Greek (Palm South University)

I’m still wearing that goofy smile as I type back a response.

“Girlfriend?” Giselle asks.

“The best one on the planet.”

When I finish the text and look at her, she’s wearing a smile laced with a million things she won’t say. “Glad you found her before you found this place,” she decides on, popping another bite in her mouth. “Because you damn sure wouldn’t have found the time or energy to date if you’d come here first.”

I’m not sure if I should laugh or ask her if she needs someone to talk to, but I don’t get the chance before there’s a knock on the door panel of the break room, and my boss peeks his head in.

“Sorry to bother during lunch, but can I get your eyes on this website?”

I nod, gathering my things. “I’m finished, anyway.”

“Great. See you in my office.”

He ducks out, and once I’ve cleared the table, I nod to Giselle. “Nice talking to you. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.”

She holds her fork up to me with a wink, and there’s something in her eyes still, like she’s assessing every move I make, every word I say.

I can still feel her watching me even when I’m down the hall and out of sight.

“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.