Greek: Best Frenemies (9 page)

“The robots are your paper?”

“The robots would make interesting graphic additions to my paper if I could have decent pictures of them working, or at least looking like they're working. And color pictures wow older people with poor eyesight and kill space on the page of a very long paper. Which I have to write.”

“Or?”

“Or I'll flunk philosophy, have to take a credit over the summer to graduate and be dumped by your sister again. So the stakes are astronomically high.”

“For you.”

“And for you, sadly, if you want to put up with one upset biological sibling and a moody Big-Brother-in-Fraternity.” He put a hand on Rusty's shoulder. “I only ask these things of you because I believe in you. And because you'll probably do them even if I don't and drive us all crazy anyway. It's the Zen of Rusty Cartwright.”

“I don't think
Zen
is the right word.”

“Okay, confession time. I came quite close to flunking Asian religions freshman year. My Big Brother, Egyptian Joe, got me through it.”

“By helping you with an extra-credit problem?”

“No, he got the answers for the final exam because he was sleeping with the TA. Something I'm not going to ask of you. I don't think Alex Izmaylov is your type.”

The next morning, Casey was late to class after over-sleeping
, a consequence of a long night of staring at the ceiling and wondering what she was doing and what she should do. Ashleigh, having said her piece, slept like the dead. The girl could sleep through the house burning down, though hopefully neither the house would burn down in retaliation nor would Ashleigh sleep through it. Although the prospect of fire and death did put things into perspective, at least for a little while, before Casey went back to being frustrated and obsessed with Rebecca becoming sweetheart.

When Casey was nominated sweetheart, it was a very different experience. The nomination process was the most nerve-wracking as they sat and waited for Omega Chi to come to the house. Then Evan arrived and gave her the rose while the others serenaded her, and it was like a fairy tale coming true.

She had gone on to win the title with dignity, not crass dis
plays of popularity or bribery. That was the key to everything, at least last year. It was how a sweetheart acted.

Halfway through the liberal arts class she wasn't paying much attention to, she realized there was someone she needed to speak to before confronting Rebecca. Someone who knew a heck of a lot about picking sweethearts, maybe more than anyone. But she couldn't go to his house, because that might be misconstrued, even if she wasn't campaigning. Fortunately, she knew he would be at the Panhellenic Council meeting that afternoon.

There was no discussion or even mention of the sweetheart competition during the meeting. Even though Katherine, the president of the Panhellenic Council, openly despised ridiculous and what she deemed demeaning acts performed by sororities, she had a stake in the contest like almost everyone else in the room, excluding the other fraternities. She was a Gamma Psi, and her sorority sister Natalie was a front- runner for sweetheart. She knew all about discretion, so it never came up, not even in a passing, passive-aggressive comment, which Casey thought was an impressive display of fortitude on Katherine's part. Instead, the topics were fundraising, not all of them related to rebuilding the Gamma Psi house. The sorority was hoping to break ground before graduation. In the meantime, the university was making promises to place all the Gamma Psis in their own section of one of the upperclassmen dorms the following semester. The normal issues were raised with community service and how no one was doing enough of it or finding creative ways to do it that were more than just working at a soup kitchen. Everything had to be “dynamic,” such as mentoring kids and working with the disabled, though Casey didn't see precisely how those were
dynamic. The Inter-Fraternity Council just nodded their heads and came up with some lame excuses as to why they were behind on their community service and what they would do to make it up, and the meeting was called.

Casey caught up with Evan in the elevator. “Can we talk?”

“Is it about the sweetheart competition?”

“Kind of. But in a good way. Well, not necessarily good, but not in a promotional or campaigning way.” She smiled. “Trust me?”

He smiled hesitantly. “Okay.” Instead of at the lobby, they got off at the second floor, where there was a student lounge designated for use by social activist societies. Years ago the Marxists had taken it over, so the walls were mostly filled with posters on dowels about workers' rights. Unfortunately, the Marxist Union was far less organized than concerned about the rights of university workers, so the room was always empty and there were plenty of suspiciously unwashed couches to sit on.

“I can't tell you about Rebecca's standing, but you already know that,” Evan said to Casey. Their relationship as friends had been a shaky one since their disastrous breakup last year, but now that she was dating Cappie again, Casey wasn't sure where she stood. Nonetheless he seemed open to at least the discussion. “Can we at least agree that things have gotten crazy this year?”

“I was just going to say that! What is wrong with everyone?”

Evan smirked. “I'll distribute the blame equally. We haven't exactly made it a policy to turn away the gift baskets. So what's up?”

“Okay, can what we say here, like, totally stay here, forever and ever?”

“I'm bad at those sorts of promises, but since we're not, er, medicated this time, maybe I'll be better at keeping it,” Evan said. The last time Casey and Evan really bonded, it was during dry weekend, when they were supposed to be chaperones for the different houses. Unfortunately (or fortunately) at one of the first houses, they were served what they didn't know were “special” brownies and wound up in the bathtub at ZBZ, surrounded by candles and spilling everything that maybe shouldn't have been said and some things that should have. “Let me guess. Rebecca doesn't want to be sweetheart.”

“Not that I was— Yes! How did you know?”

“A feeling.” But his voice and expression indicated that it was more than a feeling. Maybe Rebecca had confessed something to him, something she hadn't trusted Casey with or felt comfortable discussing with Casey. “A good feeling, it turns out. Not that I'm shocked.”

“But she should want it!”

“Should?”

“She has to want to be sweetheart. It's sort of the principle of the thing.”

“Not technically,” Evan said. “The principle of the sweetheart competition is that we pick a girl we think is sweet and throw a gala in her honor. Or that's how it's supposed to work. I guess in the days before feminism, the blushing girl wouldn't dream of saying no, and there weren't such forward bribes for our votes. We pick a girl, we honor her. That's all that's on the books.”

“And it doesn't matter if she's unwilling?”

He shrugged. “I suspect our esteemed founders saw no reason why she would say no.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Our esteemed founders also lived in a time when women looked forward to push-button microwave ovens and vacuum cleaners to free up their afternoons for white wine and romance novels. And that you should wear a tie everywhere you go.” Evan was, in fact, wearing a tie. “The last part isn't too bad.”

“You do look good in a tie.”

“Thank you,” he said. “The point is, things have changed, the contest has changed. And the houses have changed. It's a house-status thing now. Did you know we could originally nominate multiple girls in one sorority and none from another? Especially if it was an ethnically mixed sorority.” He shrugged. “I had to memorize a lot of Omega Chi history when I was a pledge. Not all of it is pretty, or maybe it just reflects the times they lived in. The point is, the way we have it now, it's supposed to be fair to everyone, in that we nominate a girl per sorority, even if there's a sorority where there are no girls we like.”

“Making it even more political.”

“Especially since you guys started ranking your sororities in social standing and having contests to prove it instead of just avoiding each other and each house separately considering itself superior all the time. In a way, you control the contest more than we do.” He leaned back, accidentally knocking over a papier-mâché Che Guevara head, which he set back up on its altar on the table with an awkward grin. “So, Rebecca.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“She's been avoiding me.”

“Well, as long as we're keeping everything we say to this room—”

“Yes.”

“Between you, me and the bodiless Cuban revolutionary, I did speak to Rebecca on this subject.”

Casey perked up. “What did she say?”

“In answer to the direct question? She's not sure. Or, she wasn't when I spoke to her, and that was all she was willing to admit. This is big for her, and not just because of ZBZ. Political campaigns, they have all these connotations for her, because of her father. And because she doesn't like anyone making decisions for her. I mean, I even try suggesting the name of a movie to see and she has to come up with an alternate one, I think for the sake of it.”

“How did you respond?”

“I told her that people were depending on her, so she should come to a decision, and she sounded annoyed that she was being walked all over by the pledge committee or whatever you have going at ZBZ. She seems to think it's degrading.”

Casey swallowed. Evan had no reason to lie. He did have a reason to look out for Rebecca, though. “And?”

“And I reminded her that there were three other girls who really, really wanted it, and that if she dropped out, she would eventually be forgiven. Maybe not right away, but you'd find another contest to focus on. No offense.”

“None taken.” And it was certainly true. It would be disappointing, but no one would dare bring it up in front of Rebecca. And if she did drop out instead of losing, she could no doubt find a very good reason for it and get the sisters behind her. Even if she claimed she wanted nothing to do with
politics, she was very good at leading people. If nothing else, last year's presidential elections had proved that. “So…”

“So talk to Rebecca. And put it into perspective that it is not a huge deal, or it shouldn't be. We let it get out of hand.”

“But you're not going to stop the competition.”

“Of course not. It's a sacred tradition, but it shouldn't define someone. I'm not shutting it down, and I don't think I would have the support within the house even if I tried, but I wouldn't object to taking it down a notch. And I don't think the brothers would object, either.”

“Yeah, we definitely need to calm down. And I need to talk to Rebecca.”

Even nodded. “I agree.” He rocked the head of Che back and forth. “But you might have better luck with the Cuban Revolutionary Army.”

 

Confronting Rebecca was no mean feat, so Casey was a little relieved when she couldn't immediately find her, delaying the conversation just a little bit longer. Some of the sisters were at class, but those who were around were busying themselves writing cards, arranging gift baskets or complaining to poor Dale the hasher about the coloring of his latest batch of cookies. None of them knew where Rebecca was.

“How could she abandon us?” Abby said, only half joking. “I mean, if she's at class that's one thing—or maybe she's following some Omega Chis around?”

“I'm sure she's…doing whatever is appropriate for a sweetheart to do,” Casey said in Rebecca's defense.

After a thorough search of the house, Casey decided to give up, at least for the moment, and entered her room. She
jumped at seeing not Ashleigh on Ashleigh's bed but Rebecca, a chemistry book in her lap.

“You scream, you die. You know I can make it happen,” Rebecca said, and Casey nodded and shut the door. “I was using the student center but this pledge found me. I can't have peace and quiet anywhere.”

“Except in my room?”

“Unless you're going to talk to me about being sweetheart. Which it looks like you are. I wonder if they keep those old sewage tunnels under the administration building open.” She closed her book and leaped up to leave, but Casey put a hand up to stop her.

“Look, I just want to talk to you, in some kind of meaningful fashion. And I need to apologize.”

“For completely ignoring both my opinion and my dignity? Or for letting pledges run my life in your all-consuming quest to not remain a lame sorority.”

“That. And, other things. Mostly the not listening to you part.” She sat down on her own bed, and fortunately, Rebecca followed, sitting across from her but looking very skeptical. Then again, she always looked like that. “I know this competition has gotten completely out of control. Which is not entirely my fault—”

“You did cover up our burning down the Gamma Psi house, earning them the pity vote.”

“And you actually caused the house to burn down, Rebecca. But you shouldn't have to be bullied into something you don't want to do. So, I'm sorry.” Rebecca registered very little response, but Casey didn't expect a huge, gushing reply. Not from Rebecca. “So, I want to ask you, and please answer this honestly—do you want to be the Omega Chi sweetheart?”

“Do you mean, do I want them to choose me based on some seemingly arbitrary system of merits, or do I want to be paraded around like a spectacle for all to behold?”

“Either. Or, better yet, both. I'm asking both questions.”

“To answer the second question,” Rebecca said, “the answer is no, I'd like to maintain some semblance of dignity.

“And the first question?”

“Well, we've kind of lost sight of that, now haven't we?” Rebecca said. “Do I care that much? No, much less than I'm supposed to. Would it be nice to be acknowledged for the awesome person I am? Yes.”

“I need a straight answer, Rebecca.”

“Did you really expect one?”

It seemed Rebecca hadn't truly made up her mind, and Casey reminded herself that it wasn't her business to make it up for her. “Look, you're my Little Sister. That means I'm obligated to make this fun for you.”

“Oh, I'm glad you feel that it's an
obligation.
”

Casey couldn't help but roll her eyes. “What do you want to do? Aside from call off the pledge committee? Throw the contest? Nominate someone else? Because I'm not sure if we can do that, but I suspect the Omega Chis might be up for anything at this point.”

Rebecca picked her head up. “You're actually suggesting I throw the contest?”

“First of all, I think if we don't do something, the pledges are going to do it anyway by annoying the living daylights out of the Omega Chis. Unless the pledges for the other three sororities are doing the same thing, in which case we're out of our depth here.

“Second, this is about you. If you don't want to be a
sweetheart, I can't make you be a sweetheart. And I shouldn't have made you be. You don't have to be sweet if you don't want to be.”