Free Sorority Sisters by Claudia Welch Page A

didn’t laugh and neither did Mom, but they didn’t tell me I was overreacting either. In fact, Dad said, “It’s probably for the best.” They let me tell them my version, watched me pack up my car, and waved me down the street as I drove to ULA.
    â€œI’m just not good enough,” I say, talking over Karen. “I’ve never been good enough. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not tough enough. And I can’t do math.”
    â€œWill you shut up?” she says. “I’m trying to be nice, giving you my best mom imitation, but you’re really pushing it. Not pretty enough? Are you delusional? Don’t answer that. You’re delusional. You’re gorgeous and you know it, and I know it, and every guy on The Row knows it.”
    But the guy I want isn’t on The Row. The guy I want is Midshipman Temptation, known to the world at large as Doug Anderson. Doug was with me at Miramar. Doug passed everything. Doug is going to be a navy pilot. And I’m not.
    â€œAre you tough enough?” Karen says. “You made it through Rush and Initiation and countless exchanges, so I know you’re tough. But what’s a Dilbert Dunker?”
    â€œIt’s a fake helo crash, in water, and then you have to find your way out, underwater.”
    â€œThat settles it; you’re tough, but what an insane way to spend summer vacation. All that leaves is math, and I can completely understand your problem with math since I have the same problem. Math is ridiculous. I don’t get it either. They lost me at long division when I waved math good-bye with a hysterical little laugh. I’m sure there must be some way we can contribute to society without having to divide fractions.”
    I laugh, but it has a hollow sound, breathy, like I’m a hundred years old.
    Karen moves off the chair and sits at my feet, looking up at me, smiling. She looks very small and cute and cheerful, ready to lead me out of any hysteria I succumb to, unwilling to judge, willing only to care. “Okay, so you didn’t make it. Okay, so what? You’ll be good at something else. Have you tried underwater basket weaving? People say good things about it. You’ve already passed the Dilbert Dunker prerequisite.”
    â€œIdiot,” I say, grinning in spite of myself.
    â€œWhat are you guys doing out there?” Ellen says from the doorway that leads back into the house. “I thought we were going to eat!”
    â€œWe’re coming!” I yell back; then I smile down at Karen and we both get to our feet. “I just have to hang up my clothes and make my bed.”
    â€œThrow your clothes on your bed. This isn’t the navy. Today, you’re not a midshipman; you’re a sorority girl, and sorority girls can be slobs,” Ellen says. “Let’s eat!”
    Without any further breakdowns on my part, Karen, Ellen, Laurie, and I ditch the pandemonium of the Beta Pi house and walk down the block to the Pepper Mill, just up Figueroa from the 401 Club, the best and most frequented ULA nonofficial hangout.
    â€œSo what did you do on your summer vacation?” Ellen asks the table. “Me? I spent the summer in Malibu working on my tan and avoiding Ed. It was great.”
    â€œDid you meet anyone?” Karen asks.
    â€œI can’t be bothered to talk to anyone while I’m working on my tan. You should know that by now,” Ellen says. “Next? Diane, how was your summer with the US Navy?”
    â€œI quit the flight program,” I say. We’re sitting in a booth, the waitress having taken our order, and Karen is sitting next to me; she inches over slightly so that our thighs are touching. “Actually, I quit, and I also wasn’t accepted into the flight program, to be perfectly honest.”
    â€œWhat?” Ellen says. “What happened?”
    â€œI’m so sorry, Diane,” Laurie says, her cool