Save Me, Sinners

“And as soon as we’re done with the bake sale, you're practically guaranteed to get in. You know that?”

“But —”

“No buts!” she declares and takes my shoulders in her hands so that I can't get away. She stares right into the middle of me with her deep black eyes, so dark I'm practically pinned to the spot.

“Kita, we all believe in you. Out of all the rushes, you're the best one. You're my personal favorite—did you know that?”

I shake my head. Am I really?

“Yes, you silly thing! Actually, everybody's rooting for you. But you gotta do good today, okay? Just do whatever needs to be done, sweetie, and then you will be one of us. Won’t that be great?”

“Yeah.”

She narrows her eyes at me and wrinkles her nose in exaggerated disapproval. “I can't hear you!”

On cue, I give her my cheerleader smile, the one that so wide it makes my upper lip feel like it's going to crack. “Yeah!” I practically yell.

“That's my girl!” she hoots, then shoves me toward the doorway. “Okay, see you in the minibus!”

She releases one shoulder and slaps me on the butt cheek as I leave her room. It stings, but I don't let her know.

The rest of the sorority house is in chaos. At least a dozen of us are all dressed up in black and pink, our house colors, rushing to the minibus before the house mother leaves without us. I just keep my arms clapped over my naked belly and hunch in one of the back rows, trying to keep warm as the cold vinyl of the seat chafes against my legs.

All around me are clones of Lizzie and Claudia, clapping and chanting our songs, apparently unbothered by the brisk September air. Every time one of them happens to glance my way, I make sure my smile is as hard as concrete. Just keep smiling, that's the trick.

When we get to the Crow Bar, there is a black and pink banner stretched over the entrance, fluttering in the breeze. Welcome to the Chi Rho Pi Bake Sale! It's painted with cartoonish hearts and extra exclamation points that glow in the black lights that pulse on and off.

The minibus pulls up in front of the entrance and as we file out, the bouncer pulls the velvet rope aside for us. Huge and broad as a pillar, he stands there nearly exploding from his tight, white T-shirt and shiny, black-washed jeans. He looks each of us over with dark eyes that slide a grueling trail from top to bottom. There's something lizard-like about the way he looks me over, like he's licking me with his eyes.

Glancing behind him, I see the people waiting to get in. It's mostly men — actually I guess it's all men? — and they press forward, peering at us with undisguised interest. There’s at least forty of them there, from frat boy age on up, leaning against the rope like carnivores at the zoo. Instinctively, I flinch back to the safety of my group.

I feel a hand circle around my elbow and almost pull away defensively before I realize it's Lizzie. She tugs me closer, and for a second I'm grateful to be under someone else's care. Feeling so many sets of eyes on me is making me feel even more naked than I am.

“Oh, you're going to do so good!” she hisses in my ear as she jams something plastic against my ribs. “Here, drink this. It'll get you started off right.”

I take what she's handing me and hold it up against the neon glare of the bar signs. It glows faintly blue and I guess it's a bottle of some kind of energy drink, but it looks like she's already opened it.

“No, I'm okay…” I mumble and try to shove it back toward her as the bouncer herds us into the darkened dance club.

“It's for charity,” she reminds me again, raising her voice against the pulsing bass of the dance music, her eyes narrow and dangerous.

I don't even understand what she's talking about. But at this point, can I really afford to just piss her off over an energy drink? As I cross the threshold, I pop the top off and take a long swig, smiling like it's delicious and then I hand it right back to her. The bitterness curdles on the back of my tongue but then my mouth is coated in a film of sugar. She wrinkles her nose at me in approval and nods.

“That's a good girl. Your place is over there. Now, break a leg!”

“Break a what?”

Claudia swoops over to my other side, boxing me in. “You ready, Kita?”

Suddenly, I don't really feel like I’m ready for anything. I look around the room and realize it's nearly empty. The bouncer must have been holding back the customers until we got here. There's a large, empty dance floor with three raised platforms arranged in a triangle with about ten feet between them. On each platform is a barstool.

Lizzie and Claudia start to guide me toward the closest platform. Out of the corner of my eye I see the other two pledges being led to the other two barstools. One of them looks nervous and keeps flipping her long, honey-colored hair over her shoulder and giggling. The other one, Serena, just looks pissed.

What I don't see is any kind of cakes, cookies, or even a candy bar. This is supposed to be a bake sale. What are we selling?

“Claudia, I don't know what I'm supposed to do?” I confide, leaning toward her as she guides me toward the stool. She just rolls her eyes.

“Just smile, cupcake,” she snickers. “You'll figure it out in a minute!”