Free Pledged by Alexandra Robbins

preferred adjective, “ fab ulous.”
    On Wednesday, Omega Phi sent over tubs of gourmet ice cream and boxes of popsicles. Zeta Sigma delivered a gorgeous bouquet of two dozen red roses, which the sisters proudly displayed in a Waterford crystal vase just inside the front door. For the girls in the house, it was like the captain of the football team and the student body president fighting over who would take them to prom. Well, not quite—Omega Phi and the Zetas were probably more like the baseball captain and the vice president. But the brothers were nice, the gifts were flattering, and the girls were tickled by the attention.
    By Saturday, the girls were jittery with excitement because of circulating rumors that they were going to be serenaded that night. Sororities were allowed to serenade fraternities first to invite their courtship, but Alpha Rho hadn’t bothered because the sisters didn’t think they needed to. If a fraternity serenaded them, it meant that the boys were officially asking Alpha Rho to match with them for Greek Week. If the girls sang back their chapter’s official serenade—whether right away or later on at the fraternity house—it meant they accepted the offer. The vibe was that the house was split pretty evenly between the Zetas and Omega Phi, so the decision would come down to a vote in the house that evening after the serenades. The arguments about the two houses were growing so heated that Amy expected a blowup at the vote meeting that night.
    At 9:15, Amy beamed and excitedly grabbed another sister’s hand when she heard the Zeta brothers chanting: “Alpha Rho, Alpha Rho” from a block away. Fraternity serenades at State U, as at many schools, consisted of crude rewritten lyrics about sex, smoking, and drinking, sung to the tune of a nonmelodically challenging pop song. To a Justin Timberlake song, the Zetas sang the lewdest lyrics Amy had ever heard—something about going down on the sisters—but the girls laughed and clapped along. Sometimes for the sisters, these serenades were like watching an embarrassingly bad episode of American Idol (featuring contestants reeking of beer), but the Alpha Rhos never laughed at the brothers as long as they made an effort. In this case, the Zetas were a good group of guys, friendly and funny, and though they couldn’t hit the notes, they were clearly excited and sang happily about how attractive the Alpha Rho girls were. Flattered, the Alpha Rhos responded with a rousing cheer for Zeta Sigma.
    About an hour later, dozens of Omega Phi boys chanted at Alpha Rho’s door until Charlotte let them in. Inside, they clustered around the TV room and handed a cute, inexpensive necklace to each girl. Delighted that all of her sisters now had matching accessories, Amy began to ponder voting Omega Phi instead.
    After Charlotte quieted the crowd, one brother formally stepped forward. “I am the president of Omega Phi.”
    Charlotte, cool and confident, her neck straight beneath her carefully arranged pearls—the symbol of refined sorority sisters everywhere—stepped forward. “I am the president of Alpha Rho.”
    Another brother stepped forward. “I am the Greek Week chair of Omega Phi.”
    Caitlin and her co–Greek Week chair stepped forward. “We are the Greek Week chairs of Alpha Rho.”
    The group clapped as the officers stepped back into the crowd. Omega Phi finished the presentation by singing Omega Phi lyrics to a Limp Bizkit tune. The brothers marched out in unison to the girls’ cheers.
    Afterward, the house had a meeting, attendance mandatory. The girls had a huge decision to make: they knew the fraternity they chose would affect how much fun they would have during what was supposed to be the most enjoyable week of the year—and how much of a chance they would have at winning the top Greek honor at State U. First, the song chairs taught the girls the song they would use when they went to the fraternity house and indicated their acceptance by