“Man, that was the fastest time for beating sink or swim. How’d you do it?” Abigail asks.
“I stayed calm as I did the math in my head.” I reply.
“Wish I had thought of that.” Marcia says. They had to help me out of the pool the first time.”
My eyes grow wide on the revelation. “You mean I’d have to do this again?”
“Every morning until you figured it out.” Abigail replies. “Very few girls get it on the first try.”
I wrap the towel around myself as Dean Mother Carver pats me on the back “Man, you guys play rough.” I joke. “Tasers, attempted drowning, what’s next? Getting shot at?”
“That’s next week.” Dean Mother Carver jokes.
I have a feeling it actually is next week. “Can’t you make me do something a little less dangerous and a little more humiliating?”
“We’re not that kind of sorority.” Dean Mother Morgan says.
“The world is a rough place. You have to think fast if you’re going to survive in it.” Grand Mother Flowers says. “What matters here is you didn’t give up, thought on your feet and stayed calm as you solved a problem.”
“I was just trying to stay alive–”
“It’s what a leader would have to do when running a company like Anderson Financial.” Grand Mother Flowers replies.
These challenges they’re putting me under aren’t the standard sorority stuff. Hazing is about humiliation, but each of these stunts seems to have some kind of lesson behind them. “Are these a series of tests? Or are you hazing me?” I ask.
“To become a Theta Sister you must overcome challenges.” Grand Mother Flowers says. “And how you overcome each challenge will determine whether or not you receive your Theta pin at the end of the summer. As we prepare your body, mind and spirit, we believe you’ll become a better–rounded as a woman at the end of the Pledge process.”
“I take it this is why you’re not part of the National Pan Hellinic Council.” I say.
“No, we’re not part of the National Pan Hellenic Council because we’re a Christian organization.” Grand Mother Flowers replies. “The Greek fraternities are Godless organizations.”
“We are about building integrity and character in women and the promotion of Christian values.” Dean Mother Carver says. “The only thing Greek about this organization is the symbol.”
“So there’s not going to be drunken parties, wild sex orgies, step shows, or panty raids?”
The ladies smile at me. “As crazy as it gets around here are our Sunday dinner parties. Dean Mother Dr. Reed says. “And all of them are non–alcoholic.”
Well, I am underage. And they did promise Aunt Margaret they’d take good care of me. “I guess I am safer here than on the streets of New York at Night.”
The ladies laugh. I think I made a breakthrough; the wall between me and the other Sisters is coming down. While I’d love to sit and talk with them a little more, I really need to get this chlorine out of my hair. And I need to get dried off before I get too sick to be ready for the next challenge.
Looks like Grand Mother Flowers has the same idea. “You’d better head back up to the suite Colleen.” Grand Mother Flowers says. “You’re going to get pneumonia if you stand out here too long.”
I turn to Marcia and Abigail. “You guys want to show me–”
“You can find it on your own.” Abigail says. “Once you walk into the kitchen, you walk upstairs, down the hall and turn the corner.” Your bags are in the walk–in closet.”
I stroll across the estate with a huge smile on my face. They’ve always trusted me, but I’m starting to trust myself with them a little more.
Chapter 18
As I approach the patio doors of the Theta House, I get a good look at the backyard. Even with the huge pool they still have acres of land surrounding the estate. I’m going to have to ask my new friends to give me a tour when we get some free time.
I march into the kitchen and hurry up the back staircase. When I get on the second floor, I march down the hall, turn the corner and head back into the suite. A quick shower should wash the chlorine off my skin and hair.
I find the walk–in–closet in the back of the suite. My bags are right where Abigail told me they’d be. I grab the toiletries trunk off the top of the stack of Louis Vuitton suitcases and streak out of the walk in closet. The bathroom is right across the hall, I drop my trunk on the counter, take out my soap and shampoo and I dart into up the stairs into the shower stall. After a half–hour of water jets pouring over me I step out of the shower feeling clean.
I streak downstairs over to the cabinets next to the bathroom sink, wrap a bath sheet around myself and dry my hair as best I can. Then I head over to the mirrors above the bathroom sink to blow dry and style my hair. It’s not salon fresh like yesterday, but it’ll get me through the week.
I slather on some lotion, put on some deodorant and perfume, slather on some red lipstick, wash my hands and get my contacts out of a side compartment in the case. As the room gets clearer, I get another look at myself in the mirror. Abigail is right, my face is too pretty to hide behind a pair of glasses.
I’m preparing to take care of Colleen’s big girl hair when I hear Abigail calling me. “Colleen? Colleen?”
I wrap my towel back around myself, put my trimmer back in the case and rush out of the bathroom into the suite. “What’s going on Abby?” I ask.
“The Dean Mothers sent me to see how you were doing.” Abigail continues. “Looks like you’re cleaned up.”
“Showered, styled, and ready for whatever’s next.”
“The Dean Mothers want us to take you to see our esthetician to take care of your bikini area.”
“I was going to take care of it myself. My skin is really sensitive–”
“Waxing is a lot better than shaving.” Abigail replies. “It really leaves it smooth. And it feels so much cleaner.”
“You talk like you come from experience.”
Abigail eases down her skirt and panties to show me a lot more Abigail than I expected to see two days into pledging. “All the Theta women wax.” She says showing me a pubic area that’s completely hairless.
I’ve never waxed before. But if it works for my Sisters, I guess I can get with the program for a summer.
Abigail pulls up her skirt and gives me a playful look. “But we may need a lot more wax for you. I could make a wig out of what you’ve got down there–” she teases pulling at the bottom of my towel.
“Come on, stop ripping on my pubes–” I say back jerking away.
“It’s like bigfoot down there. When’s the last time you shaved? Two years ago?”
I’m not gonna answer that question because it will incriminate me. “I had to study–”
“That’s no excuse for not taking care of yourself Col.”
“Don’t I meet the Theta standard for vanity?”
“Just barely. Look you’ve got to take some time for yourself. There’s more to life than school.”
“And what do your grades look like at Columbia baldy?”
“I have a 4.00 GPA.”
Wow. She gets straight A’s at an Ivy League school and still has time to wax her privates clean. She is smarter than I am.
Look, “Slipdress Sunday is this weekend and the Dean Mothers want us to get you ready for it.”
Slipdress Sunday. Wonderful. I get to spend an afternoon wearing something so thin and close to the body it shows off everything I want seen and everything I don’t. And I forgot to pack one. Guess I’m going shopping after I get all my crotch hairs ripped out.
“Slipdress Sunday?” I inquire.
“It’s the theme for this weekend’s party. All the sisters are going to be wearing slipdresses and strappy sandals when we host the Theta Alumni this weekend.”
“I didn’t bring a slipdress. And with my hourglass figure I’m not exactly the body type for one.”
“Nonsense.” Abigail dismisses. “I think
you’d look great in a slipdress. You’ve got a knockout body with curves in all the right places. But that big jungle bush of yours is gonna stick out like a sore thumb under one.”
“It’s part Native American.”
“Could you please get ready so we can take you to the salon?”
“Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”
Chapter 19
Abigail leaves the suite and heads downstairs. I hurry into the walk–in closet and grab the Louis Vuitton garment bag, a suitcase and one of my hatboxes. I take the bags into the suite, drop them on the bed and quickly get changed into a periwinkle suit, periwinkle pumps and a light blue Church hat with pink flowers. I grab my purse, slip the diamond studs in my ear and slide the Rolex watch on my wrist then get a good look at myself in the full–length mirror. I look pretty elegant for a woman about to have hair ripped out of her crotch.
I check my watch as I sling my purse over my shoulder and rush downstairs. Marcia and Abigail light up at the sight of me.
“Wow Colleen, you look so elegant.” Marcia compliments.
“Thanks. Let’s go rip some hair out of my body.”
The girls smile as Rosa gets the door for us. We head down the rose bush–lined walkway where Rumsfeld is standing in front of the Rolls in his driving uniform. As we get into the backseat, Marcia reaches into her purse for the black scarf. I know the routine.
“While we’re out, I need to buy a slipdress for Slipdress Sunday.” I tell them as the blindfold is tied around my eyes.
I feel the girls light up on my request. “We know just the store in town to take you to.” They say in unison.
Rumsfeld starts up the car and we drive off the estate. I feel the car turning as we drive onto the main road. From what they’ve told me We’re in New York and in a town. I’ve got two clues to where I am. Now to get some clues to who Marcia Duvalier and Abigail Montgomery are outside of The Thetas.
“So Abby, what’s your major?”
“Computer Science.” Abigail replies.
Crap. MochaTan Malibu Barbies do know math. And more complex math than I could ever do in my life. “Computer Science? Wow I wouldn’t have thought that by looking at you–”
I feel Abigail smiling at me. “I get that a lot. Most people don’t expect girls to know anything about computers.”
“Tell me about it. I go in a store to talk about RAM and video cards and people look at me like I have two heads.”
Abigail’s eyes light up. “You built a computer?”
“I got tired of salesmen trying to push crappy entry level computers on me at the price of the top of the line models. So I decided to build it myself.”
“You didn’t find it hard your first time?”
“Nah. It’s sort of like assembling a jigsaw puzzle. Once you figure out where all the parts go it just comes together–”
“That’s the way my second one was.” Abigail says. “You might have a knack for this.”
“I was planning on building a laptop this fall–”
“We have got to stay in touch after this.” Abigail says. “Do you live in New York?”
“I live on the Upper East Side. Seventy–Third Street and Park.”
“No Way. I live on Seventy–Fifth and Madison!
“How did I miss you?”
“You guys seem to have hit it off.” Marcia chimes in.
“Make a few jokes about a girl’s pubes and you bond with her Marcia.” I quip.
“Marcy Col. Call me Marcy.”
“So what are you majoring in Marcy?”
“Economics. With a Marketing minor.”
Wow she’s studying the same thing I am. “That’s what I’m studying at NYU!”
“Kind of dry isn’t it?”
“That’s why I’m taking the women’s history classes.” I say. “I need a break from all those numbers and statistics.”
“And you’re studying women’s history because…?”
“I wanted to get in touch with myself. After my mom died, I didn’t have many relationships with women. Outside of my Aunt taking me to the beauty salon on Saturdays and taking care of me when Daddy went on business trips, I didn’t spend much time with other girls my age.”
“I guess you got that strong Black woman line from watching a lot of Oprah.” Marcia says.
“I practically lived in front of that show when I was doing homework.”
“So all you know about women is what you’ve read in books and seen on Television?” Abigail asks.
“Pretty much.”
“And that’s probably why you still think sororities are sexist.” Abigail says.
“No offense, but from what I’ve seen on the NYU campus and watched in the movies I thought you guys would just be a bunch of MochaTan Malibu Barbies who lived to party, wore pink designer clothes, and were coasting through school until you snagged a rich husband.”
The girls are silent for a moment and laugh. I cringe in fear of getting served again.
“I have money.” Marcia retorts. “What do I need with a rich husband for?”
“And I’m definitely not coasting through school.” Abigail says. “I planning on working in the MIS department of my parents’ company after I graduate.”
“But what about the designer clothes?”
“It’s a confidence builder.” Marcia says. “When you dress well, you feel more confident.”
“Col, it sounds like you haven’t had too many experiences with women.” Abigail replies. “And you’re making judgments based on what you’ve seen and not what you’ve experienced.”
“You sound like my father.”
“He’s got a point.”
“Seriously, it sounds like to me you’re just scared of being around other women.” Marcia says. “Are you intimidated by girls who are on the same level as you are?”
Maybe I am scared. I mean, the only other woman I’ve experienced regularly outside of my teachers on a regular basis is my Aunt Margaret. And most of the time she was just so cruel to me. I could never do anything right in her eyes, and it made me feel so inadequate. She’d just belittle me and nitpick every little mistake I made. I guess my bad experiences with her made me withdraw from social contact with other women.
“I’m just afraid you’re not going to like what you see about me.” I mutter.
“…And we get to the root of Colleen’s insecurities.” Abigail chimes. “You know when you admit something it’s a sign that you want to change.”
“My Aunt just picks at me all the time. And I thought you were going to do the same thing because you belong to the same sorority that she does.”
I get a blank look. “You think you’re the only one your aunt picks on?” Marcia jokes.
Your aunt makes everyone feel like crap.” Abigail snarls. “She’s just a bitter old lady.”
“But she says she mentors you–”
“If mentoring means driving you crazy then yeah, she’s mentoring us.” Marcia jokes. “All the other Theta Sisters including Grand Mother Flowers just put up with her.”
“But not all women are like her Colleen.” Abigail says. “We’re not judging you. None of the Theta Sisters are.”
“What about that examination?”
“What about it?” Marcia says. “Everyone has to go through that. It’s part medical physical, part interview.”
“And you stripped me naked because…”
“To make you uncomfortable.” Marcia answers. “When you’re uncomfortable, you tend to be more truthful.”
And when you’re naked you have nothing to hide. Your body will tell the truth even when lies are coming out of your mouth. I should have known there was a purpose behind it like everything else around here.
“You know if they found out you had tattoos or piercings in any other part of you that wasn’t your ears you during the examination you’d be on your way back to New York right now.” Abigail says.
“And if your body showed a l
ong sexual history, drug abuse or we found out you had a juvenile record you’d be out too.” Marcia replies.
“And if you told us you were a lesbian you’d have been sent home last night.” Abigail says.
Wow. They don’t play. “So you don’t pick all the Pledges?”
“The Thetas have high standards for principles.” Abigail answers. “Many are called but few are chosen. You can come from a wealthy family, but if your values aren’t right you aren’t allowed to be a part of our sisterhood.”
“And right now you’re doing very well Colleen.” Marcia says.
“Me? The surly jackass–”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Abigail replies. “You’re kind of fun to be around.”
“You know if you give yourself a chance you might learn to like yourself.” Marcia says.
Maybe I do need to take some time to get to know myself. I’ve been hiding for so long. Being Daddy’s girl. Aunt Margaret’s whipping post. Trying to disappear as I fit in with the rest of the world. Conforming and looking for acceptance. I never really took the time to discover what I liked or what I wanted, what made me stand out from everyone else.
Chapter 20
I feel the Rolls easing into a parking space. I guess we’re here. Fresh air rushes into the sedan as Rumsfeld opens the back door to let us out. Before we get out of the sedan, I turn around so Marcia can untie my blindfold. As I step out of the backseat I look down a main street strip full of quaint–looking small shops with green canvas awnings. I’m eager to see what kinds of shops are in town after my bikini wax.
As the girls arrange a schedule a pick up time with Rumsfeld, I look inside the window of the Sunny Day Beauty Spa. It must be busy; I see lots of women getting manicures and pedicures. I guess this is where I’ll be getting my treatment.
Abby gets the door for us after Rumsfeld drives back to the Theta House. As we enter the Sunny Day Beauty Salon, a slender middle–aged Asian woman at the reception desk smiles at us.
“Sisters so, glad to see you again.” She says through a perfect New York accent. “What can I do for you?”
“We called ahead for an appointment Jun.”Marcia says pointing to me. “This is our Pledge Colleen. She’s here for a bikini treatment.”
Jun looks me up and down as she shakes my hand. “You think she’s ready for a Brazilian?”