Sorority Sisters Read Online Free PDF Page B

roll.
    â€œI think I’ll take him. He looks good,” Missy says, using her chin to point out the middle guy in the trio standing across from us. He’s a fellow ROTC, so this is going to be easy.
    â€œRawlins! This is Missy. She’d like to dance,” I say, grabbing Dean Rawlins by the arm and pulling him toward me. “You’ve been volunteered.”
    Rawlins smiles, nods at Missy, and escorts her to the dance floor—in this case, the middle of the Rho Delt living room, the couches having been pushed to the walls.
    I stare at the two remaining guys. One is another ROTC and the other one isn’t. I’m avoiding ROTC guys as a rule—Dad’s rule—so I smile at the guy with hair that reaches his collar. “Cat got your tongue?” I say.
    â€œYou the cat? Then not my tongue,” he says, a glint in his eyes. Oh, one of those. He does have that look, not that I mind. You’ve got to watch that type every minute, but you’ve got to watch them all every few minutes anyway. It’s part of their charm.
    â€œCome on, sweetie. Dazzle me with your moves.”
    He leads me onto the dance floor, but we all know those aren’t the kinds of moves I need to worry about.
    Do I look worried?
    Hell, no.

Laurie
    â€“ Fall 1975 –
    I joined a sorority so that I could make friends—I told the truth about that—but the truth I didn’t tell is that I also joined a sorority, any sorority, so that I could casually bump into Pete Steinhagen during a Rho Delt exchange. The problem is that after six years of girls’ boarding school, I have no skill whatsoever in casually bumping into a guy, and I certainly couldn’t manage any sparkling interaction with guys on my own, but with my new sorority sisters around me, I can manage to create the illusion of ease and sophistication. I’m fairly confident of that after so many exchanges. Of course, none of the previous exchanges meant a thing to me; they were my dress rehearsal for the Rho Delt exchange.
    â€œWhy are you guys still standing around?” Ellen says, having pushed through the crowd to stand next to Karen and me. “You don’t even have beers!”
    â€œI thought we covered that on the walk over,” I say.
    â€œYeah, yeah. I blanked that out. It was too awful. Hey, let’s go over there. He’s cute,” Ellen says.
    â€œThe guy or the keg?” Karen says.
    â€œAny guy standing next to a keg has a leg up on the competition,” Ellen says. “Who’s with me?”
    â€œI’m in,” Karen says. “Laurie?”
    Karen and I have been stuck to each other, our backs against the wall, since we walked into the room. I’ve been looking for Pete from my corner; I haven’t seen him. He, if he’s here, hasn’t seen me. “Sure. Why not?” I say. I need to move around, get into the crowd, and give Pete a chance to find me.
    â€œAre you the beer man?” Ellen says to the guy. “Do you need a barmaid to help you deliver the frothy goods to the eager customers?”
    He smiles. “You can be my tavern wench if you’ll split your tips with me.”
    Ellen grins. “Tavern wenches don’t get the kind of tips you can split.”
    â€œAt least he thinks you’ll bring in the bucks,” I say.
    â€œIs this Pimp Dialogue 101?” Karen says. “I need a syllabus.”
    â€œGod, can you imagine the reading list?” Ellen says.
    He shakes his head and says, “Never get into verbal warfare with one woman, let alone three. I’m toast.”
    â€œSisters?” Karen says, starting to laugh.
    â€œFour,” he says. “And I’m the baby.”
    â€œOh, you had it bad,” Ellen says. “Okay, I forgive you the tavern-wench thing.”
    â€œSo are we back to splitting your tips?” he says.
    â€œHey, I’m not even going to split my beer with you,” Ellen says.