be fit to take out in public, let alone fall in love with. It’s a universal truth that once that wedding ring slides on your finger, one hand slides in the waistband of his pants and he farts, right where he’s standing. They’re all pigs and we dress ‘em up and parade ‘em around for as long as they can stand it. The only reason a guy asks a girl to marry him is because he’s tired of dressing up and using his manners!”
“That can’t be true,” I wailed. “Tell me there’s something good to look forward to!”
“Nope. There’s not. Sorry.” She looked so smug and matter-of-fact about sharing her world views on all men that I couldn’t tell if it was coming from her mother’s poisonous influence or a broken heart of her own.
Hours later, there was a good old fashioned Theta sister pity party, thrown in my honor. The sisters—well, most of them, the ones who had probably voted for me to stay—gathered in the TV room, wearing their rattiest comfy pajamas and armed with decadently stupid amounts of snack foods and dessert.
“It’s practically a by-law,” Harper chirped when I came in, taking me by the arm and leading me to what must have been the sofa of honor. “Whenever a sister gets dumped—or does the dumping, like you, I mean—we put on our oldest comfy pajamas and fall into a coma brought on by romantic comedies and sugar. C’mon.” We plopped down on a couch as sisters squashed themselves over to make room for me. So much for being the total pariah I was just twenty-four hours ago.
The rest of the evening is still a total blur of tear-jerker date movies and Doritos. It was...eye-opening. They may have their flaws and their outdated ways, but this was a group of girls who could have been anywhere else at that moment, but instead, thirty or so sisters, many of whom probably cancelled plans at the last minute, chose to hang out with me instead and help me take my mind off of tall, dark, and loathsome. I noticed Quinn and a few other of the older sisters were conspicuously absent from our food-fest, until someone squealed in a high-pitched shriek.
“OMG!” someone yelled, literally saying all three letters just to avoid taking her Lord’s name in vain, “they’re here!”
I must have looked completely confused, because Kennedy came up behind me and leaned down to explain. “We also have this tradition called Other Fish. One of the sisters scrounges up another fish, as in, there are plenty of other fish in the sea. We go all out to see who can find the hottest, most eligible guy on campus, and present him on a silver platter. Well, you know, not like actually sitting on a platter. We’d have to polish it first and believe me, that’s a real chore and it’s the housekeeper’s day off!” she teased, poking fun at her own proper upbringing for once.
“Because you know what they say,” Brooks began, “best way to get over one guy is to get under another one.” She smirked and winked at me.
“Brooks Frances Langston! I can’t believe you just said that out loud!” Harper screamed, obviously shocked but laughing too hard to keep a straight face long enough to reprimand her for her comment.
“Oh, don’t worry about Brooks,” Collins chimed in, “that’s just her daddy’s side of the family showing through.”
“That is all very...intriguing...but I don’t think I’m ready to go get under another fish, or on top of one, or whatever. Especially one that you guys actually refer to as a fish,” I said with a laugh, hoping I wasn’t spitting on their kindness but also seriously hoping this was all a big joke and there wasn’t actually a guy out there.