BAD REP(38)

“Girl, it'll take me that long to be perfect.  There will be some fine Pi Sig ass there tonight and if I want to secure a date to our first mixer, I have to look drop dead gorgeous.”  She gave me a once over.  “You might want to head home and start getting ready yourself.  Maybe you'll find a guy you like tonight,” she offered.

Oh there would be a guy I liked there alright.  Just not one that I would ever have any claim to.  “Eh, I've got time to wax and primp.  No worries.” I followed Vivian up the stairs and headed to Gracie's room.

“There's never enough time to make sure you look amaze!”  I tried not to roll my eyes as she walked away.

I went into Gracie's room without knocking.  I never knocked.  Unless there was a scrunchy on the door knob.  Then I knew she was otherwise indisposed and to come back later.  Gracie was ironing a shirt when I walked in.  Her music was cranked up.  She had on that horrible rap crap that she insisted was the only music worth listening to.  She looked up as I came in and grinned.  “Hey girl!” she shouted over the stereo.

She thankfully turned the music down.  “How did the meeting with Vivian go? She's not having everyone dress like biker sluts for the first party is she?” Gracie asked.

“Ah, so you've heard the fantastic biker babes concept already,” I surmised, laying down on her bed.  She moved a pile of clothes onto the floor so I could put my feet up.

“Yeah, we had to hear about it all last week.  She seems to think it's the best idea EV-ER!”  Gracie mimicked Vivian's high pitched voice perfectly.

I laughed.  “Yeah, well it looks like you're going to have to suffer through black leather and fishnets like the rest of us,” I told her.

Gracie threw a shirt in my direction, which hit me in the face.  “Why didn't you tell her that idea sucked?  That's what you're supposed to do, Mays!” Gracie argued.

I shrugged.  “I don't know, maybe it won't be so bad,” I offered.  Gracie looked at me pointedly.

“No, you just didn't want to speak up.  Girl, you have to learn to say what's on your mind.  We're your sisters.  We're not going to feed you to the lions if you disagree with us.  That's the whole point of sisterhood.  We stick together.”  I sighed.  I could tell she really believed what she was saying, but I wasn't so sure.  I still felt a little out of place in Chi Delta at times.  Some of the girls, like Gracie, had become real friends.  The rest were still virtual strangers.

Looking at Gracie, she was the epitome of the sorority chick.  Her long hair was straight and the color of wheat.  Her eyes a pretty light green eyes and she sported a thin figure despite the fact that she ate more than most guys I knew.  She was classically pretty, with a cute little nose and rose bud lips.  If I looked up sorority girl in the dictionary, I was sure Gracie's picture would be there.  And her effortless ability to fit into this life was something I envied.

“Yeah, well, next time,” I said noncommittally.  Gracie didn't say anything, just turned back to her ironing.

“So, do you have an outfit picked out for tonight?” she asked me, putting her shirt on a hanger and placing it in the closet.  She shared her room with Milla and you could see the divide between their two personalities in that closet.  Whereas Gracie dressed conservatively but cute, Milla's clothes were trampy and revealing.

“Not yet.  What's the big deal?  It's just a party,” I said, not really getting the hype over it.  Gracie turned around to face me.

“Just a party?  Girl, this is a party at Jordan Levitt's house.  His parties are epic.  This is the first official social event of the year.  It sets the precedent for the entire fall semester.  You have to look perfect!  And more importantly, you have to find your date for the Pi Sig mixer in three weeks!  I mean, you can't go by yourself!”  Gracie sounded appalled at the idea.  I wondered when I had stepped into the 1950's.  I couldn't believe that people still hinged their entire life on finding the perfect guy.  And herein lies the biggest difference between these girls and me.

Because I'd much rather go to the mixer by myself.  I didn't like the thought of scrounging for a date with some random guy and then having to suffer through an entire night of awkward conversation.   But apparently that was a serious social faux pas.  “Okay, okay.  I'll make sure to look Barbie doll perfect,” I said sarcastically, though Gracie didn't pick up on it.