Got It Going On Read Online Free PDF

colors, parties, and letters—I want to be a Beta because I can help expand the founders’ mission. I strongly believe in the principles Beta Gamma Pi stands on: leadership, education, sisterhood—”
    â€œOkay, okay. You know your stuff,” Torian said. “Some of y’all need to wise up and learn a lesson from her.”
    The Betas who had been so hard on me were sending positive and approving looks my way. As soon as the rush was over, Sam and her crew asked when we could chill. I didn’t answer them and just kept walking. Yeah, we might be on the line together, but I wasn’t fake or phony. I certainly wasn’t gonna act like we were going to be best friends because I knew more about the organization they wanted to be a part of. I was not an airhead. Yeah, I might’ve once been wild, but I had substance. Instead of looking down their noses at other folks, those girls needed to do their own research. I was not a library, and I was not going to help them gain the knowledge they lacked.
    â€œI’d like to get with you guys, too,” said the girl who had been sitting alone.
    â€œPlease! We didn’t even ask you,” Cheryl said.
    â€œHere. Take my number and give me a call,” I said to the girl when I saw her dramatically tear up after being dissed by Sam and her crew.
    When I smiled at her, I knew I’d given the girl hope. I looked over at Sam, and she couldn’t even look me in the eye. She knew she and her friends were trifling. I walked away knowing I had helped make someone’s day. Being a part of the solution and not the problem made me feel good.
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    It didn’t take the girl any time to give me a call. We got together the very next day. She told me her name was Isha, and she was a junior as well. We met over breakfast and found we had some of the same classes. The day after that we got together for a study session for our psychology class.
    A week later, I’d come to the conclusion that she was cool. The only quirk I found was that she was really, really into God. I found out the object she had been twirling when I’d first seen her was a cross she’d had for ten years. Every other conversation we had was about God this or our Savior that. She’d been bugging me since I met her to go to church with her.
    Friday night while Sam was getting ready to go out with her crew to a Beta jam at a school up the way, I decided I needed something, and maybe church was it. So as Isha kept asking I finally gave in. She called it a seeker-style service.
    â€œI don’t wanna sound ignorant or anything, but what’s a seeker-style service? What do they do different?” I asked on the way there.
    Excitedly, she raved, “Oooo, great question. The style is not boring. It’s gonna be cool. The setting is like a theater, and the service is set up like a play. You’ll get the message that God loves you, and He sent His only Son to die for your sins. It’s not gonna be pushy, and our youth pastor is so good you’ll be ready to give your heart to God. I know you’re supposed to be here tonight, Cassidy. I can feel it.”
    I knew that was far-fetched. How in the world was a service or sermon going to make me think there was someone up there? My upbringing had been so hard. Some days there’d been no food, and there’d always been tons of pain seeing my mother sad most of the days—I just knew a God who was supposed to love me could not allow us to suffer so.
    An hour later as I sat in the dark theater that didn’t look like a church, I saw a skit of a girl getting raped by the most popular guy in high school. It was like déjà vu all over again. The same character wanted to commit suicide, and an angel came down from the top curtain, signifying Heaven, I guess, and told her she was worthy.
    Isha was right. I was supposed to be there at that moment because something came over me, and I felt so