THE NERDIEST GIRL AT MONARCH #2
True. But we’ve come to college to take risks and challenge ourselves, right?
That’s my philosophy, honed over the years that I lived a sheltered life in foreign countries.
Once I moved to Minnesota for college, I would seize those opportunities with both hands.
No more safe, quiet life for me. Of course, my cautious personality isn’t exactly suited to this philosophy, but I can change.
My mom video-calls as I’m getting ready for class.
Am I calling at a bad time? she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. My mom on video always sounds like she’s trying not to wake up an ogre lying beside her. Just in case someone is listening.
No, it’s fine. I only have a couple of minutes, though. I’m getting ready for class. I smile at her as I’m brushing my hair.
It’s so nice to see your face. It’s nice to see her face too. I’ve always wished my features were as delicately pretty as hers, instead of having my dad’s strong bone structure.
We catch up on each other’s news—not that much since we spoke three days ago, but then I have to get to class.
I don’t want to hold you up, darling, she says softly.
For a moment, I catch a glistening in her eyes even through the tiny screen. Is she crying?
Is everything okay, Mom? I peer at her, but she’s smiling now.
Of course. Good luck on your sorority bids.
I tense. Part of me wishes that she had forgotten about that, but my mother is extremely sharp.
Thanks. Love you, I say before we disconnect.
My classes go by quickly. My mood zigzags; first I’m engrossed in my lectures, and then worried about the bids. But superstitiously, I refuse to check my email. If it’s bad news, I don’t want to be distracted from my coursework. I delay until I’m back in my room.
Annie is waiting there. She tries to hide her excitement, but I can tell.
You got into Sigma Phi? I ask.
She grabs me, and we jump up and down. Oh my god, I’m so happy. Did you check your emails yet?
I shake my head, then sit down at my desk and open up my laptop. I scan my emails. There’s one from Sigma Phi…and nothing else. I click on the email.
I got into Sigma Phi too, I say.
Annie hugs me from behind. Oh, that’s so awesome. Now we can be friends forever!
While I’m elated to hear her say that, I’m also upset about not making the sorority of my choice.
I try to smile properly, but I’m not fooling Annie. Wait. Are you disappointed about Alpha Zeta Mu?
A little, I admit.
Evelyn. Reality check. Did you really feel comfortable there? she demands.
I consider this. I could imagine myself among the sorority sisters, but in my fantasies, I was a super version of myself: better groomed and more self-assured.
I know it was a dream, but it seemed possible, I say haltingly.
She sighs. I felt out of place there. Like my clothes weren’t the right brands or expensive enough. Everyone there had been in the top cliques in their high schools. I was definitely not one of the cool girls back home.
I was, I joke. Being home-schooled meant that I was both the coolest and nerdiest girl in the school. The jock, the artiste, the prom queen, and all the other high school caricatures rolled up in one.
Annie scoffs. You don’t know what it feels like to have the mean girls look down on you. Or to ridicule you with their subtle insults. ‘Where did you get those unique shoes, Annie?’
Did you think they were putting us down when we visited Alpha Zeta Mu? As an only child, I tend to be trusting and oblivious.
Annie makes a face. No, they weren’t mean, but they were so uniformly polite that it felt fake.
Like they’d already made up their minds within five seconds of meeting us so they didn’t have to get to know anyone further.
And they didn’t have to sell us because they know they’re the most desirable sorority.
I’d interpreted their politeness as niceness, and the fact that they treated everyone the same as meaning we all had an equal chance.
Are you really upset? she asks.
I shake my head. I don’t want to admit how much this hurts. College is just starting, and it already feels like I’m failing.
Do you want to go down for dinner now? she asks.
Um, you know what? I think I’m going to skip dinner and go to the library, I say.
Annie eyes me suspiciously. Really? Do you want me to bring something back for you?
It’s okay. I have protein bars in my purse. I avoid her gaze. Annie’s smart enough to know that I’m lying about my pain, but she also understands that I don’t want to talk yet. Before I leave, she gives me a fierce hug, which is cheering.
The Schultz Reference Library is already my sanctuary.
I am ecstatic to be in a library filled with books in English on my favourite subjects.
I climb the dimly lit wooden stairs to the top floor and go straight to the history section where I peruse the Eastern Europe shelves.
I’m going to major in history and political science at Monarch, so I’ll be spending a lot of time here.
I pull out volume after volume until I can’t carry any more books, then take them over to one of the large oak tables. This place is always blessedly empty. I pull on my headphones and dial up some Bill Evans. Courtesy of my father, I’m a classic jazz aficionado.
I’ve been reading a feminist history of Russia, and I want to cross-reference the incidents mentioned in the book.
I settle in to research Alexandra Kollontai—the first female commissar in Lenin’s government and a force in the Social Democratic Party.
As usual, it’s shocking how much the versions of history vary, so I’ll have to decide my own truth.
While most women my age would binge-watch reality shows or eat junk food, I self-soothe by reading history. No wonder I can’t get into Alpha Zeta Mu. I am the nerdiest girl at Monarch.
But it works. In no time, I’m transported to Bolshevik Russia where sororities don’t even exist.
Excuse me, a deep male voice says.
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, wrenching me out of the past. Instinctively my elbow jerks back and comes into contact with something solid.
Ohhh, fuuuck.
There’s a thud. A large man is lying on the carpet beside me, clutching his genitals in the fetal position.
Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I kneel beside him, but as I grab the table for balance, I dislodge a large book on revolutionary Russia that lands on his ankle. He yelps in pain. Well, specifically in more pain.
Oh no! I’m so sorry, again. Can I help you in any way? I pat his shoulder ineffectually, and notice how broad and muscled it is. In fact, he’s muscled everywhere. Even his neck looks strong as I watch his prominent Adam’s apple undulate.
It takes a couple of minutes before he actually sits up. I’ve been apologizing the whole time, but he has only groaned in response. I understand that the groin is one of the most vulnerable places on a man, but I’ve never seen it so graphically illustrated.
Now that his face isn’t wrinkled in pain, he’s quite attractive with a squared jaw, high cheekbones, and round boyish eyes. His brown hair falls in perfect layers even after rolling on the floor. Not my type, though. I didn’t come all the way to Minnesota to date a guy with Slavic good looks.
I’m so, so sorry. You surprised me, and I reacted out of shock. I certainly didn’t mean to hurt you, I reassure him.
He heaves a deep breath and finally speaks, his voice hoarse and low. Yeah. I got that message the first ten times you told me.
Well, there’s no need to be rude. It was an accident, I reply.
What about dropping the book on me? He rubs his ankle. Was that a mistake too?
Is he being deliberately obtuse? Maybe the myth is true about good-looking guys being dumb.
Of course. Why on earth would I want to hurt you?
I have no idea. But you’re doing a great job.
You could give tips to the Hoover defencemen.
They’ve been trying to take me out for years.
The corner of his mouth tips up in a half-smile.
Wait, is he bragging that he’s on the Mustangs hockey team?
And expecting me to react with a girlish swoon?
His egotistical assumption only makes me angry.
Being on the hockey team doesn’t give you carte blanche to disturb people who are studying, I reply tartly. If only Annie could see my assertiveness now. You should have never laid a hand on me in the first place.
One eyebrow goes up, but his slight smile remains. But you didn’t respond when I spoke to you the first three times.
I was reading. As one does in the library, I point out.
And you were also hogging a lot of the books I was looking for. He finally stands. My neck goes back as I watch him unfurl to his full height. I’m not intimidated though, I’ve brought him down once and I can do it again.
Fine. Feel free to use any of the books you need, except this one. I put my hand on the volume I was reading. You can even share this table, if you want.
He makes a mock bow. Thank you, your majesty.
Oh, the arrogance. I’m done apologizing. I pull my headphones back on, turn up Autumn Leaves, and return to reading. When I look up half an hour later, he’s gone.