attracted men like flies.
She waved me inside her apartment. She wore the sweet expression that Lance saw when he looked at her. Her warm, dulcet voice I’d heard before at the ‘get to know’ you meetings and open sorority pledge events.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“No, thank you.” The Philly pizza steak I’d eaten for lunch that afternoon threatened to rise up out of my stomach.
The room was quiet. No loud music from freshman neighbors or sounds of passing cars and ambulances headed down Chestnut street towards University Hospital. One of the advantages of living off-campus.
Sherrie walked to the far end of the room and gestured towards the sofa and chair. Against the beige walls was a large mahogany bookcase, full of textbooks, strategically placed knickknacks and picture frames. On the wall were two black and white photos of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan skyline. I knew that the photographer’s initials were on the back. Lance had asked for my help in picking them out at the photography exhibit.
“Leah, have a seat.” She gracefully seated herself in the side chair. I took a seat opposite her on the sofa. I sat on the edge and crossed my legs. My eyes focused on the arrangement of fresh flowers that graced the coffee table.
I reached out and touched the orchids. As a part of the sorority pledging process, one of us would have to deliver orchids to Sherrie once a week. I’d always wanted to keep the beautiful blossoms instead of handing them over into Sherrie’s perfectly manicured fingers.
“You made us walk into Center City in the middle of winter to get these,” I said.
“That’s water under the bridge.” She waved her manicured hand dismissively. Sherrie continued, “It was part of pledging. Besides we were reprimanded.”
I leaned forward and inhaled the sweet perfume of the flowers before glancing over at her, meeting those wary eyes. She would never acknowledge that she’d gone too far those weeks we struggled through the sorority pledging process.
“I can’t believe you’re still holding a grudge,” she said.
It had been two years since I’d had to watch her take a pair of scissors and hack off Allison’s hair. I’d seen Sherrie’s face that night. It was full of vengeful triumph as she held Allison’s curly locks in her hand. I suppressed a shudder.
“I’m not holding a grudge, I’m holding a memory.”
It could have been me, but it hadn’t been. Sherrie had picked the weakest of my line sisters. Allison’s mother had been an AKA. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to join. That desire for acceptance and her long wavy hair had been all Sherrie had needed.
“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” she said with a confident look on her face. Like she’d scored some huge point.
“Look, I called you over here tonight so that we can make a fresh start. I want us to be friends,” she smiled.
Sherrie almost had me with that smooth line about forgiveness, but the look of triumph on her face killed any thought of being friendly with the woman.
I said, as evenly as I could, “You want to be friends?”
“Does that surprise you?”
The question was so ludicrous that I simply looked at her for a second or two. It took me two tries before I could find an answer. “Yeah, I’m surprised.”
“We’ve never really taken the time to get to know one another. We’re going to be graduating soon and I don’t want to pass up the opportunity. You and I have so many things in common.”
The light bulb went off. “I get it. This is about Lance.”
Her face was an open book. The way her lips pressed together into a thin line showed her annoyance.
“Look, Leah,” she sighed. “I’ll admit that Lance would love it if we were cool and I’d like for us to be friends.”
She sat back and crossed her legs expectantly, waiting for my reply. A queen on her throne. Somehow the woman made her statement sound more like an order than a
She waved me inside her apartment. She wore the sweet expression that Lance saw when he looked at her. Her warm, dulcet voice I’d heard before at the ‘get to know’ you meetings and open sorority pledge events.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“No, thank you.” The Philly pizza steak I’d eaten for lunch that afternoon threatened to rise up out of my stomach.
The room was quiet. No loud music from freshman neighbors or sounds of passing cars and ambulances headed down Chestnut street towards University Hospital. One of the advantages of living off-campus.
Sherrie walked to the far end of the room and gestured towards the sofa and chair. Against the beige walls was a large mahogany bookcase, full of textbooks, strategically placed knickknacks and picture frames. On the wall were two black and white photos of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan skyline. I knew that the photographer’s initials were on the back. Lance had asked for my help in picking them out at the photography exhibit.
“Leah, have a seat.” She gracefully seated herself in the side chair. I took a seat opposite her on the sofa. I sat on the edge and crossed my legs. My eyes focused on the arrangement of fresh flowers that graced the coffee table.
I reached out and touched the orchids. As a part of the sorority pledging process, one of us would have to deliver orchids to Sherrie once a week. I’d always wanted to keep the beautiful blossoms instead of handing them over into Sherrie’s perfectly manicured fingers.
“You made us walk into Center City in the middle of winter to get these,” I said.
“That’s water under the bridge.” She waved her manicured hand dismissively. Sherrie continued, “It was part of pledging. Besides we were reprimanded.”
I leaned forward and inhaled the sweet perfume of the flowers before glancing over at her, meeting those wary eyes. She would never acknowledge that she’d gone too far those weeks we struggled through the sorority pledging process.
“I can’t believe you’re still holding a grudge,” she said.
It had been two years since I’d had to watch her take a pair of scissors and hack off Allison’s hair. I’d seen Sherrie’s face that night. It was full of vengeful triumph as she held Allison’s curly locks in her hand. I suppressed a shudder.
“I’m not holding a grudge, I’m holding a memory.”
It could have been me, but it hadn’t been. Sherrie had picked the weakest of my line sisters. Allison’s mother had been an AKA. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to join. That desire for acceptance and her long wavy hair had been all Sherrie had needed.
“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” she said with a confident look on her face. Like she’d scored some huge point.
“Look, I called you over here tonight so that we can make a fresh start. I want us to be friends,” she smiled.
Sherrie almost had me with that smooth line about forgiveness, but the look of triumph on her face killed any thought of being friendly with the woman.
I said, as evenly as I could, “You want to be friends?”
“Does that surprise you?”
The question was so ludicrous that I simply looked at her for a second or two. It took me two tries before I could find an answer. “Yeah, I’m surprised.”
“We’ve never really taken the time to get to know one another. We’re going to be graduating soon and I don’t want to pass up the opportunity. You and I have so many things in common.”
The light bulb went off. “I get it. This is about Lance.”
Her face was an open book. The way her lips pressed together into a thin line showed her annoyance.
“Look, Leah,” she sighed. “I’ll admit that Lance would love it if we were cool and I’d like for us to be friends.”
She sat back and crossed her legs expectantly, waiting for my reply. A queen on her throne. Somehow the woman made her statement sound more like an order than a