Page 8

Chapter Eight

Jemma

S taring in the mirror, I hug my stomach, feeling exposed. “This is not a dress,” I tell Jordan. “How can you wear this in public? Why do you even own this?”

She laughs, coming up behind me in a barely there Kelly green dress that hugs her curves. “Lighten up already, Jem. Remember why you’re at Strick U. This year is all about having fun, hooking up with cute guys, and getting out of your comfort zone.”

“Why can’t I wear something that covers my ass?”

Jordan chuckles, even though I don’t find it funny. She glances at my backside and slaps it, causing me to jump forward.

I laugh, now rubbing my hurt cheek. “What was that for?”

She shrugs, appraising my clothes in the mirror.

“Trying to take your mind off everything. Seriously, sis, you are stressing me out.” Jordan clutches my shoulder and then spins me around so we’re facing.

“Please don’t act like this in front of the other girls or the frat guys who will be there.

They will sniff out your fear and go in for the kill. ”

I shake my head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hey, at least my plan to distract you is working.”

Jordan fixes her hair in the mirror. She applies a shiny gloss coat over the red lipstick and presses her lips together.

“It’s bad enough we have to kiss strangers for money.”

She rolls her eyes at me in the mirror and scoffs.

“Jem, this is what college is all about. Or what this sorority is all about. Do you have to do a few embarrassing things to become one of us? Yes, but it’s worth it.

Trust me. And today is all about raising money for an amazing organization.

Think of all the good this money will do. ”

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Okay, I guess you’re right. This is all so new to me.”

She chuckles. “Our lives back home were boring. That’s why everything with you and Corey worked out the way it did. Right?”

I nod. “I suppose so.”

“You told Corey you would give this a chance so you could tell him if the break-up was permanent. The only way you will know is to have fun and meet a few cute guys along the way.”

Jordan points at the bed. “Sit down. I need to finish your makeup.”

With a bit of hesitation, I do as she says.

I came to this school to experience new things, through fresh eyes, and with new people.

If I don’t try this, I will never be fully ready to consider Corey’s proposal or a life with him.

He wanted me to do this just as much as I wanted this for myself.

I wasn’t ready to become his wife. I wanted to scream and run for the hills when he asked me.

I am unprepared for a family, not when my life hasn’t begun.

Jordan adds layers of eyeshadow and mascara, followed by lipstick and gloss. I feel like her very own Barbie doll. The girls in the chapter house have more makeup combined than Macy’s cosmetics department. There’s always an emphasis on style and fashion, two things the girls value most.

When I glance in the mirror again, I don’t recognize myself. “Wow,” I mutter, stunned by my appearance.

“I know, right?” Jordan takes one last look at her handiwork. “You look so hot, Jem. The guys at this event will be all over you, begging for a kiss.”

Do I want that? I do if Trent is one of them. The gorgeous blond has occupied many of my dirty thoughts this past week. And I’m hoping he comes to collect his kiss.

T he Quad overflows with brightly colored tents packed with food, games, and merchandise to help raise money for various charities.

Every sorority, fraternity, and social club on campus is in attendance, everyone wanting to win the Excellence in Philanthropy Award, which usually goes to Kappa Delta.

Abby clarified that we have a reputation to uphold, but I think it’s more for bragging rights than other sororities.

We’re always competing with someone for some trophy or award or even for the right to attend certain parties. I’ve never met so many competitive girls, all of whom look like fashion models with perfectly manicured nails and unblemished faces.

The kissing booth isn’t the usual one-person wooden box. With fifteen girls in our pledge class, we must work in shifts, rotating every thirty minutes. Thank God Abby said we only have to kiss the guys on the lips. Still, I’m not thrilled about touching who knows how many guys.

Corey was my first boyfriend, my first everything. We were friends before we became lovers, inseparable since we were in middle school. Sometimes, I get the itch to call him, mostly because I wonder what he will think.

Other than my sister, Corey was my best friend, my confidante.

It’s hard not to miss that part of our relationship when he was a factor in most of my life.

He would have a stroke if he knew how much I’ve changed since moving to Philadelphia.

It’s good that we have a no-contact policy until I go home for Thanksgiving break.

Then, I have to decide about us. Either we get back together, or I let him go for good. It’s only fair.

Zoe hooks her arm through mine, her body trembling. Some of her blonde hair brushes my shoulder, the scent of her citrus shampoo filling my nostrils. “I’m so nervous I could puke.” She bites her bottom lip, staring at the crowd with a look of fear on her face.

“I wish I had a Xanax to take the edge off.”

“I don’t want to do this either,” I confess. “But at least it’s for a good cause.”

I would mind less if Trent were here , I want to add, but keep my mouth shut about him. He’s my dirty little secret, one I would like to keep private, especially after Shannon warned me to avoid a player like him.

“Y’all worry too much,” Riley says, crossing her arms across her chest and pushing out her breasts. “This will be a breeze. You have to kiss a few frogs before you meet your prince, am I right?” She chuckles to herself, but Zoe and I are too eager to join in her laughter.

“That’s easy for you to say, beauty queen,” Zoe says in a condescending tone, though she’s not serious about anything other than the beauty queen part. “You’re used to getting up on the stage and having everyone stare at you in a bathing suit. You like showing off your body.”

Riley flicks her dark hair over her right shoulder and shrugs. “I’ve just had more practice. That’s all. Once you get used to it, there’s nothing to it.”

Shannon, my Big Sister, approaches my side and tells the girls, “Mind if I borrow Jemma for a second?” She steers me away from the girls and says, “You look super freaked out, Jem.” Shannon flashes a smile so wide it reaches her blue eyes, but it doesn’t help to quell my nerves.

“I had to do this when I was a freshman. It’s not as bad as you think. ”

“I’m okay,” I lie. “Just a little tired.”

The last part is true. I have slept little since I accepted my bid, and the closer we get to the end of the semester, I’m counting the days until we become full-fledged sisters. This will all be worth it. I know it deep down in my bones.

“Shannon squeezes my shoulder and gives me a hint of a smile. “If you need me, give me a shout.”

“Thanks, Shan.”

“What are Big Sisters for?”

I fake her enthusiasm and then head back to where Zoe and Riley await their turns for the kissing booth.

A timer goes off, signifying our turn to switch places with the girls in the booth.

Somewhat startled, Zoe jumps, and Riley chuckles.

Zoe brushes it off as if nothing happened, and then she gets in line behind the two girls in front of us.

We shuffle into the large wooden box and step toward the counter, where hundreds of eyes stare back at us.

Shannon, Abby, and Jordan coordinate the group of eager boys. They collect money from them as they walk down the single-file lines forming in front of us.

My heart won’t stop racing, my pulse quickening as I look at the crowd.

The adrenaline courses through my veins.

I clear the lump at the back of my throat and hope I don’t puke on one of them.

It’s not until I blink the sun from my eyes and focus on the boys’ faces that I feel a sudden wave of calm wash over me.

Trent runs a hand through his blond hair. He’s so perfect I can’t stand it. Even his hair is perfect. The cute dimple I’ve grown to love creases his tanned cheek. And when he approaches the booth, I just about squeal with delight.

Resting my palms on the wooden ledge, I lean forward. Trent meets me halfway, our mouths inches apart.

“Did you come to claim your kiss?” I ask him.

He smirks. “You bet your sweet ass I did.”