Page 8 of Frat Row
“It’s nothing personal; you were great. I would give you an 8/10.” I shrug my shoulders.
He chuckles. “The way you were screaming my name, I’d say you’re lying. You had the time of your life.”
He starts getting dressed. I ignore him and turn away from him, heading to my bathroom. I turn on my shower and poke my head out. “You remember your way out, right?”
Shaking his head, snickering, he says, “Pretty sure it’s the same way we came in.”
“Okay, well, have a good night then,” I yell at him, jumping in the shower as I hear the front door shut. I smile to myself as I think about the mind-blowing experience I just had. This college is so big that the chance of me ever seeing Tyler again is slim to none.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The front door of our apartment slams, and I jolt upright in my bed, looking around in confusion at first about where I am since we just moved in. I slept like the dead, a totally dreamless sleep. If this is how you sleep after incredible sex, sign me the fuck up. Usually, I need sleeping pills since I suffer from insomnia and can never lie still.
Typically, I’m a night owl.
My phone pings twice in a row. I rub my eyes, grumbling, and reach over on my nightstand for it. I squint at the screen, letting my eyes adjust to the light from a massive hangover. Naturally, the texts are from Blair.
Blair: Rise and shine, skank.
Blair: Come to the school cafeteria; let’s get breakfast, compare dick sizes, and then head to the assembly.
Grinning widely while rubbing my face, I quickly text her back.
Me: Give me 15, you whore!
Stretching my arms over my head while yawning louder than necessary, I move achingly and get out of bed, stumbling to my bathroom. Confronting it head-on, I go straight for the mirror to see what I’m working with today, which is honestly a lot.
My vagina feels like a train ran through it.
Scanning my reflection, it is confirmed I look well and thoroughly fucked, with a bit of bruising around my throat and nipples. Rubbing my fingers over my chest and across my nipples quickly sends a shiver straight to the middle of my thighs. I’m going to need the more expensive makeup in my collection to cover this up today. I highly doubt any sorority sisters would like to know how much I enjoy being roughly dicked down. Although, as far as rumors go, they would love to hear it. It would undeniably make this day more bearable.
Making a fast, last-minute decision, I brush my hair, trying to get the knots out, slick it back into a high ponytail, and apply some light makeup, including a full-coverage foundation on my throat. In a rush, I brush my teeth while peeing.
I silently curse to myself because I remember today is the longest day of the sorority rush. Closing my eyes, wishing the day away, I think about what exactly sorority rush week is going to entail.
There are five days total, with the sixth day being bid day. On the first day, you must visit every house and engage ina polite meet-and-greet, chatting about absolutely nothing of importance. They know ahead of time that we are legacies. They hang our pictures up, talk about us in-depth, and vote on whether we receive. They are hoping that we automatically pick them, as it makes it easier for a mutual decision, and they don’t have to work as hard selling themselves to us and why it would be a great fit.
Sometimes, even though it’s rare, girls will choose other sororities where they have no familial relations to guarantee their entrance. It is much harder this way, especially at a huge college like the University of Miami.
Being a legacy, I’m part of the minority. Statistically, over one-third of people who rush are legacies. Legacies are individuals in your family tree who were members of the same sorority; it’s essentially your golden ticket in, and you must have a handwritten letter from a former sister with their badge number, stating that they are vouching for you.
Blair and I only have our eyes on Zeta Kappa Phi. Our mothers were in the same sorority but attended different colleges. We’ve always talked about it since we were little about how we were going to go to the same college and be sorority sisters.
It has been our dream to be here together.
Throwing my head back and huffing like a toddler having a tantrum, I do a quick peek through my closet, deciding on something to wear. I’m going for the ‘I want this, but I’m not desperate’ look. They are going to want me more than I want them.
Not to be arrogant, but they would be lucky to have me. I was heavily involved in sports and extracurricular activities in high school, in addition to volunteering at the local animal shelter.
I love dogs; if someone says they don’t, then run for the hills; they aren’t normal.
Ultimately, I settle on a white ruffled stretch satin midi dress with thin straps and small pink flowers from Anthropologie. It shows off every curve I have while looking somewhat sophisticated. I pair it with white strappy sandals with low heels. Also, I put a ton of sunscreen on, trying not to miss a single spot that isn’t covered. Today, there will be tons of walking outside. The sun is unforgiving, and this Florida heat is deadly. At least I’ll get my steps in today, so there’s that.
As my mom has always said, first impressions are everything. I reach for my wristlet and my phone, mentally double-checking that I have everything, and head out the door. I lock the front door and check to make sure it’s locked a couple of times because you can never be too safe, and then I head straight to the cafeteria to gossip with my best friend.
Since we live off campus, I jump in my navy Mazda SUV and play my favorite album, Midnights, and right away, I feel better, convincing myself that today is going to be a good day.
CHAPTER NINE
