Page 15 of Frat Row

The week flew by. Since we visit fewer houses each day, the conversations were much longer, and I was running out of stuff to talk about.

The sisters seemed over it as well. When we reached the third day of rush, there were four houses we needed to visit.

On the fourth day, there were three houses.

Finally, on the fifth day, known as Preference Night, there were two house events to attend.

The attire was a black dress and black heels.

This was where we had the most intimate and lengthy conversation with one sister at a table, almost like a date, where you sit across from one another.

I headed home after preference night with one of my houses being Zeta Kappa Phi. I had a huge grin on my face knowing there was no possible way I wouldn’t get a bid from them to be a new member.

It’s Saturday morning, and I’m wearing my cutest scalloped Lilly Pulitzer shorts with a matching top and sneakers, sitting with Blair for coffee in the cafeteria.

“Are you nervous?” she asks me with a shaky breath.

“Blair, there’s nothing to be worried about! Zeta Kappa Phi is both in our top two, and best of all, we are legacies! We got this in the bag,” I tell her as I shrug my shoulders with a confident smile on my face.

“Come on, let's go get our bids!” I squeal as I jump with excitement on our way to the gymnasium, which is decorated with all of the crests of the different sororities.

A bid is a formal invitation to join a new sorority, complete with your full name, their crest, and motto. It’s legit and something you keep forever.

If you receive a phone call the night before, they try to break the bad news to you as best they can, letting you know you didn’t get a bid. This is to make sure you don’t show up the next day expecting one.

Imagine if they didn’t call. How fucked up would it be to show up and not have a bid while other girls around you are crying and screaming? I could never show my face again.

One of the girls on the executive board of Greek Life, who approves everything from events to homecoming and philanthropies, stands up with a megaphone and shouts, “Go!”

In a frenzy, we snatch our envelopes that are taped underneath our chairs and tear them open, and there it is in all its glory—my invitation.

I read over it twice because this is such a surreal moment.

At the very top in calligraphy, it states with infinite precision, “Cassidy Marie Matthews, you are cordially invited to become a new member of Zeta Kappa Phi,” with their crest at the top and signed by the current presiding president.

I spin my head over at Blair. We gawk at each other as we overlook each other’s invitations, confirming that we are both accepted into the same sorority. Staring at the invitations in disbelief, Blair whips out her phone and takes a selfie of us teary-eyed and happily laughing and hugging.

After taking the picture, it occurs to us to send it to our moms and post it all over our social media accounts, considering we can now reactivate them.

Now it’s time to ‘run’ home to Zeta Kappa Phi, hence the sneakers, where we will spend the day getting to know the sisters.

Blair and I take off, clasping hands the entire way to the sorority.

Several sisters are jumping up and down, holding signs with our names on them; the rest are swarming us ecstatically, welcoming us as new members.

The sisters holding the signs have volunteered to be our ‘buddy’ for the day and show us around to get us accustomed to how the sorority is run and introduce us to other sisters.

While being embraced by other sisters beaming at us like we just won the sorority lottery, I take notice of about thirty new members.

I spent the day having lunch in the house kitchen alongside all the sisters, learning some of the sorority chants and the overall history, which includes famous celebrities who are also Kappa Zeta Phi members.

Now, all there is to do is to make it to initiation in one month.

Previously, my mom told me they try not to haze because they don’t want anyone to drop out.

Most of the time, there are still mundane tasks you are required to do, such as carrying books to classes for your sisters or picking up their dry cleaning.

Quite honestly, being a new member of this sorority is the best in terms of hazing.

Rumor has it that another sorority has new members sit on the washer and dryers at the house entirely bare.

If part of your body jiggles, they circle it with a permanent marker, and you have to lose the weight before initiation, or they drop you.

After lounging and watching TV, I decide to call it a night before Blair, so I head back to our apartment. Classes start next week, so I’m excited to head back to our apartment and relax and hang out all weekend. While driving through the streets hazily, I daydream about becoming a sister.

Pulling into the parking lot, my phone suddenly pings, and a text message comes through.

Unknown: Congrats on becoming a new member of Zeta Kappa Phi! They obviously needed a new poster girl to recruit more members.

I look around the parking lot, confused and on high. Is someone watching me? I bite my lip, contemplating whether I should text back or not. I quickly try to think of who this could possibly be. Shaking my head, knowing I’m overreacting, I speedily type out a reply.

Me: Who is this?

Unknown: Your favorite one-night stand.

Rolling my eyes, I text back.

Me: How did you get my number? Something on your record you’d like to share?

Tyler: I am a certified stalker when it comes to you and I have more than a few connections.

Me: Well, I hope you got the fraternity you wanted.

Tyler: I did. You’re looking at a new member of Alpha Chi.

Me: Congrats to you, too, then.

Tyler: What are you doing tomorrow?

Me: I’m busy.

Tyler: What about tomorrow night?

Me: You’re never going to give up, are you?

Tyler: Nah. You should give in sooner rather than later. Kind of like how fast you spread your legs for me…

I laugh to myself silently.

Me: I’m available after 7:00.

Tyler: I’ll pick you up at 6:50.

Me: It’s not a date. I’ll be eating dinner beforehand.

Tyler: I’ll surprise you I’m going to skip dinner since I plan on feasting on your delicious pussy.

A tingly sensation runs through my body, thinking about the last time Tyler touched me.

He seems unpredictable in that area, and it is drawing me in.

After always being so routine-based and organized my entire life, it’s nice to let someone else take control and tell me what to do, especially in the bedroom.

A smile cracks my lips as I head up to my apartment. I grab a book I’ve been reading while I wait up for Blair. When she gets home, we chat about what we loved during our fun-filled day and then head for bed.

Sunday morning comes faster than I’d like, and I throw on some yoga pants with a matching sports bra. The only plans on my agenda for the day are running errands, picking up some last-minute school supplies, and catching up on laundry.

Tyler is at the forefront of my mind, and I can’t help how my body writhes, thinking about him touching me. Clenching my thighs together and straightening up, I focus on the task at hand—laundry. Aggravatingly, I throw load after load in and fold a tremendous amount.

Time seems to slowly creep by. After an internal battle with myself, I begin getting ready earlier than I should, while listening to some workout music to keep me up after a tiring day.

Around six o’clock, I recheck my makeup, essentially redoing it because I don’t like the colors I chose in contrast to my tanning skin. Then, I make sure every inch of my body is covered in lotion since I shaved everything.

Going to my closet, I lay out the lavender sundress I recently bought at Zara and pair it with some nude sandals.

As I try doing something with my thick hair, I decide to leave it loose, not wanting to bother with it any longer, reminding myself this isn’t a date, and I do not need to put much effort into my appearance.

Turning around in front of my floor-length mirror with a sly smile plastered on my face, knowing he’ll be the one doing any kind of begging.

Just like he promised, at exactly 6:50, there’s a loud knocking at my door. My heart is thundering in my chest as I take a deep breath and, as slowly as possible, walk over to the door.

Is this guy wearing me down? He’s already gotten under my skin.

Clutching my small, crossover Gucci bag and keys on the hook beside the door, I open it.

Wagging his brows with one hand on the side of the door, he looks me up and down and whistles.

“After tonight, you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me,” he says as he winks at me.

Warmth spreads between my thighs instantly because he’s right.

Standing in front of me with a Lululemon T-shirt and black jeans, he smells like I could swallow him right up.

I shake my head, knowing he clearly put minimal effort into himself tonight.

His muscular torso is outlined by the shirt, and the way the lightweight material wraps around his biceps has me biting my lip to keep the drool in my mouth.

“You’re one to talk; you haven’t stopped thinking about me since you first saw me.” I giggle with a knowing smile.

His eyes roam over me, and with a throaty whisper, he says, “Not only have I not stopped thinking about you, but I haven’t stopped fantasizing about your body in every position possible while tugging on those perky nipples with my teeth.”

My eyes widen, and my mouth drops open, trying but failing to mentally overpower his lewd remarks. Nothing comes to mind. Nothing.

Pushing my way out the door, my shoulder knocks into his side, and he smiles wickedly at me.

I slam my door shut and huff as I speed-walk to the parking lot, and he jogs up beside me.