Page 3 of Lilies in Autumn

Falling into the desk, I hit the side of my body, sending me sprawling on the ground. “Oh, you mother fucking piece of shit, your sister’s ass!” I yell, feeling like my grandmother suddenly inhabited my body with that outburst. Lying on the ground, contemplating both my word choice and my life choices, I count the seconds until CeCe will start yelling at me for my clumsiness.

Three, two, on—

“Can we not do this here? So help me God, if you spend the majority of our four years on this campus falling over yourself, or me, I will get a new roommate. Do not test me on this.” You fall on a person once, maybe twice, and suddenly, they threaten extreme action.

“You act like I did it on purpose. The corner of the rug was folded, so your cowhide attacked me.” I glare at the offending rug. “And I fell on you one time; you didn’t get hurt. You’re fine, so get over it.”

“Ava, you tripped over a piece of lettuce in the cafeteria, fell on top of me, and then almost slammed a lunch tray in my face. If I hadn’t ducked in time, I would have broken my nose.”

“Well, you have always wanted a nose job.”

“Will you just get off the floor before someone walks by and thinks we’re weirder than we are?”

“Just give me a moment. I’m trying to make sure my spleen is still attached after that fall.”

“Knock, knock.” CeCe whips her head around while I sit up on the floor. It’s official; CeCe will never let me live this down.

Looking toward our doorway, two girls dressed in matching T-shirts and jeans are smiling at the scene before them. “So sorry to interrupt, but we saw your room from the hallway and just had to tell you how cute it is.” Both girls, one blonde and the other blonder, walk into our space and take a closer look at the decor we just finished putting up. The blonder one looks between me and CeCe. “Such a cute theme. I love the colors. I’m Felicity and this is Jordan. We’re juniors here and part of Alpha Nu. We’re having a rush party tonight, and you guys should totally come check it out.”

Still sitting on the floor, I look over at CeCe’s smile and roll my eyes at her excitement. The only thing CeCe loves more than country music is organized teams; it could be lacrosse, book clubs, or a flash mob, she would join it and somehow end up president or the leader of the group. Her Type A personality is both my favorite and least favorite thing about her.

Still smiling, CeCe nearly trips over her words. “We will definitely be there. Thank you so much for the invitation. Alpha Nu is on the top of our list for recruitment; we just signed up for Round Robin next week. We cannot wait.” I raise my eyebrow, not even trying to hide my surprise that she signed both of us up for the first sorority rush event of the year… without telling me. “I’m Celeste, but everyone calls me CeCe, and that”—she waves her hand in my direction—“is Ava. She’s not usually this clumsy, or horizontal.”

I won class klutz in high school, so that’s a blatant lie. Now is probably a good time to stand up, though. Working my way to my feet, I offer a smile and wave to Felicity and Jordan. “It’s great to meet you. We’ll be there.”

The less-blonde one, Jordan, lets out a squeal. “Awesome! The theme is dress to impress, and we’re mixing with TP. Here, give me your numbers,and I’ll send you the details for the pregame.” Handing her phone to me, then CeCe, she saves our numbers and immediately sends us a text outlining the pregame and party’s location and time. The devil works fast, but sorority girls work faster.

“Okay, just sent everything. Be at the pregame by eleven. The sober sisters will start driving everyone over to the main house around eleven-thirty. And just wait until you see these guys. TP, or Theta Phi, has some of the hottest guys on this campus, and their parties are always wild.” Jordan and Felicity share a look I can’t quite decipher.

“Okay, well, we need to go find dresses for tonight and finish inviting the best girls. See you tonight!” Leaving just as quickly as they came, Jordan and Felicity make their way down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

“So, my friend, when were you planning on telling me that you signed us up for a recruitment event? Didn’t you need my school badge number?”

“Yes, I called your mother.”

God dammit, Deborah.

“Now, come on, before you fall into more furniture.”

—

By the time we make our way to the student center, I’m hungry, bruised, and more than a little annoyed by CeCe and my mother’s interference. I’m self-aware enough to know that I would have signed up for recruitment, but it’s the deception. By taking away my choice, they planted a seed of rebellion, a kernel of defiance, that makes me not want to participate, even if I maybe, kind of, sort of, want to.

The student center, and the quad surrounding it, hold an interest fair for new and returning students. When we were unloading our cars for move-in, our resident advisor, or RA, handed us a flier for the event. Clubs, academic departments, sports, and Greek life litter the building and lawn, drawing hundreds of lonely young adults in with the promise of belonging to something. While Marymount University isn’t one of the Big Ten universities, it does have impressive athletic teams, namely soccer and football, and a huge Greek life.

“Ava, look, there’s the English Honor Society. I want to go speak with them about membership.”

I squint at the banner pinned to the table CeCe points to. Sigma Tau Delta. STD. You’d think an English honor society would have chosen better letters from the Greek alphabet.

“You go get that STD, you skank. Make sure you tell them you always wrap up… your textbooks.”

CeCe gives me her sixth eye roll of the day. “Stop yelling about STDs. You’re never going to lose your virginity if guys think you have anal warts.”

“CeCe, I find it telling that the first STD you thought of was anal warts.” I raise my eyebrow. “Do you have something to share with the class?”

“Ava, seriously, stop talking about STDs; people are staring.” She’s right. People are staring at us.

I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key. CeCe accepts my silence with a sigh of relief, grabs my hand, and leads us toward the table of venereal disease. As we approach, the two guys and the lone girl are engaged in what appears to be a heated debate. I catch the tail end of the girl’s words, “…incompetent parasites.”

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