Jess
“So, we should start taking bets on which pledge will have the best game?” I ask Skyler as we make our way through the pledge tents.
I balance our tray of cookies in one hand as I use the other to pull my strappy hoodie down and show off the girls a little more.
It’s chilly for Florida — hovering right around fifty-five — but it doesn’t stop me from showing a little flesh.
I mean, I do have a reputation to uphold.
Flags with Greek letters fly high from all the tents around us as we weave between the different frats, the field lit up by the industrial-size lights that have been set up all week.
The entire PSU Greek Life organization is out in full force, all of us donning our letters with pride, gathering like a bunch of hyenas at a damn watering hole.
And I’m wearing the biggest smile on my face, passing out winks like candy, because I’m right back in my element.
It’s fraternity rush, my favorite thing about coming back to Palm South University for spring semester.
And there are boys everywhere.
Rush used to be my mecca. It used to be my playground, jackpot, my pond full of fish, if you will.
There’s always fresh meat to be found, and all the current brothers are at the top of their top game, too.
Rush is a time of bromancing, of convincing other guys how great you are, how cool you are, how much they need you in their organization or, if you’re already a brother, how much they need to be in yours.
Of course, part of that game is showing off what girls you can land. Back in my prime, I loved to play in the game, to be the arm candy hanging on a brother’s arm or, sometimes, even the arm of a freshman. Hey, if I could help them get into the frat they wanted? Well, I saw it as my civic duty.
It was a simple game, one I dominated easily, and one I loved to be a part of.
But that was before Jarrett, and I realized over winter break that my life would forever be separated into those two categories: before Jarrett, and after him.
I remembered easily what life was like before I met him, remembered the way I used to be, and I could still close my eyes and feel every ounce of happiness, and pain, that I’d felt while being in his arms — while being his.
But life after Jarrett? I don’t understand that beast yet.
I’m like a baby gazelle, trying to figure out how to walk and run away from lions at the same time. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and pray for a miracle.
“Aren’t we a little old for freshmen, J-Love?” Skyler asks with a roll of her eyes. She’s also wearing a Kappa Kappa Beta hoodie, but hers actually covers the goodies.
“Hey! Some of them are sophomores. I heard there are even a few juniors this year.”
“What happened to Greg? I thought things were getting serious,” she mocks, nudging me.
Hearing his name makes my stomach flip, like butterflies are trying to give it liftoff but fail halfway up so it just tumbles on top of itself.
Greg and I haven’t talked since semi-formal, and though I had fun with him, I can’t help but feel like he’s part of the reason I lost Jarrett — even though I know that’s not true.
It isn’t his fault I went into that bar on Thanksgiving on a mission and found him, and it definitely isn’t his fault that he played into my hand exactly the way I wanted him to.
My plan had worked, and then it had backfired, and I’d lost the most important human to ever exist in my life.
I scoff, trying to play it off. “Yeah right. He was fun for semi-formal, but I lost interest over Christmas break.”
That’s a lie.
“I’m ready for a new toy.”
Also a lie.
Skyler laughs. “You’re relentless. You do realize you’re the Recruitment Chair now, right? You should probably be setting the standard for our sorority, which I don’t think includes scamming on fresh meat.”
“There are more eyes on your Big than on me, Sky,” I remind her. “Besides, maybe I’m trying to recruit all the skanks this semester.” I shimmy my hips a little just to drive that point home, making Skyler laugh.
“Yeah, like that would ever fly with Ex or Lei.”
Erin is president this year — the title she’s been fighting for since she arrived at Palm South — and she’s already taken her new position so seriously that I wonder if I’ll ever get to see the old Erin again.
Believe it or not, she did party once, and even though she’s always had her eye on the prize when it came to getting president, she stiffened up even more than usual last semester.
Our recruiting styles would definitely be different.
“Come on,” Skyler says as I link my arm in hers. “Let’s go drop off these cookies and start making the rounds.”
As we head toward the Omega Chi tent, I let my mind wonder over what Skyler just said as my eyes wander over the fresh meat at the fraternity rush buffet.
She’s right — I do need to keep my shit together.
Erin won’t settle for me getting into too much trouble, not now that I’m our recruitment chair.
That thought also sobers me, because I’m officially in my last year at Palm South University.
Since I changed my major late and took a position with the sorority, I’ll be graduating after fall semester instead of this May. Even still, that’s less than three-hundred-and-fifty days until I walk across the stage and leave PSU behind, until I start a new chapter, a new life.
I thought I had it figured out.
It sounds ludicrous now, that I had hung up my dreams once I’d fallen in love with Jarrett, but it was true. I was perfectly content to graduate and move wherever the fuck he was — New York, Atlanta, Papua New Guinea — it didn’t matter, as long as he was there.
But now, there is no Jarrett.
Now, there’s just Jess Vonnegut, and that bitch is a mess.
Clinton starts in on Skyler as soon as we reach the Omega Chi tent, and I take the opportunity to pull out my phone while they banter back and forth. My finger finds Jarrett’s text messages easily, and I stare at the last one I ever sent him.
- I will always love you. -
My stomach sinks, unlike the flip it did at the mention of Greg’s name. No, this time it just falls like a thousand-pound anvil, crushing those poor butterflies beneath it and breaking all their wings in the process.
What everyone already knows is that I fucked up.
I lost Jarrett, he broke up with me over a fucking video chat session, and I took Greg to semi-formal, basically only because I didn’t want to sit home and sulk.
They know I was devastated by losing him, and they know I’ve never loved a boy until him.
What they don’t know is that over Christmas break, I flew to New York to try to see him. And I did.
But he didn’t see me.
I had it all planned — the words I would say to win him back, the case I would plead, the promises I would make.
But nothing mattered once I finally found him, because he was at a bar with another woman, the one I presumed to be Jenny, his co-worker he’d told me I was crazy for feeling any kind of jealousy toward.
His tongue being halfway down her throat assured me that feeling existed for a reason.
I’m not sure how long I stood there, staring at him from across the crowded bar, watching as they kissed, and held hands, and laughed. It was like he wasn’t heartbroken at all, like he never had been, like I was so far in his past that he couldn’t even recall my name.
When I left New York City, I vowed to leave my broken heart behind, too. I vowed to return to Palm South as the old Jess Vonnegut, the man eating, take-no-shit, bad-ass bitch.
But like I said before — that was before Jarrett, and this is after.
Everything is different now.
My attention snaps back to the Omega Chi tent when I hear Skyler talking about the poker tournament she entered that takes place at the end of this semester. Clinton makes some comment to the new pledges gathered around him about her winning every tournament, and she quickly corrects him.
“Not every tournament.”
I see doubt creep in over her bright blue eyes, and I pull my shit together, eager to squash it.
“Not yet, you mean. We all know you’re going to take it all this year,” I say, and Clinton nods in agreement.
Skyler smiles, a little light coming back into her eyes, but I know we’re all going to have to be there for her this semester. This is a tournament unlike any other she’s entered before — higher entry fee, higher stakes — and we have to have her back.
The three of us make our way to the back of the tent, cookies in hand, and Skyler changes gears back to rush.
Clinton is telling her all about the new guys rushing, including a few promising guys for the intramural football team, but it’s not until he mentions the hot new transfer that both mine and Skyler’s ears perk up.
“Transfer?” she asks. “Who the hell transfers to Palm South?”
Clinton laughs, his bright white teeth blazing against his dark skin as he shakes his head, just as confused as we are. “Right? That’s what I said. But, apparently he’s got a pretty impressive resume. I heard he’s a Creative Writing major, though, so my money is on him going Alpha Sigma.”
My eyes skirt to the Alpha Sigma tent as they continue talking, and I see a big crowd gathered around it.
I can’t help but think of Adam, of the legacy he’s already built as president — hell, the one he started building before he even got the gig.
Between his concerts and last year’s Halloween party, they’ve really made a name for themselves.
One of Clinton’s brothers, Willie, pops up beside Skyler, joining in the conversation about the all-mighty transfer. I swear, fraternity rush is the only time you’ll ever hear guys getting all gooey over other dudes.
“Okay, where is this guy?” I finally ask, scanning the courtyard. “I need to see what all the fuss is about.”
Skyler chuckles. “I’m going back to the house to see if my Little is done studying yet. Behave yourself, Jess,” she says pointedly.
“No promises.”
I’m still on my tiptoes scanning the crowd when she disappears into it, and Clinton and Willie go back to talking to the freshmen.
Shrugging when I don’t immediately spot some hypnotizingly hot transfer student, I give up, turning to make my way toward the Mu Beta Chi tent, and that’s when I run straight into a brick wall.
Or rather, a man as hard as one.
Greg smiles at me, one corner of his mouth pulling up in a lazy, sexy smirk, which makes that damn dimple pop on his cheek. His dark hair blows a little in the wind, and he tucks his hands into his pockets easily, like he’s not the least bit affected by my proximity.
I try to pretend the same.
I was serious about what I said to Skyler earlier, that Greg was just for fun, that he wasn’t anything special to get my panties in a knot over. But the truth was that the last time I saw him, I was fresh off my break up, and he was just there to pick up the pieces.
Now, though the hole in my heart still gapes from where Jarrett used to be, I can’t deny that those damn butterflies aren’t trying their damnedest to sprout back to life under the weight of the anvil.
“Hey, stranger,” he says, his eyes flicking down to my cleavage and back up again.
My cheeks heat, and I find my stupid gazelle legs standing a little taller, a little straighter — all at the sight of a beautiful boy with dark eyes.
He was just a distraction last semester, a fill for the void, a patch over the hole.
But maybe, just maybe, his job isn’t done yet.