Authors: Stephanie Hale
“Really?” I can’t imagine self-assured, Alpha president, Lindsay being homesick.
“Yep, and I was eighteen, not sixteen,” she says, stopping my heart. I meet her eyes and she smiles.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” A million thoughts are rushing through my mind. The biggest one was wondering if the Alphas were going to kick me out of the sorority.
“It’s okay. I probably wouldn’t have told either.”
“Are you going to kick me out of the sorority?” I ask, holding my breath.
“And cut loose the only child prodigy on campus? No way.” She laughs.
“What about the sisters?”
“You can tell them when you’re ready.”
She gets to her feet and pulls me up. I feel lighter just knowing that I have one less secret to hide.
Lindsay helps me find Schroder (which is actually pronounced Schrater, just to trip up frogs like me) Auditorium. I can’t believe it when I see three hundred other people seated and waiting for the instructor to pass out the syllabus.
Lindsay also reminded me that there are no bells in college, so technically, I’m late. She also reminded me that in college no one really cares if you come to class. This is going to take some getting used to.
I slide into the top row trying to bring as little attention to myself as possible.
Someone passes me a crisp, white syllabus and I run my palm over it lovingly. I’m finally back in my element. The professor tells us that we aren’t babies anymore and can read through it on our own time then immediately starts lecturing. I retrieve a notebook from my bag along with a number two pencil. I flip open the notebook and breathe in the scent of the fresh paper. The familiarity of these supplies has an almost Zen-like effect on me.
“I put your panties in a very special place,” a voice whispers in my ear. I push my pencil down so hard that the lead breaks. So much for Zen. I look over into Charlie’s dimpled, smiling face.
“I almost stabbed you,” I bluff, tossing the broken pencil into my bag and retrieving a fresh one. I can’t help but notice the number two pencil tucked behind Charlie’s ear. I really want to ask him if he derives the same amount of satisfaction as I do watching his pencil waste away over the semester from all his hard work, but I don’t.
“You’re awfully hardcore, Grace Kelly.” He laughs, flipping open his notebook to a page filled with the three steps of free radical halogenation. I can’t help but be jealous of his neatly drawn diagrams with their perfectly straight labels. Even if I had taken the time to work ahead, mine never would have turned out that good.
“Pay attention,” he teases, focusing his attention back to the professor. I try, but he smells so good, even better than my notebook. As our professor describes the initiation phase, I can’t help but picture Charlie and I as the two free radicals spinning around each other, just waiting for a reaction to initiate things. I guess I could just lean over and kiss him. You can’t get much more reactive than that.
I notice Charlie flipping to a blank page of his notebook. He jots something down then slides it over my direction and bumps my shoulder with his. I try to ignore the sparks that are popping under my sleeve where he touched me. His paper says, ‘Wanna study tonight?’ I nearly knock my own notebook off in shock. Organic Chemistry, Charlie, and me? Could there be a better threesome? I get ready to scribble down an eager ‘Yes’, when I remember that I have to be at the Alpha house tonight. Bummer. I write ‘Busy’ but offer him a smile. He cocks his head to one side examining me then turns his attention back to the professor.
As much as I love learning about molecules and their complex relationships, my mind keeps floating back to the sisters and my relationship with them. Lindsay was so cool about my age. I wonder if I could tell her the truth about Edwina Fay and she would understand? I want to be honest with the sisters but I can’t stand the thought of being kicked out of the sorority. I just can’t take the chance of telling them I lied about being a legacy.
“A dollar for your thoughts,” Charlie says, holding out a crisp one-dollar bill.
“Huh? What?” I ask, noticing that everyone around us is already standing up and collecting their stuff. I can’t believe I completely spaced out during my first lecture.
“You just looked so deep out there that I didn’t think a penny would get me much.” He laughs easily then jams the money back into his cargo shorts.
“I guess I’m still adjusting to college.” I slip my notebook into my bag and carefully tuck my pencil into a side pocket.
“That pin looks good on you,” Charlie says, admiring my Alpha pledge pin. I reach up to my collar and spin the smooth gold pin between my fingers. I wonder if I will ever get used to being an Alpha? Maybe I shouldn’t until all of my tasks are completed.
“Thanks,” I say nervously, just remembering the bombshell Jentry laid on me the other night about Charlie getting in trouble for dating me. The last thing I want to do is stop our flirtation, if that’s what it is, but I also don’t want Charlie getting into trouble.
“See ya around,” he says casually, hopping over me. He exits the auditorium, his tanned muscular legs taking the steps two at a time. Sigh. That’s one free radical I’d love to collide with.
****
A few days have passed but the memory of Charlie’s legs bounding from the auditorium haven’t.
“What am I going to do?” I ask Jentry, while emailing my paper for English class to my instructor. If only my situation with Charlie was as easy as my assignments have been so far.
Jentry is sitting cross-legged on her bed bent over her Psychology book like it is the most fascinating thing she has ever read. She has a pile of neon-colored highlighters next to her and every so often she will grab a specific color and highlight her text. I’ve never understood how outlining words in a different color helps people learn better, but to each his own I guess. She is concentrating so hard that she doesn’t even hear me. I decide to leave her alone and boot up my laptop.
I pull up the Omega website just so that I can see Charlie’s picture. In the picture he is sitting on the roof of the frat house proudly sporting the horseshoe-looking symbol for Omega on his bare chest. I used to think that girls who spent all their time drooling over guys were just lower on the evolutionary food chain than normal people, but now I kind of get it. Blowing Charlie off is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I thought about just telling him the truth and letting him decide for himself, but I figure the less people who know about my age, the better. I successfully dodged him yesterday in chem. lab but it wasn’t easy. Thankfully our lecture is in the auditorium so it will be much easier to hide from him.
My computer chimes that I have a new email so I toggle off the Omega website to my email program. The highlighted sender’s name is Anonymous. In the subject field it says, ‘H, D, and S’. I click on the email to open it and all it says is ‘third floor library, Wednesday, eight pm’. Thank goodness I have two days to rest. I never realized how much the tasks, classes, and all the extra curriculars for the sorority would take out of me. Not to mention the extra time I have to spend on my hair, makeup, and clothes now. But I guess it is a small price to pay to be an Alpha.
I delete the top-secret task email and move on to the next one, which is from Sean. There is no subject. When I double click to open it, my screen fills up with a picture of me kissing Aimee. In giant bold letters underneath it says, ’12 hours left’. I really thought Sean was kidding about the blackmail. Like I don’t have enough to worry about.
“Who took that?” Jentry shrieks from behind me.
“That would be my disgusting troll of a little brother,” I admit, spinning around in my chair to face her.
She puts her hands over her mouth in horror but her eyes are laughing. “That midget is truly diabolical. You better give him what he wants.” She laughs.
I avert my eyes and get very busy straightening the pens sitting in my plastic Alpha cup.
“Oh, no. Why do I have the feeling that I’m part of his little scheme?” She asks.
“He would never show Mom,” I say, knowing that my voice doesn’t sound believable even to myself.
“But if he did…” she trails off. “What does he want?” She sighs.
“Naked pictures…of you.” I tell her, disgusted. How Sean and I came from the same gene pool is beyond me.
“I’m not doing nude for anybody but Playboy, but I’ll give him a couple of shots of me in my bikini. That should tide him over,” she says, moving toward her dresser.
“You really don’t have to do this. I mean, you’ve done so much for me already.” I plead, feeling horribly guilty.
“I do have to do this. I can’t imagine being here without you,” she grins, slipping into her bikini. “Let’s do this,” she says, handing me her digital camera.
I am going to owe her so big for this.
****
It’s Wednesday morning and I am skulking around the edges of the auditorium looking for Charlie. Luckily I’m here before he is, so I choose a seat in the farthest corner away from where we normally sit. I tuck my hair into the ball cap I borrowed from Jentry and hunker down into my seat. I know I should just talk to him but I don’t think I could look him in the eyes and tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore. I figure if I blow him off long enough, he’ll lose interest.
I peek over my shoulder to see Charlie at the top of the auditorium looking around. He shrugs and takes a seat in our normal row. He tucks his hair behind his ear while removing a notebook from his backpack. I’m glad I’m sitting down because just that simple gesture practically makes me swoon.
I flip open my notebook determined to give my full attention to Professor Pike. Between my Alpha tasks, keeping Mom off my back, Sean’s blackmail, and just keeping up with this new look, which requires way more maintenance than I ever would have thought possible, I don’t have time for a boyfriend. I’m not even going to think about Charlie anymore. Satisfied with my decision I write today’s date at the top of a fresh notebook page and ready myself to soak up some new chemistry knowledge.
“How many elements are in the periodic table?” Professor Pike’s voice booms over the auditorium.
“One hundred seventeen,” several voices yell out. I grip the edge of my desktop to resist the urge to scream out. Surely someone else in this room knows that element one hundred eighteen, while it hasn’t existed for more than a few milliseconds, does exist after being created by American and Russian scientists.
“Come on, people,” Professor Pike grumbles, obviously disgusted. I swear I could almost hear crickets chirping outside, the auditorium is so quiet. I squirm around in my seat restlessly. A girl next to me eyeballs me probably afraid I’m about to have an accident. I can’t help it though. It is physically painful not to answer Professor Pike’s question. How can no one know this? Do these people not have
www.dailyscience.com
bookmarked? The word is just about to escape my lips when I hear someone else yell something out.
A garbled answer echoes through the otherwise silent auditorium.
“Was that English?” Professor Pike responds.
“Ununoctium is the one hundred and eighteenth element,” Charlie yells out, unclenching the pencil in his teeth.
I don’t hear how Professor Pike responds to Charlie’s correct answer because I have melted into a puddle of girl drool in my chair.
****
Later than night, I’m sitting alone at a table on the third floor of the library engrossed in my American Government text when I hear several ‘psst’s’. I look up to see three of my sorority sisters peeking around the corner gesturing me to follow them into a restroom. I slam the fat textbook closed, shove it in my backpack, and sneak off to find out what my next tasks are.
I knock quietly on the restroom door and someone pulls me into the dark bathroom. A dead bolt locks behind me then the lights are flipped on. These girls aren’t playing around.
“We’ve been wronged and we need your help,” Jessica says, escorting me to have a seat on a closed toilet seat in the handicapped stall.
“He told us we were stupid,” Mari says furiously. I don’t know who they are talking about and I don’t know Mari very well, but I heard her spouting baseball statistics the other day, and anybody with a mind for memorization like that is far from stupid.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“Dean Stone,” Allison finally pipes up, her cheeks flushing just saying his name.
“The dean of this college, Dean Stone?” I ask, hoping I’m confused.
“He’s a pompous ass and we hate him. He is always insinuating that the Alphas are a bunch of airheads,” Jessica rants.
“He actually pulled me out of an advanced statistics class because he felt it would be over my head,” Mari adds distractedly while pulling on the end of the roll of toilet paper.
“We need you to humiliate him the same way he has humiliated us,” Allison tells me.
“But he’s the dean. The dean of the college,” I say stupidly. “What could I possibly do to humiliate him?”
All three smile wickedly at me as they start to whisper their master plan.
****
“Booth for one please,” I tell the perky hostess at the campus sports bar/restaurant. A banner above me tells me that tonight is ten-cent buffalo wing night, which explains the mounds of discarded chicken bones in the middle of most of the packed tables.
“We don’t have any booths left, but I can get you a seat at the bar,” she tells me sweetly, her eyes zeroing in on my Alpha pledge pin.
I smile at her, realizing that I’ll be less obvious sitting at a crowded bar than in a booth by myself anyway. She gestures toward the bar and I head that way. Without being too obvious, I try to scan the room for Dean Stone. I still can’t get over that he is so lame he would hang out all night at a campus sports bar to play trivia. But when I spot him hunched over his royal blue controller, his eyes locked to one of the thirty flat screens hanging from the ceiling, ignoring his barbeque ribs and onion rings. It’s pretty obvious that the girls weren’t kidding when they said he took his unofficial title as ‘Best Trivia Player Ever’ very seriously. I slide onto the bar stool practically giddy about stealing his title away from him.