Greek: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 7) Read online

  “We are the girls of KKB,

  We are the ones you came to see.

  Looking for the life of the party?

  Look no further than KKB!

  Sisterhood through and through,

  Scholarship and athletics, too.

  If you want fun and sisters true,

  KKB is the house for you!”

  I SCREAM THE WORDS to our door chant loud and proud with my sisters, and then to a roar of applause from the potential new members waiting outside the door, we all scurry to our spots in the hallway, lining up in perfect order to receive the girls.

  I’ve done this three times before now — once on the outside and twice on the inside — and every time, my stomach fills with butterflies. But this time, those butterflies seem to be flying with wet wings, slow and sad.

  Because it’s my last rush week.

  Ever.

  A thick knot forms in my throat at the thought, the same kind that blocked my breath when I clung to Adam in the Boston airport two weeks ago. Saying goodbye to him after spending half the summer with our families, and the other half getting him set up in his new apartment, and with his new job which felt impossible.

  Just like saying goodbye to Kappa Kappa Beta does now.

  Change…

  I’m no stranger to it, and yet I’ve never been hit with so much at once. It felt like a dream, getting my acceptance email from Johns Hopkins, and now here I am just four months from graduating and leaving this sorority and this university behind me.

  Tears well in my eyes, and I look up at the ceiling and fan myself to keep them from falling. I’m about to match up with a girl I’m supposed to convince to rush KKB, not run away thinking we’re all a bunch of emotional weirdos.

  Hands grab my arms as I’m still staring at the ceiling, and when I drop my gaze, I find Skyler smiling at me with tears of her own.

  “I want to hug you so fucking bad right now,” she says. “But if I do, we’ll both lose it and ruin our makeup and chase the poor new girls away.”

  I bark out a laugh, swiping the lone tear that escapes from my cheek before it can mar my makeup. “This is it,” I whisper.

  Skyler nods, her bottom lip trembling, but then she quickly shakes her head and blows out a breath as the Recruitment Chair hollers back that the doors are opening.

  “We can cry later. For now, plaster on that smile I love so much and find us some new sisters.”

  I smile and nod, and with a kiss to my cheek, she releases me and makes her way to the front of the hall to greet the girls.

  As the president.

  My stomach roils a bit at the tradition I’m breaking, the one that has been around longer than I can even wrap my head around. Every girl in our line has been president for years and years, but that ends with Skyler.

  Or maybe, it just skips a generation.

  Maybe I won’t be president, but with my sights set on finding a Little, I find myself smiling at the thought that maybe, one day, she could be.

  When the doors finally open, it’s pure madness. Music blasts from our speakers, all my sisters clapping in sync to the beat as we file toward the door. When we get there, we’re matched up with a girl rushing, the line-up planned by our Exec Board. They review the girls each night before and select who they think would be the best match to talk to the potential new member. It’s all a dance, a beautiful, coordinated dance of courting.

  If only dating were so lovely.

  When I’m a few girls away from picking up my own match, I spot a potential new member on the other side.

  Chewing her fingernails down to the nubs.

  Her slicked-black hair is styled in two adorable space buns, a pair of oversized glasses slipping down her nose before she pushes them up and goes right back to chewing her thumb nail. She’s wearing the cutest romper I’ve ever seen, navy blue with a white and yellow floral design and a small gap showing the pale skin between her breasts and her belly button. It takes confidence to put on an outfit like that, and yet she looks like she’s ready to bolt at any second.

  She doesn’t look up at me when it’s our turn, not until I step halfway out of the house and extend my hand for hers.

  “Hi!” I say cheerily. “I’m Cassie. Welcome to KKB. I know it’s a little loud right now, let’s go inside and find somewhere we can talk.”

  Her eyes are a cloudy river, blue and green swirling together inside an iris lined with a thick, navy blue rim. They stun me so much I have a hard time not gasping and commenting on them right away. Instead, I hold out my arm for her to link with mine, and she does so hesitantly before following me back down the hallway.

  I’m supposed to lead her to a corner in the main dining room, where we’ll scream over the rest of the conversations happening in the house and strain to hear one another. But I’m already hoarse from the day before, and I can tell just by looking at her that this girl would appreciate some quiet. So, I lead her upstairs and back to my room.

  “Whew,” I say when we’re inside, leaving the door open so we can still hear everything going on downstairs. “It’s a little crazy out there, huh?”

  She nods emphatically, her eyes growing a bit wider as she folds her hands in front of her waist.

  “Sorry, it’s kind of a mess up here,” I say, looking around at the rogue hair extensions and makeup and clothing tossed this way and that. “During Rush, we open up our rooms to everyone — even if they don’t live in the house. And with seventy-six of us getting ready every morning, there’s not much time to clean up after.”

  She smiles. “This is your room?”

  I nod. “It is. I have a roommate, Lindsey, who rushed last semester. She’s really sweet. And my Big is the president, the one who greeted you before you came in. Her room is right down the hall.”

  The girl’s eyes go wide. “Wow. That’s so cool.”

  I smile. “What’s your name?”

  “Tera,” she says. “Tera Rosebaum.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tera. I’m Cassie, in case you couldn’t hear me downstairs. How’s Rush going so far?” I grab my desk chair and pull it over to Lindsey’s, sliding that one out for Tera to have a seat.

  She hesitates at first, but when she finally sits down, I don’t miss the relief she feels to no longer be standing in her wedges. “It’s… going.”

  I laugh. “Kind of overwhelming, isn’t it?”

  “That’s an understatement,” she says, wincing a little as she rolls her ankles. “To be honest… I kind of feel out of my element here. All the hair and makeup, the dresses, the heels, the screaming, the music… it’s a lot.”

  I nod, remembering all too well how it felt to be on that side of it. “I had those same thoughts when I rushed. I remember thinking to myself that I was among a bunch of walking, talking Barbies.”

  “Oh, my God. That’s exactly what it is!”

  “Like how did all these girls learn how to do makeup like this?”

  “I can barely keep up with mascara and lip gloss.”

  “You should see me try to contour. Hideous. Like a clown.”

  Tera giggles, relaxing a little more in her seat. “How did you get over that initial discomfort?”

  I sigh, looking to the side as I try to recall who I’d been at that time in my life. It feels so long ago now that it takes a lot of effort.

  “Well, for me, it took meeting the right girls. Some of the houses I went to, I could just tell I wouldn’t fit in. It was nothing against them, I just didn’t feel that connection, that spark, you know? But when I came to KKB, I met a girl named Erin.” I smile at the memory. “I didn’t know it then, but one day, she’d be my GrandBig.”

  “Your what?”

  I chuckle. “It’s kind of like your family within the family of the sisterhood as a whole. After you Rush, a girl in our sorority will pick you for her Little, and you have to pick her for your Big, in return. Then you’re part of a line. So, Erin was my Big’s Big.”

  “Makes my head spin.”<
br />
  Another laugh from me. “We can get into it later. But yeah, for me, meeting her, and then a few other girls in this sorority… I just felt like I was home. I was torn, actually, on the night before bid day, and I talked to a girl down by the reflection pond who helped me pick. Come to find out, she was a KKB sister, too.” I paused. “And she became my Big.”

  Tera smiles, but then the light goes out in her eyes, gaze falling to her shoes. “What if you don’t fit in anywhere?”

  I tilt my head. “Is that how you feel?”

  She nods. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not like the girl who has no friends. I have a lot, actually.” She pauses. “Had. Back home. But I don’t know, I’m… different. I like anime, and romance books, and video games and cosplay.” She clears her throat, smoothing her hands over the shorts of her romper. “And look at me. I look like I ate three of your sisters before I came in here.”

  My heart lurches into my throat, and I instantly want to reach for her, to pet her arm and say she’s gorgeous, and that her size was the last thing I noticed about her. But I can tell just from this small interaction that Tera doesn’t trust easily, doesn’t open easily, and I want her to feel safe with me — not like I pity her, especially since from what I can see, there’s nothing to pity.

  She’s a badass. I can sense it.

  “Cosplay, huh?” I decide on. “What exactly does that mean?”

  She laughs uncomfortably, grabbing the back of her neck. “It’s really nerdy.”

  “Stop that. I bet it’s cool if you love it so much.”

  She shrugs. “I mean, I think it’s cool.”

  “And you have a whole slew of friends who do, too, right?”

  She nods. “We dress up like our favorite characters from movies, or books, or video games or shows.”

  “Wow! Like, costumes?”

  “Yes, but way more intense. I mean, especially for conventions and stuff, we go all out. I’m talking chopping our hair off, or growing it out for years to get a specific look, spending thousands of dollars on fabric and supplies to make our costumes.”

  “So you’re not just buying them online or something?”

  “God, no,” she says, brows furrowing with the offense.

  I chuckle. “Sounds like I have a lot to learn. Do you have any pictures of you dressed up?”

  Tera bites her lip, like she’s deciding if she can trust me, but in the end, she pulls out her phone and taps until there’s an image so striking it makes me gasp.

  I grab the phone out of her hand, pulling it closer and zooming in to inspect the intricate design of the fire-engine red costume. It’s skin-tight, leather-like and hugging every curve she has. Paired with the badass thigh-high boots and her bright red hair — which I can’t tell if it’s is a wig or her actual hair dyed that color — she looks like a completely different person.

  “Bitch!” I say without thinking, but she laughs, so I take it as permission. “Get out of here with that I can’t do makeup shit. Look at you! This is incredible!”

  “I was Asuka Langley Soryu. She’s an anime character.”

  “She’s iconic,” I correct, handing her phone back to her. “And so are you.”

  The smile she’s wearing now is her most genuine once since she walked in the room, but with a shout from below and a music cue, I know it’s time to start walking her out.

  I sigh, standing. “There’s never enough time during these things.”

  “It’s time to go already?”

  “Afraid so,” I answer as she stands to join me. “But I really hope I’ll see you back here tomorrow. I’d love to get to know you better.”

  She smiles, her mesmerizing eyes flicking back and forth between mine. “I’d like that, too.”

  We link arms and walk downstairs, chatting a little until the music is too loud to do much other than smile and wave goodbye.

  And when the doors shut, my sisters excitedly filling into the kitchen for lunch, I run around the house until I find Skyler, nearly toppling into her once I finally do.

  “Whoa, whoa!” she says, catching my arms as we both find our balance. She laughs. “Slow down there, killer.”

  “I think I just met my Little.”

  Her mouth pops open at that, and her eyes search mine for a moment before her lips meet again and spread into a knowing smile.

  “Tell me everything.”

  I’M USED TO THE way lonely feels.

  Growing up, I was an outcast, a nerd, the girl who hung out with her poor family and didn’t have more than a handful of friends — if you could even call them that. When I wasn’t playing poker with my parents, I was studying or coloring or listening to music in my room. Sometimes I would ride my bike around town by myself, just listening to the wind breezing through my hair.

  When I came to Palm South, all that changed.

  With a snap of my fingers, I altered that past and became a new me — the me I’d always felt like I was inside. I embraced my sass, my courage, my fearlessness and channeled it into being the girl I’d always known was simmering there under the surface.

  With my sisters in Kappa Kappa Beta always around, and practically every boy on Greek Row begging for my time, I never had another lonely day.

  Until this summer.

  How I could have lived in such a blissful heaven for a full year only to tumble down from the clouds and slam into the dirt is beyond me.

  Kip felt like the safest, most sure thing in the world.

  Now, I don’t know him at all.

  The Kip I love wouldn’t have forgotten our one-year anniversary, or the date he’d planned. The Kip I love wouldn’t have had his hands on another girl’s hips while she was naked in a shower, whether it was for work or not. The Kip I love would have listened to me, would have understood my anger and hurt.

  And more than anything, the Kip I know would have found a way to make it right.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t try, I suppose. He called. He texted. He came by the house. When I finally did decide I was ready to see him and hear him out, he apologized.

  But not for what he did.

  For how he’d made me feel.

  It was a monstrous slap to the face. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” as if I was being irrational, as if he still stood firm in his delusion that he was right and I was wrong. I knew I wasn’t a saint. I knew I could have handled that situation better than I did.

  But he couldn’t even see it, couldn’t see Natalia for the games she played, couldn’t see how him putting her and the show before our anniversary killed me.

  The show about our love.

  How ironic.

  He went right back to filming, editing, producing — like everything was fine. It wasn’t until he showed up one evening and tried to kiss me and I pulled away that I think he realized a simple apology wasn’t going to be enough.

  “I need some time,” I’d told him. “And some space.”

  I could close my eyes now and still see the hurt in his eyes, the deflation of his shoulders, could still feel the way his lips pressed against my temple at the same time one lone tear slipped down my cheek.

  That was the last time I saw him, almost two months ago.

  I threw myself into recruitment, into my last semester as president, into making damn sure I leave this sorority in even better shape than I found it. Spending time with the girls helped, too, and now that we’re in the thick of Rush week, I’m distracted.

  Distracted, but lonely.

  Even in a house full of my sisters.

  Even at night when Cassie and I curl up in my bed and talk and laugh and reminisce.

  Every minute I’m awake, every second I’m alive — I’m lonely.

  Because my other half, that person who completed me and made me feel whole for the first time in my life is gone.

  And I don’t know if I’ll ever have that piece of me again.

  “Sky,” a voice says, shaking me from my haze as I filter through the profile bind
ers of the potential new members coming through the house tonight. It’s the last night before we make our bids and hope they pick us for their top choice, in return.

  I turn in my chair, finding Ava, our recruitment chair, with an apologetic grimace on her beautiful face.

  “Sorry to bother,” she says instantly. “But, um… you have a visitor.”

  I frown. “Is it one of the other presidents?”

  “It’s Kip.”

  All the blood drains from my face, my stomach roiling violently.

  I clear my throat. “Be right down.”

  She nods, her eyes sympathetic as she closes the door and leaves me alone.

  I take a moment to check my reflection in the mirror, smoothing my hands over my elegant, short black dress. It’s a halter top with thin straps and a body that hugs all my slim curves. My favorite accent is the slit that accents my toned thigh, and the strappy high heels I paired with it. My hair is pulled back in a delicate braid, my makeup applied to perfection, natural and light, but with enough precision to stun.

  Pref night is perhaps the most important of all of Rush week. It’s our final chance to convince the girls we want that this should be their home for the next four years.

  It’s also the most emotional night for the seniors, as they realize their time here is coming to an end, and a new chapter is beginning.

  Without them.

  I blow out a soft breath, succumbing to numbness as my feet carry me blindly down the hall, the stairs, and out to the front porch where Kip is leaning against one of the tall columns, his hands in his pockets, eyes on the cement ground.

  When he lifts those cerulean blue pools and locks his gaze on mine, my bones lock up, stopping me mid-stride a good four feet away from him.

  My skin heats as he drags his gaze down the length of me, and he shakes his head slightly as he pushes off the banister to stand tall. “Sky… Jesus,” he breathes, running a hand over his scruff. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”

  Everything in me wants to melt.

  I want to swoon, to run to him, to fold myself into his arms and press my lips to his.

  But my heart refuses, making me cross my arms and clear my throat, instead. “Thank you,” I say flatly. “Do you need something? I’m kind of busy.”