“If Trent didn’t take the test for me, I would have failed the class.” I let out a frustrated groan. “Well, now it doesn’t matter because I got an incomplete on the test.”
Preston shakes his head. “We can’t afford to lose either of you this year. Get your shit together. Both of you.” He jumps up from the couch, his eyes focused on Jamie. “Tell Shannon to get over here, and let’s go. I’m hungry and not in the mood to deal with this shit right now.”
He’s so pissed he doesn’t even glance in my direction as he exits the living room.
Drake and Jamie push themselves up from the couch, neither of them happy with me.
“You guys complain about me not being on my A-game all the time,” Drake says, annoyed. “But I’m not the one who’s going to ruin our shot for the team.”
Jamie pats me on the back as he passes but doesn’t say a word. They’re disappointed in me, as I knew they would be, as they should be. I’d feel the same way if the situation were reversed.
Four
Jemma
Two days after humiliating myself in public, Shannon Brady, a pretty raven-haired girl who is in her senior year, escorts me through the Kappa Delta chapter house. I’ve had the tour several times already, but this time, she takes me to one of the bedrooms at the end of the hall. We step into the room, and she smiles, a set of pearly white teeth flashing.
“So, how do you like Strick U so far?” She sits on the bed, smoothing the cream colored comforter with her hand, gesturing for me to take my place next to her. “We haven’t had a chance to talk much since you accepted our bid.”
All of the pledges were assigned a Big Sister to hang out with for the day. Shannon is mine.
“I like it so far. I’m still getting used to the city and where everything is on campus.”
Dressed in tiny shorts that ride up her long, thin legs and a tight crop top that reveals a silver-and-diamond naval ring, she reminds me of a model, in a retro-chic kind of way. Her clothes look high fashion but have a grunge feel to them. It’s hard to place what era, or even what fashion inspired her attire, but I like her look. She’s stylish, a natural beauty, with long lashes and high cheekbones. When she’s standing at her full height, which must be at least five feet seven inches, she towers over me.
“So, Jemma, you’re a Walcott. I bet you grew up knowing you would become a Kappa.”
I shake my head. “No, not really. I never planned to transfer midway through college. This was a last minute sort of thing.”
She cocks her head in my direction, a curious look on her beautiful face. “Oh, really? Jordan never told us why you wanted to transfer. She just said you needed a change.”
“Yeah. It’s kind of boring where I’m from. I was sick of the same old thing.” While that might be true, I only say it to cover up the real reason I left Lancaster. “I’m sure you already know my dad owns Walcott Dairy. He expected me to help out when I could, but I don’t think I’m meant to live on a farm anymore.”
“I bet,” she says, not the least bit surprised.
To anyone who’s not accustomed to my former life, it sounds weird to them that I grew up on a farm. You could never tell with Jordan. She’s always acted more like a city girl, never interested in anything to do with our family business, where my older brothers couldn’t wait to take over for my dad.
“It must be cool to see your family’s name all over the milk cartons at the grocery store.”
I shrug. “I guess.”
I’ve never thought much of how our family makes a living. But when I tell people, they seem to think it’s a big deal.
Unlike the other girls in the house, who ooze wealth from head to toe, Shannon is more laid back, sort of casual and down-to-earth. I like her.
Shannon kicks off her shoes and slides along the bed until her back hits the headboard. She gets comfortable, leaving me at the edge of the bed.
“I’m dying to know what really brought you here,” she says as if she can tell I’m keeping something from her.
It’s not like I’m trying to be secretive. I have no problem telling her the reason I left Albright to attend Strickland University.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. Is this an interrogation, all part of becoming a sister? I have no idea, but I decide to be honest with her. “You want the truth?”
She nods, giving me a look that says she’s dying to know the answer. “Spill it, girl.”
“My boyfriend… well, actually, he’s my ex-boyfriend now, proposed to me after our sophomore year, and I completely froze when he asked me. I couldn’t move or breathe or even think to give him an answer. He told me I could take all the time I needed to think it over.”