TWO
Mila
Upon arriving at Pine Mountain,I immediately get lost. All the tall stone buildings and winding, leafy pathways look the same. Eventually, I find my way to the freshman orientation appointment.
I’m given stacks and stacks of brochures. I’m accosted by every sorority on campus.
And I’m feeling increasingly uncomfortable the longer I take in the sea of college students in their muted tones that range in looks from bookish to sporty.
I’m about to pass by a booth advertising Beta Beta something—I don’t know, they all look alike now—when something clicks.
A sign reads: “All plus size girls stop here.”
Uhh…should I be offended by that?
Examining the young woman’s face who’s staring back at me from this booth, I find myself unable to be mad.
She chirps and holds out her hand. “I’m Leela, the president of the world’s first-ever plus-size sorority. You might have heard of us.”
“No,” I say, trying to get away, but she’s not letting go of my hand.
“Perfect! Then you should definitely pledge for us during rush week. You will fit right in!”
I look the girl over. She’s wearing a sweater set and pearls and a pastel headband. Her makeup is subtle but expensive. I thought college kids ran around in sweats and hoodies, not clothes from Nordstrom Rack. She’s definitely somebody’s princess. Probably not in the mob, but someone for sure has money in her family. But even so, there’s something fierce behind all that sweetness. I can see it in her sharp, perfectly made-up eyes.
This Leela is a force of nature.
I look down at my zebra print leggings, denim jacket, tee-shirt that reads, “Jersey Girls Don’t Pump Gas,” black gel nails with the rhinestones, and I know it’s more than my lack of book smarts preventing me from blending.
I give her hand a squeeze. “Fit right in, huh? I’ll think about it.”