Page 4 of Puck Shots
“What? Like a babysitter?”
“Nah, just you know, watch the guys don’t go too heavy on the hazing.”
“Since the Becker incident two years back, no one really gets hazed anymore. I think the worst we got was having to wash the outside of the frat house in our underwear.”
“I scored three dates out of that.” I laugh, and Luka shakes his head.
“Come on, Mr. Popular, time to fuel up for the night. This camp will be over before you know it.”
“Yeah, five days and a summer cup showdown game to go.”
“I can’t wait to be back. Do you think they’ll let us share the attic again, or do you think the work we put into it last year will have other guys wanting it?”
It’s good to hear that Luka is just as keen to share the same room we scored last year. Other than the missing drywall and being generally shit, we also shared the space with a squirrel we named Gunther for a few months until he disappeared. Maybe he’s still in here, hiding his nuts behind the drywall we put up. The derelict state of the place was part of the reason we got it, but Luka’s dad’s a builder and did up the bathroom for us, so now it’s less shit. “I bet they give it to someone else this year now that we made it half decent.”
“Riley messaged a few days ago asking if I cared if we shared it again this year. Apparently, there are a bunch of newbies rushing this year.”
“And you said yes, right?”
I don’t answer right away, and he nudges my side. “Please tell me I’m not sharing with Hewie, Dewy, and Louie?”
I laugh. “No, we’re good. It’s just us up there again this year. I think they’re probably hoping we do the rest of the work to fix it up so that when they do kick us out of there, it will be an actual livable space.”
“Phew. You had me worried for a second.”
“Hewie’s coming tonight, and I’m telling him you didn’t want to room with him.”
“It’s not him, it’s Dewey and Louie I can’t stand.”
“You mean Dennis and Leon?”
“My names are funnier. You have to admit, they look like triplets, with the matching crew cuts, bowling ball shaped heads, and arms bigger than my leg.”
“Wrestlers all look alike to me.”
“So what are we doing tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Bueller, what do you want to do on your day off?”
“That joke works better on Ferris.”
“I know, it’s good, hey? Because it’s actually his name. So it’s funny.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”
2
Eli
The rideshare driver doesn’t get out, just pops the trunk and leaves it to me. He does, however, watch impatiently in the side mirror as I struggle to lift the two heavy bags out.
“I’ve got it,” I say, not that he asked. I should have brought a trolley, but that wouldn’t exactly make for the best first impression, and I want this to go well. I need it to. I might be a legacy at Kappa Omicron Kappa, but that doesn’t guarantee me a place, just gets me in the door. A huge blue one that has the house letters stuck to the top in bright white. I close the trunk and heave one of the bags over my shoulder, pick up the suitcase by the handle and head for the door.
Do I knock? They should know I’m coming. It was all in the email. The first day of pledge-a-palooza starts with pledge orientation at nine o’clock. I’m early, it’s eight thirty, but I didn’t want to be late on my first day. First impressions matter. I wasn’t sure I wanted to pledge Kappa Omicron Kappa, and even less sure when my older brother John told me they get the pledges tomove in during rush to “Get to know them better.” My chances of getting accepted can only decline the more they get to know me and find out how little I am actually like the brother who scored me this legacy pledge.
The noise of the guys inside brings a swirl to my gut. Do I really want to do this? Do I really want to live in a house full of frat guys, who play sports and party and… what else do frat guys do? Fuck, this is a bad idea. I’m only doing this because John told me to. No, that’s a lie. He told me he found friends in this house he’ll have for the rest of his life. A sort of extended family, he called it. Only when these guys bail you out of campus jail, they don’t call your parents. Not that I plan on landing in trouble enough to see the campus police. How much trouble can a physics major get into in college, anyway?
