Death by Social Suicide

The Rush Chair beamed her performance smile at us and took a final head count.

“Thirteen,” she announced, the smile never fading. “Lucky thirteen.” Her name was Candy. I assumed that was what she got stuck with when she pledged. She was probably so sweet. Candy. How original.

Her phone dinged a text, most likely announcing our approval of being led out of the hallway and into the mystery room. It was the third and final night of Rush for Delta Sigma Sigma. By now their movements seemed predictable to me. The past two nights had been tacky parties. The first was a luau complete with blow up plastic palm trees. The second a pajama party, everything was pink and poofy. It looked like a place where teddy bears went to die. Both events were grueling and painful for a social introvert such as myself.

Tonight was different though. There would be no colorful hand painted decorations or silly ice breaker games where we attempted to become best friends in twenty minutes. Tonight was serious.

Candy looked like she was going to burst with excitement. “Ladies. They’re ready!” She lined us up behind her in the hallway and opened the massive doors that were hiding the secrets of DSS. We entered the main room where the sisters were dressed head to toe in white. Each holding a candle, singing a cappella over the eerie glow. The song was a cheesy seventies song my mom used to sing all the time, now I knew why. It was probably sung at every Rush ceremony for the past forty years.

Everything about the ceremony oozed ritual and tradition. It was the sort of thing Jaime and I would have laughed at. But when he came back from college with the foreign letters across his chest, that’s when I knew I had lost him to the dark side. The only advice I could comprehend was “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” Which brings me back to the vestal virgin ritual…

Candy had ushered us against the back wall so the sisters could face us. The song had more verses than I remembered, and I tried to imagine myself, clad in white, singing those sappy lyrics to future Barbie dolls. The very idea was terrifying.

It was hard to tell them apart. They all had very similar body types—skinny, curvy, perfect. These girls did not enjoy a greasy bacon cheeseburger; that much was clear. Their hair seemed identical, too. It was just different shades of gold or rich browns with big, bouncy curls. Did they all go to the same salon before tonight? Or was perfect hair a prerequisite to pledge?

The song ended, and I was happy there would only be one round of a cappella torture tonight. The sisters blew out their candles, and the main lights flooded the room. The smiles were back, plastered on their frosted pink lips, as they fanned their eyes with manicured fingers to refrain from shedding a tear over their highly nostalgic tune. I had been in the room three minutes, and I wanted to jump out of the nearest window.

One of the dolls stepped forward, her auburn hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “Welcome, ladies. As you know, this is our last night of Rush. Later this evening, the sisters of Delta Sigma Sigma will be meeting to make some difficult decisions.” She paused for dramatic effect. I twisted my lips and chewed on the inside of my cheeks. If this ends soon, I can still catch the last half hour of The Vampire Diaries…

“In the morning, an envelope containing our answer will be placed under your door,” she continued. I glanced at the girls to the right of me. The girls who really wanted this. The girls who will fall into a sobbing fit of hibernation if the answer is no. They pinched and pulled at themselves, trying to maintain the look of what they thought would obtain their bid. None of the girls looked at me. With chipped black nail polish, ripped jeans, and a wrist tattoo, they saw me as dangerous, not to mention highly contagious. If they got too close, I might singlehandedly destroy their chances. Pledging hadn’t even begun, and already I was an exile.

Little did they know…

“For now, we ask you to relax and get acquainted with some of the sisters. Our house is filled with our fabulous alumni tonight. This would be a great opportunity to make that final impression.” Her eyes were really blue. I didn’t even know eyes came in that shade. They seemed to sparkle when they caught the light. I bet she was good at hypnotizing boys with those ocean eyes. One look and they’d sink to the bottom, deep down into the abyss of servitude.

“So there are refreshments in the back, feel free to help yourself, and thank you so much for your interest in Delta Sig.”

The hopeful girls broke into overzealous applause as I sighed and dragged my body to the refreshment table. I snatched a can of Diet Coke, wishing it was something harder. I wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight I could have used one. Alumni weaved their way around the room, making sure to target in on the fresh meat. The conversations were so coy and calculated. The way they asked if everyone was comfortable, or how they complimented outfits and accessories. This was my mother’s universe. The drive for perfection, the need to be adored. What would they say when they got to me?

I was about to find out. Brunette Barbie approached in her impeccable white tapered power suit and nude, patent leather pumps. Extending a perfect manicured hand out to me, she revealed a straight row of gleaming white teeth.

“Hi Brit.” She had read my name tag. No one actually knew who I was. Her lips barely moved when she spoke, keeping that signature smile curled across her face. Impressive. “My name is Vivian.”

I swallowed the Diet Coke still in my mouth and felt the bubbles burn down my throat before I answered.

“Hey. So… are you alumni?” I asked as I shook her hand, worried I might fracture her French manicure if I squeezed too hard.

“Yes. I graduated last year. I’m in Harvard now, pursuing law.”

“Wow.” Beauty and money. Why am I not surprised?

“You drove all the way here just for one night?” Our school was in Pennsylvania, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. We were about three hours away from Philadelphia. Why would she take a seven-hour road trip from Massachusetts just for a candlelit séance with her sisters?

“Naturally. I am committed to this sorority,” Vivian said with conviction. “And what are you interested in? Any ideas for a major yet?”

“Um. Art. I’d like to maybe have my own comic book one day.” Her smile never faltered. But I could’ve sworn I saw a vein pulsate by her temple. I wonder if it’s at all possible to shatter such a pretty face from too much tension.

“Well, that would explain your hair. I guess the human body is a blank canvas to an artist such as yourself.”

My hair was currently a deep shade of purple.

“Oh, this?” I said, pulling a bang in front of my eyes. “Nah, this was just to piss my dad off,” I lied. My dad loved my hair. He even called me Rainbow Brit because of it. Nope, if my hair mortally wounded anyone, it was my mother.

“Well aren’t you the little rebel?” Vivian scrunched up her nose at me. Clearly by her snarky tone, she was mocking me. Well, at least we knew where we stood with each other. I could respect that.

“Not at all. I just don’t believe in being phony. This is who I am.” I smiled for the first time that night.

Vivian cleared her throat and cocked her head in frustration. “So, what made you choose this sorority? Or any sorority for that matter?” I swear I could feel the heat of her anger radiating off of her body. It was a nice change to the chill that had previously been in the air.

“My mom. She was a Delta Sig. Best years of her life. In fact, I believe she’s on your wall.” I gestured out to the hallway where their wall of previous classes hung, preserving the girls forever, young and beautiful, behind glass. “Audrey Wakefield. She was even president back in the day.”

Vivian’s face fell, her eyes grew wide, and that’s when she knew the truth. I was the daughter of a Delta Sig, and therefore a legacy. By their sorority rules, they had to give me a bid.

The rest of the hour seemed to drag. No one else really spoke to me, but I caught several of the sisters huddling together and stealing glances in my direction. I was on display. The new attraction at the zoo. They probably had all checked out my mother’s picture by now, and were trying to make sense of how I came from her. They had to offer me a bid, and they were already terrified I might make it through pledging. The thought of me walking around campus wrapped in those stupid letters they wore like a badge of honor probably made their antiperspirant work overtime. The letters that made them better than everyone else.

Why the hell was I doing this? I took a deep breath and thought of Jaime. This is the kind of girl he wants. I had just told that Vivian chick I wasn’t about being phony—but being here at a Rush event made me a fraud. The truth burned in my brain like a hot poker. But, I had come this far. I gave up a scholarship to be at this school. Might as well walk the plank and take the plunge.

Brunette Barbie clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. The sisters walked briskly and held hands, forming a circle around the thirteen of us.

Oh God, they were going to sing again…

This song was worse than the first, it was a slow ballad, where they closed their eyes a lot. Sometimes they would squeeze each other’s hands and look into their partner’s eyes and smile. It was unnerving. I started reciting the Gettysburg Address in my head until they stopped.

Fore score and seven years ago…

They began to sway. The girl next to me started crying. Oh God, they had infected her.

Our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation…

They had let go of each other’s hands and placed their arms around their partner’s waists. It was the false illusion of being immersed in a warm hug where you personally were never touched. By this point, the girl next to me was bawling. The girl next to her hugged her in response. The catalyst had been sprung.

Conceived in liberty and dedicated to the fact that all men are created equal…

The singing ceased, and the sisters broke apart, allowing us to be free of their human cage. Candy turned to us and clasped her hands together as if she would burst from the emotion the song had filled her with.

“Well ladies, that’s it. I speak on behalf of all the sisters of Delta Sigma Sigma when I say, we hope you have enjoyed your time with us tonight. For those of you who will receive a bid from us, please know that our sisterhood is very sacred, and the vows are not to be taken lightly.”

Vows? Are we entering a fucking convent?

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll walk you all back to campus.”

The girls broke into pairs, two by two waving goodbye, and taking in a final look at what they all hoped would someday be their home. I pulled my hoodie up and shoved my hands into my pockets. With my head down, I shuffled out of the house and hopped down the stairs, my Converse sneakers silent as they followed clicks of the hopeful’s heels, the sound filling the night air like urban crickets. I wasn’t paying attention and almost walked right into the girl that had been crying. She had stopped and was giggling with her new BFF, the impulsive hugger, about the frat boys sitting on the stoop of their house across the street. I looked in their direction to see two guys checking out the future of Delta Sig.

“Evening ladies,” one of the guys said, tipping his red baseball cap like a southern gentleman.

“If anyone needs an escort, I’d be happy to walk you girls back to campus,” the other shouted as he stood up.

“No thanks, Beaver, you’d just get them lost,” Candy called back.

“Ladies, would it be so bad to be lost for a few hours with me?” the guy named Beaver shouted as we approached the corner. The guy in the red hat laughed, and Beaver slapped him high five.

The girls were filled with giggles as they huddled together and walked faster to keep up with their leader. My feet carried me forward, but I had no idea how. I was in shock. With my hood up, he hadn’t recognized me. But I recognized him. He still had my hat. My red hat.

The Alpha Beta chapter of Delta Sigma Sigma cordially invites Brittany Wakefield to join our sisterhood.

Congratulations and welcome to Delta Sigma Sigma.

The card was signed by the Rush leader, Candace Burke, so I guess her name really is Candy, and someone named Summer Hobbs, who I assumed was the president of Delta Sig. There was another note inside the envelope of when the first meeting would take place. Next Wednesday. Today was Friday. That gave me six days to see if I would back out or not. Believe me, I wanted to. But if this was the only way to get Jaime back, I couldn’t give up so easily. Seeing him last night in my favorite hat—Well, it just brought all the feelings back. I had almost forgotten how much I missed him.

For a passing second, I contemplated calling my mother. Isn’t this the type of daughter she always wanted? But the fear of only being ridiculed by her wrapped around my courage, suffocating it. No, she didn’t have to know. If I didn’t make it through pledging it would just be another dagger for her to slowly twist in my side. An evident reminder of how I just wasn’t good enough for her, and never would be. I tossed the card on my desk and threw myself on my bed.

Jaime.

We had lived next door since I moved to our Connecticut town when I was six. Jaime was eight. We had built Legos together, watched Rugrats and read every issue of X-Men that we could get our hands on. I used to draw superheroes and Jaime would write the dialogue. When hormones hit, Jaime put up with my mood swings. When the other girl’s started copying model’s looks, Jaime helped me bleach my brown hair and dye it blue. When I was sixteen, and fell in love with Billie Joe Armstrong, Jaime indulged me and allowed me to apply eyeliner on him after a Green Day concert.

“You’re not going to poke my eye out, right?” Jaime pulled the toilet seat down and plopped himself on top of it.

“Ugh. I do it to myself every day. My hands are steady.”

“Then why do you look like a raccoon?” He threw me a wink.

“Shut up, and hold still.” I leaned over and brought the eyeliner within an inch of his eye. “Just trust me.”

“I always do,” he sighed, “that’s my problem.” I felt his hand hook onto the side of my belt. “All right, do your worst.”

I was painfully aware of the weight of his hand on my hip. Those strange feelings I had been having for over a year started to bubble up. I pushed them down.

Despite the fact that my hand was starting to shake, I was able to glide the eyeliner easily across his skin. I moved to the other eye and did the same.

“There,” I said with a smile, satisfied with my work. “All done.”

Jaime ran his fingers through his hair and gave his head a rough shake, forcing his dark locks to stick out in all directions just like Billie Joe. “How do I look?”

“Like a rock star. Hold on, lemme grab my guitar, and we’ll snap a pic. Definitely profile worthy.” I turned to leave, but he caught my belt again.

“No pictures. This was just for you. No one else. So you lived out your fantasy, are you happy now?” His green eyes enhanced by the eyeliner was overwhelming. I had a thing for guys in eyeliner.

I don’t know what came over me, whether it was my rock star obsession, my undeniable growing crush on my best friend, or the fact that we had snuck a few beers into the concert, but I leaned down and kissed him.

My lips trembled against his. I wanted to be sexy and alluring, but it was my first kiss, and I was awkward and timid. I was about to run out the room and lock myself in my bedroom to die of embarrassment when I felt Jaime pull me closer by my belt.

Pull me closer, and kiss me back.

On Tuesday, I walked into my Life Drawing class and set up my easel. It was the only class I had where I didn’t have to think. It was my therapy. I was hoping for a challenge tonight. Maybe someone older so I could work on my details, it wasn’t easy to realistically capture aged skin. Or maybe someone with some wicked tattoo sleeves. That would be epic.

“Hey, Monster High,” Erik greeted me. He had been calling me that since we met on the first day. I had to Google what he was referring to. Turns out they were dolls that celebrated classic monsters. It was the kind of toy I would have adored growing up. Funny, if any of those sorority chicks had called me a name like that I’d probably claw their eyes out. But Erik actually meant it as a twisted compliment.

He set his easel up next to mine. I’d only known him for a few weeks, but he was easy to talk to. Pretty much the only person I spoke to since I started school here. He was tall, with blond hair just long enough to pull into a stubby ponytail, and light blue eyes. His usual attire was layered in a grunge style of clothing. T-shirts and flannel, paint splattered jeans and boots. The occasional hoodie. He was very comfortable to be around. “You ran out of here so fast last Thursday, what did you have a hot date?” He tossed his kneaded eraser onto the easel ledge and dug out his pencil from his portfolio.

“The Vampire Diaries was on. I have a thing for Ian Somerhalder.” I winked. What girl didn’t have a thing for Ian Somerhalder?

“So you like them dark haired, sexy, and bloody?”

“Pretty much.” No way was I going to tell him the truth about Delta Sig. Erik seemed like he would laugh about something like that. I mean, hell, I would laugh at something like that.

“I’ll remember that in the future.” He placed a pencil between his teeth and gathered his blond hair into a ponytail. A few hairs fell out around his face, but he ignored them.

Professor Martin walked in, clapping his hands to signal the start of class, with the model behind him. They were polar opposites. The professor was short, thin and deathly pale. The model was tall, built and had rich ebony skin. The model stepped onto the platform, disrobed and struck a pose. His muscles rippled into their new position.

“Oh this is fantastic for my ego,” Erik mumbled into his sketchpad. I just laughed and worked on the muscular figure that seemed quite familiar to me after my years of drawing superheroes.