And not in a good way.
The courtyard is swarmed with fraternity boys and potential pledges. All the sororities are out in full support, sporting their letters as they deliver baked goods and decorated banners to each fraternity. For a spring semester rush, it’s pretty crowded – but nowhere near the chaos that is fall recruitment. Considering how small Palm South University is, Greek life is strong and coveted – we’re a small but extremely active group on campus and we take pride in recruiting the elite to join.
Only the fraternities have a spring rush. For us, it’s all about fall. There are two weeks in the summer completely dedicated to preparing for our recruitment, which is essentially a week of hell where every girl gets sick from straining their voices to cheer and talk to potential new members in crowded chapter rooms. We have several days with different themes where we attempt to woo the best girls into pledging Kappa Kappa Beta. I envy the boys, who merely have a few days of bromancing freshmen with the lure of parties, sports, and underage drinking.
“Oh shit, is that Skyler Thorne I see? Hide your money, boys!” Clinton yells as we approach the tent. I nudge him hard in the ribs as I set the plate of perfectly baked Snickerdoodles down.
“Don’t scare away my potential new victims before I even have the chance to play dumb, Bear!” I turn just in time to be swooped into a crushing hug. Clinton pulls back and tucks me under his arm, my hair still ruffled from the embrace.
“Wherever you decide to pledge, boys, be sure you never sit down at the poker table with this one. No matter what she says or what her sisters try to convince you of. Mark my words – this will be the best lesson you take from tonight.”
I squirm my way from under his arm and smack him playfully. “You suck.”
“You wish.” He waggles his eyebrows and I fake gag myself with my index finger. Clinton Pennington is the Social Chair for O Chi and one of my closest friends. Towering at least a foot over any of his brothers and weighing in at two-twenty has earned him the affectionate nickname of Bear, which may insinuate that he’s soft and cuddly like a teddy but in reality he’s more the grizzly, eat-your-face-off-if-you-mess-with-the-wrong-person kind of bear.
Though he is soft and cuddly on the inside, truth be told.
“I don’t get it, is she good at poker or something?” one of the freshmen asks.
I look to Clinton and stifle a laugh. “I don’t know, would you say that I’m good at poker, Bear?”
He lets out a huff of air. “If you consider winning practically every tournament there is ‘good,’ then yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Not every tournament,” I correct him, the three freshmen still staring at us confused. I’ve made a name for myself in the poker world, but I have yet to enter into the biggest tournament to prove myself against the best of the best. I’m confident in my ability to win, but I’d be lying if I said my insecurities didn’t get the best of me sometimes.
“Not yet, you mean. We all know you’re going to take it all this year,” Jess says and Clinton nods in agreement before turning back to the boys. I tried to keep the fact that I was planning on entering the American Poker Club Tournament at the end of this semester a secret, but somehow word got out. One thing I’ve learned about this school is there are no secrets – your business is everyone else’s business whether you like it or not.
“You three seriously need to turn on ESPN sometime. How have you not seen her on TV?”
One of the guys lifts his shoulders. “I don’t really watch poker.”
“Clearly,” Clinton mumbles as another one of his brothers, Willie, walks up and starts talking to the freshmen. Jess, Clinton and I walk to the back of the tent with a few cookies in hand and lean against a table.
“So, how are the potentials this year?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair to smooth it and scanning the crowd.
“I feel good about this year, Sky. I’m trying to get us a few football players so we have a shot at Intramurals this year. Losing Marshall and Tuck to graduation last year killed us.” He grabs a cookie and devours it in one bite. “There’s some transfer kid that everyone is talking about, too.”
“Transfer?” I ask, scrunching my nose. “Who the hell transfers to Palm South?”
He laughs, his large shoulders bouncing slightly. His smooth black skin looks even darker than usual and his bright white teeth illuminate the night. “Right? That’s what I said. But, apparently he’s got a pretty impressive résumé. I heard he’s a Creative Writing major though, so my money is on him going Alpha Sigma.”
“No room for the artsy nerds on your roster, Bear?” I tease.
He shrugs. “I’m more of a Sports Science kind of guy. I need someone who can throw a football with me.”
I roll my eyes. “How do you know he can’t throw a football, too?”
Clinton gives another booming laugh. “The two just don’t mesh, Sky. You’re either one or the other. Jock or nerd.”
“You talking about the new kid?” Willie asks, snatching a half-eaten cookie from my hand.
Clinton nods dismissively, temporarily distracted by his cell phone. “Yeah, I just talked to him. He seems chill. Not sure if he’ll fit in here but I like him.”
“Okay, where is this guy? I need to see what all the fuss is about,” Jess says, standing on her tiptoes to scan the crowd.
I shake my head and excuse myself. “I’m going back to the house to see if my Little is done studying yet. Behave yourself, Jess.” I give her a teasing warning and she throws her hands up in mock surrender before turning back to talk to Bear and Willie.
Cassie, my shy-but-feisty red headed Little, is only a sophomore but already has twice the schoolwork that I do. She’s a Biology major trying to go pre-med and I swear she’s the most dedicated girl in our entire organization. She’s the only one of us that can turn down a bottle of beer and a cute boy to study for an exam. She rushed the year after me and when it came time for Big/Little reveal, I wrote her name at the top of my list and I was her first pick, too. We’ve grown pretty close over the past year and a half, and there’s something about her that’s different from the rest of the girls in our sorority. She’s quirky and smart – and not ashamed to be either.
I pull out my phone and shoot her a quick text to let her know I’m on my way to get her ass out of that room when I hear a loud burst of laughter at the Alpha Sigma tent. I turn and see a group huddled around something or someone just as another ring of laughter fills the air. Curious, I tuck my phone back into the ripped pocket of my skinny jeans and walk that way.
“And that was the last time I let anyone talk me into shots of tequila.” I hear a voice finish as I peer in from the back of the crowd. A final little spurt of laughter breaks out and then a few people disperse, leaving me more room to squeeze through. When I see who everyone is gathered around, a soft, unrecognizable sound escapes my mouth and I play it off as a cough when a couple of people turn around to look at me.
Holy hell.
Talking to Adam, the president of Alpha Sig, is quite possibly the most gorgeous guy to lay Sperrys to grass at Palm South. And trust me, I’ve had a run with pretty much all of the top bachelors on campus, but none of them could hold a candle next to this guy. He’s like an Ace in a sea of deuces.
His blonde hair is a little messy but styled, the stubble on his chin just begging to scratch my neck. He’s dressed trendily in dark jeans and a sweater pulled over what appears to be a dress shirt and tie. He’s got the sleeves of the dark red sweater pushed up, accenting the muscles in his arms as he folds them over his chest. I spend more time in the gym than in the classroom and I know those arms don’t come from playing video games. He flashes a smile at Adam, laughing a little and I feel a warmth spread and dip low in my stomach. And his glasses… why am I so attracted to a black piece of plastic right now?