Dirty Rush Read online

  “Cool?”

  “Yeah!” Meg said enthusiastically. I had no idea how to respond to this.

  “So what’s this about me rushing?” I asked instead.

  “Wait, you’re Taylor Bell, right? The girl with, like, a three-generation legacy?”

  “I guess that’s one way to describe me.”

  “Your sisters, Kelly and Jess, are fucking Beta Zeta legends. I never met Jess, but Kelly had the best tit-to-waist ratio I’ve ever seen. Yours isn’t bad either.”

  I looked down at my white dress and back up at Meg. “Thank you?”

  I was a little weirded out by Meg’s knowledge of my family’s history, but she was totally right. I was the fifth woman in my family to attend Central Delaware University. My grandmother, mom, and two sisters had all graduated from CDU and were all proud members of the Beta Zeta sorority. I was a legacy, I guess, but my decision to come to this school had nothing to do with a sorority. I’d been accepted to a bunch of great colleges besides CDU, but this was the only one that offered me a full academic scholarship, and the idea of having zero student loans to pay off when I graduated was just too good to pass up. So, ironically, here I was, following in the collegiate footsteps of basically all the women in my entire family. At a fucking frat party.

  Meg pushed our way through a line in the kitchen and started pumping a keg. “So you’re definitely rushing. You’d be retarded not to. God, I’m sorry for saying ‘retarded’ so much. I know I’m not supposed to say that word. I mean, for all I know you have a very retarded cousin or something. But, like, it’s the most accurate way to describe something that’s actually retarded, you know? Like this party. And the thought of you not rushing a sorority you can clearly get into and pull serious rank.”

  “Rank?”

  “Yes, retard. Rank.” Meg handed me a beer.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.

  “Look, you obvi didn’t hear this from me, but if you rush Beta Zeta, not only will you get a bid in, like, five seconds, but you’ll basically be able to do and say whatever you want. Colette will have no choice but to be nice to you, which is not easy for her. And besides, you’re super fucking cute and you look smart but not in an annoying way.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. “And Colette is who, exactly?”

  “Oh, Colette Winter’s basically the unofficial boss bitch of the Beta Zeta chapter here at CDU. She doesn’t hold a title, but everyone listens to her anyway. She can be a cunty fucking whore sometimes, but I get it. That’s how it works in sororities—you’ll see. Presidents do paperwork and go to meetings, Colette gets shit done and makes girls cry in public.”

  “Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” I said half-kidding.

  Meg looked at me as if I’d just said something to her in Mandarin, before responding with a loud, “Exactly!”

  I took a sip of my beer and looked around the party. There was a boy drunkenly trying to break-dance on the kitchen floor, alone. He was shirtless but appeared to be wearing some sort of boobie-tassels over his nipples.

  “No offense, but all of this isn’t really for me. I think it’s sweet that you guys would want me to join, but I’m not my grandma or my mom or my sisters. I’m not really sure that, um, Greek life is my scene.”

  “Then what is your scene? Because at present, it’s a frat party.”

  “The truth is, I kind of just came here to see a guy, who I think I’m gonna go try and find now. Thanks for the beer, though.”

  I had walked away from Meg and back into the throngs of bodies dancing when I started to notice just how sweaty everyone at this party was. I’m not a big fan of sweat, sweaty strangers, or plumes of pot smoke blown into my face, so I decided to remove myself from the dance floor pronto and check out the rest of the house and maybe (hopefully) run into Jack again. I spotted a tight, dark hallway that seemed to lead to a rear living room, and headed in that direction, pulling my bag closer to me because it was so packed in there. My phone was buzzing. I managed to pull it out and saw that I had three texts from Jonah, my best friend from high school who was also now a freshman at CDU. We didn’t exactly plan on following identical academic trajectories, but we’d done almost everything together in high school, so it made sense. Most of our friends from home thought that we’d end up getting married, but most of our friends also still thought Jonah was straight.

  Jonah 10:15PM Where r u? I’m bored.

  Jonah 10:16PM My roommate keeps farting in our room and not saying anything. So awk

  Jonah 10: 29PM where are u??????

  Shit. Fuck. Shit. I’d totally flaked on Jonah. We were supposed to hang out, and then I decided to take up a virtually random frat guy on his invite instead.

  Taylor 10:30PM Are u sitting down?

  Jonah 10:31PM Yes

  Taylor 10:31PM I’m at a frat party. U wanna come?

  Jonah 10:32PM Are you ok? Is this a joke? What happened to getting wasted and watching Rosemary’s Baby?

  Taylor 10:34PM I ♥ you. But this is just as fun and scary as Rosemary’s. So just come.

  Jonah 10:37PM I hate you. Where is it?

  Taylor 10:37PM Omega Sig

  Jonah 10:38PM As if I know where that is

  Jonah 10:38PM Address?

  I sent him a pin of where I was, shoved my phone back into my bag, and continued to push through the packed hallway. My plan to snoop around was thwarted when I walked into the living room and realized I was going to have to somehow avoid getting roped into playing Twister with a group of bikini-clad, slutty-looking freshman girls and some fraternity dudes. I had no idea people still played Twister. One of the frat guys waved at me to join in. Fortunately, a girl’s tit fell out of her top as she was reaching for a green dot, which distracted him, allowing me to snake back out of the living room past a group of kids bonging beers. I wondered whether the girls had brought their own bikinis or if the frat had provided them. On closer inspection, I noticed that the bikini bottoms were stamped with OMEGA SIGMA across the ass. Wow. That answered that question.

  I walked into a quiet, dimly lit hallway that was surprisingly not crowded. Then, out of nowhere, I heard something very loud and very fast coming toward me. I quickly threw myself backward against the wall and hoped for the best. A beat-up shopping cart crammed with dudes came flying past me, stopped short, and launched its passengers into an inflatable kiddie pool filled with Jell-O in the kitchen. A crowd surrounding the pool exploded in excitement.

  Was this a real party, or a movie about a frat party? I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. It also occurred to me that wearing a white dress had been a huge mistake. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I spotted an exit sign at the end of the hallway and started running toward it, hoping for a good, clean escape. But as the door swung open and I stepped out of the house I saw Meg and a hot, model-y–looking guy standing right in front of me, making out. Meg noticed me and freaked.

  “Taylor! Do not tell me you’re actually trying to leave.”

  “Ummmmm . . .”

  “You’re not even tipsy!”

  “Okay.”

  Meg pulled a small flask out of her Michael Kors Monogram clutch, took a shot from it, and offered it up to me.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Tequila, lime juice, and homemade Adderall solution. It’s my secret recipe. Go ahead, you’ll like it.”

  “Text me,” said the model-y guy.

  “Shut up, Mark. Can’t you see I’m fucking busy?” said Meg.

  I took a small sip. It wasn’t horrible.

  “See? Now come the fuck on, you didn’t think this was the actual party, did you?”

  I guess I wasn’t going home quite yet . . .

  After walking back into the house and weaving through a labyrinth of hallways and strange, packed bedrooms, Meg and I arrived at a closed green door.

  “You ready?” she asked slyly, taking another swig from her flask and handing it back to me. I took another, slight
ly bigger, sip.

  “Not really.”

  She pushed the door open and we walked down a long spiral staircase with cold stone walls on either side. As we descended, I heard girls laughing and the thumping bass of that Kendrick Lamar song every white person I know is obsessed with. We walked into a room full of scantily clad bodies. Some of them were dancing, some of them were sitting at tables playing cards and drinking. This crowd was much more attractive than the rest of the party upstairs. It was like I’d been upgraded from coach to first class.

  “Meg!!” two identical girls screamed in unison. They were both in jeans and tank tops and they were coming right for us.

  “Ladies! You look amazing!” Meg screamed back at them. The music was insanely loud. “This is Taylor Bell, Kelly’s sister. Third-generation legacy, and honestly, how fucking cute is she?!”

  “Love it!” said one of the twins. I hadn’t realized it until I was standing next to them, but they were both so tall.

  “I’m Stephanie and this is Olivia, we’re twins. Obviously,” said the other as they both laughed. I went in for a handshake, but both of them just looked at me, confused. It was weird.

  “So, Asher texted me two hours ago and said he was probably coming,” Stephanie said, smiling. “Then I texted him back ‘Can’t wait to see you’ with a smiley face, and now he just has his little thought bubble there. It’s been like that for at least an hour. Is this, like, a power move? Should I just kill myself?” She made a pouty face.

  For some reason, her question made me laugh really hard, which made them all start laughing. Their closeness was kind of charming.

  “As you can see, Steph is an actual insane person,” Olivia said, putting her arm around her sister. “Have fun tonight and ask us any questions you want. We’re good girls, we promise!”

  “Nice meeting you guys,” I said to the twins as they turned and danced their way across the room.

  “Okay,” Meg said, grabbing me again by the elbow and walking me through the room. “Those are our twins. They come as a package. Steph’s not a slut but she loves to fuck, so that would explain this Asher person she mentioned—always a new guy with her—very liberated when it comes to the sex. Olivia is the brains of the operation. She’s literally a genius. She had the idea for Facebook before Facebook was even invented. She was six. I’m not even joking.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing—”

  “And that over there is Colette. You want her to think you’re pretty and you want to be friends with her. She was basically your sister’s bestie last year. They co-chaired our biggest annual event with the children’s hospital. It was amazing. Babe Walker did the keynote speech, Diplo deejayed, and a lot of cancer kids lived because of them. I’m sure she’ll love you.”

  We slowly walked toward a very tall, very thin girl who had her back to us. She was wearing a cropped sweater with a short skirt and suede ankle boots and had the shiniest hair I’d ever seen, tied up in a tight ponytail. She must’ve sensed our presence, because as we got a little closer she turned around to face us.

  “You must be Kelly’s skinnier, prettier sister,” Colette said, staring right at me. “Just kidding.” She smiled.

  It hit me immediately that I’d seen this girl once in the Beta Zeta house when I was visiting Kelly. She was unforgettable.

  “Um . . .” I was speechless. Colette was one of those girls who knew that she was gorgeous and loved it. I was in awe. Her Chloé perfume was intoxicating.

  Luckily Meg chimed in, “Yup, this is Taylor, Kelly’s little sister. The new face of Beta Zeta.”

  “Is that so?” Colette raised an eyebrow. This girl had obviously spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting her bitch face.

  “Well, I don’t know if I’m going to rush yet. I’m still figuring it out.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. This school is boring as fuck if you’re not Greek,” said Colette.

  “Totally,” added a very excited Meg. “Beta Zeta is the main reason I came to this school. We’re good girls, and honestly, once you’re a sister, you’re kinda set for life. But you already know that, Taylor. You’re a purebred, babe!” She turned to Colette, who was making eyes with a linebacker-looking guy across the room.

  “How is your sister, by the way?” Colette asked, seeming very uninterested.

  “She’s great. Still in Zambia, interning away.”

  “Oh . . . right.” Colette seemed confused. “That’s great,” she continued, “good for her.”

  “Yeah. I’m really impressed by the work they’re doing out there,” I offered.

  “Well, this all sounds amazing, but would you guys excuse me for just a second?” Colette asked as she gave us each a limp hug before walking over to the baby-faced bodybuilder in a trucker hat. Someone tapped on my shoulder.

  “Looks like you made it into the cool kids’ club.”

  It was Jack, looking a little more disheveled but no less hot.

  “Is that what this is?” I was so happy that he’d found me, but did my best to hide it.

  “I walked around with your beer for about ten minutes looking for you, but I see you’ve already been adopted by the one and only Meg Landry. What’s up, Meg?” he said, pulling Meg in for a bear hug and kissing her on the cheek.

  “Jack and I bonded freshman year over a joint appreciation for Fleetwood Mac and Miller High Life, didn’t we, Jacko?” Meg said, taking a sip of a vodka rocks that she’d managed to grab somewhere.

  “That is technically a true statement,” Jack said, looking at me. “Although I don’t like to publicize the fact that I wanna bone Stevie Nicks. So, thanks for that, Megs.”

  God. He was beyond cute. His smile was so disarming and genuine. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to lay around in bed with Jack all day, drink some beers, and let “Landslide” play on repeat.

  “Jack!!!” The sound of a shrieking voice coming from behind me snapped me out of my daydream. I felt two hands shove me from behind. Hard.

  I lost my footing and went flying past Jack and Meg, crashed through several full drinks that spilled all over me, and then snagged my foot on some wires that were apparently connected to the speakers, abruptly cutting the music and silencing the room as I careened face-first into two nasty old couch cushions. I saw darkness and smelled a nauseating mixture of sweat, mildew, and farts. I didn’t lift my head, but I could feel that everyone in that basement was looking at me.

  FML.

  2.

  TONIGHT’S CHOICES, TOMORROW’S FACEBOOK POSTS

  Get up, Taylor, I thought to myself. Stand up and tell everyone that you’re okay and immediately get the fuck out of here, then move to a different continent.

  “Shit,” I said as I lifted my head from the couch, directly into view of a girl straddling a guy’s crotch. Oh God. I’d landed directly next to Sabrina, the girl from upstairs who’d had all the abortion scares, and her boyfriend.

  “Are you okay?” Sabrina asked, dismounting her boyfriend and pulling down her skirt.

  “I . . . I’m fine,” I lied. I’d never been less fine. I stood up and dusted myself off, taking in the fact that the entire party had come to a halt. Almost everyone in the room was staring at me and snickering. I scanned the room for Jack. He was in a corner talking to some girl I didn’t recognize. It was immediately and unavoidably clear from their body language that they had definitely seen each other naked. Wait. What the fuck was going on? Why had he flirted with me in class and invited me to his house if he was already with somebody? Would he really be into a drunk girl in a denim miniskirt and plastic flip-flops? I was fuming and embarrassed, but I had to hide it. Really, I just wanted to die.

  Allow me to introduce myself: Taylor Bell, the naive college freshman who just made a total ass of herself at her first frat party.

  My dress was totally ruined, covered in brown stains and reddish liquid. Both of my knees were scraped and bloody, my whole body was pounding. A waterfall of tears was trying to push its w
ay out from behind my eyeballs. How was I going to walk through the party and back to my dorm in this state? I would never be able to live this down. And all because I wanted to get closer to Jack.

  “Okay! We’re clearly over this!” I heard a voice say, as Meg steered me away from the couch and toward the back of the room. Unfortunately, that meant we had to walk past Jack and Random Girl. He looked at me with a pout and mouthed Are you okay? before walking away with the girl.

  I was not okay.

  Meg speedily led me to the quietest corner of the room.

  “Babe. Are you okayyyyy?” Meg sang/pleaded, looking me up and down.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “But . . . you’re bleeding.”

  “I know that!” I snapped. Then, off her shocked expression, “I’m sorry, I should really go. Is there a side entrance or a back door I can sneak out of? I really don’t want to walk through that party looking like—”

  “Noooooo. No, no, no, no. Absolutely not.”

  “No, I should really go,” I told her. “Thanks for everything. Tonight was actually fun, until whatever that was . . . happened. Have a good time.”

  “Are you sure? The night’s just getting started,” Meg pled.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just . . . I don’t know.”

  “What? You can tell me.”

  “It’s nothing, I just . . . I came here tonight because Jack invited me. We have a class together. I thought he liked me and now I feel like a total idiot.”

  “Jack? Oh, babe. No, no, no. I will not have you sitting in bed with bloody knees, watching Netflix, and crying about a boy on a Thursday night. No. That’s not an option.” Meg put her drink up to my mouth, forcing a big gulp.

  “I don’t even know who pushed me,” I said.

  “I hate to say this,” Meg said, putting her hand in mine, “but it’s that girl Jack’s talking to right now. I think they went to high school together or something.”