sudden life changes I’ve made have a purpose. I’m here for a reason, so I’d better make the best of it.
I bite the inside of my cheek and nod.
An hour later, I’m hauling ass across campus and to the Quad, dressed in a red-white-and-blue striped two-piece bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. We look like idiots, like we’re human American flags.
Brick buildings, with an oversized lawn, which boasts a massive water fountain at the center, surround the four-sided courtyard. The Quad is a popular hangout for a lot of students, making this task even more embarrassing. Statues of William Penn and other famous Philadelphians sparkle when the midday sunlight hits them just right.
Everything is so clean and perfect, unlike the rest of the city. Strickland University doesn’t fit in this section of Philly. With the look and feel of an Ivy League school, it’s as if the grounds have been transported to another place. Once you step off the campus, that’s another story.
The building to my right has a large placard that reads Penn Hall and to my left, Jefferson Hall, respectively, the junior and senior dormitories. I live in Penn Hall. But I haven’t spent much time there since I accepted my bid to Kappa. Between school and sorority duties, I hardly sleep. I eat between breaks or on my way to class. The last month has been a non-stop rollercoaster of coordinated events.
Jordan waits with her sisters at the edge of the Quad, off to the side of the entrance to Jefferson Hall. Their eyes burn a hole through us from across the lawn. Every move we make, they are watching, waiting to see if we can hack it. Running alongside fourteen other girls, I focus on the fountain in front of me. Water shoots out from the crack in the liberty bell replica, a clever design made especially for the school by a local artist.
With Zoe Dixon, a petite blonde, on my left and Riley Shaw, a former Alabama beauty queen, on my right, we jump into the fountain. Water splashes our faces, sloshing beneath our feet. All of us laugh, now realizing this wasn’t a horrible assignment. At the same time, we hop out of the fountain, smiles stretched across our faces.
“That felt good.” Zoe pushes her wet, shoulder length hair behind her ears.
Zoe is from a town called Lower Merion, a suburb right outside the city lines. She comes from money, same as most of the students at Strick U. Her dad is a cardiothoracic surgeon, and Zoe is pre-med, following in his footsteps.
