Dirty Rush (3 page)

“Taylor! Do not tell me you're actually trying to leave.”

“Ummmmm . . .”

“You're not even tipsy!”

“Okay.”

Meg pulled a small flask out of her Michael Kors Monogram clutch, took a shot from it, and offered it up to me.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Tequila, lime juice, and homemade Adderall solution. It's my secret recipe. Go ahead, you'll like it.”

“Text me,” said the model-y guy.

“Shut up, Mark. Can't you see I'm fucking busy?” said Meg.

I took a small sip. It wasn't horrible.

“See? Now come the fuck on, you didn't think this was the actual party, did you?”

I guess I wasn't going home quite yet . . .

A
fter walking back into the house and weaving through a labyrinth of hallways and strange, packed bedrooms, Meg and I arrived at a closed green door.

“You ready?” she asked slyly, taking another swig from her flask and handing it back to me. I took another, slightly bigger, sip.

“Not really.”

She pushed the door open and we walked down a long spiral staircase with cold stone walls on either side. As we descended, I heard girls laughing and the thumping bass of that Kendrick Lamar song every white person I know is obsessed with. We walked into a room full of scantily clad bodies. Some of them were dancing, some of them were sitting at tables playing cards and drinking. This crowd was much more attractive than the rest of the party upstairs. It was like I'd been upgraded from coach to first class.

“Meg!!” two identical girls screamed in unison. They were both in jeans and tank tops and they were coming right for us.

“Ladies! You look amazing!” Meg screamed back at them. The music was insanely loud. “This is Taylor Bell, Kelly's sister. Third-generation legacy, and honestly, how fucking cute is she?!”

“Love it!” said one of the twins. I hadn't realized it until I was standing next to them, but they were both so tall.

“I'm Stephanie and this is Olivia, we're twins. Obviously,” said the other as they both laughed. I went in for a handshake, but both of them just looked at me, confused. It was weird.

“So, Asher texted me two hours ago and said he was probably coming,” Stephanie said, smiling. “Then I texted him back ‘Can't wait to see you' with a smiley face, and now he just has his little thought bubble there. It's been like that for at least an hour. Is this, like, a power move? Should I just kill myself?” She made a pouty face.

For some reason, her question made me laugh really hard, which made them all start laughing. Their closeness was kind of charming.

“As you can see, Steph is an actual insane person,” Olivia said, putting her arm around her sister. “Have fun tonight and ask us any questions you want. We're good girls, we promise!”

“Nice meeting you guys,” I said to the twins as they turned and danced their way across the room.

“Okay,” Meg said, grabbing me again by the elbow and walking me through the room. “Those are our twins. They come as a package. Steph's not a slut but she loves to fuck, so that would explain this Asher person she mentioned—always a new guy with her—very liberated when it comes to the sex. Olivia is the brains of the operation. She's literally a genius. She had the idea for Facebook before Facebook was even invented. She was six. I'm not even joking.”

“Wow, that's amazing—”

“And that over there is Colette. You want her to think you're pretty and you want to be friends with her. She was basically your sister's bestie last year. They co-chaired our biggest annual
event with the children's hospital. It was amazing. Babe Walker did the keynote speech, Diplo deejayed, and a lot of cancer kids lived because of them. I'm sure she'll love you.”

We slowly walked toward a very tall, very thin girl who had her back to us. She was wearing a cropped sweater with a short skirt and suede ankle boots and had the shiniest hair I'd ever seen, tied up in a tight ponytail. She must've sensed our presence, because as we got a little closer she turned around to face us.

“You must be Kelly's skinnier, prettier sister,” Colette said, staring right at me. “Just kidding.” She smiled.

It hit me immediately that I'd seen this girl once in the Beta Zeta house when I was visiting Kelly. She was unforgettable.

“Um . . .” I was speechless. Colette was one of those girls who knew that she was gorgeous and loved it. I was in awe. Her Chloé perfume was intoxicating.

Luckily Meg chimed in, “Yup, this is Taylor, Kelly's little sister. The new face of Beta Zeta.”

“Is that so?” Colette raised an eyebrow. This girl had obviously spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting her bitch face.

“Well, I don't know if I'm going to rush yet. I'm still figuring it out.”

“Don't be an idiot. This school is boring as fuck if you're not Greek,” said Colette.

“Totally,” added a very excited Meg. “Beta Zeta is the main reason I came to this school. We're good girls, and honestly, once you're a sister, you're kinda set for life. But you already know that, Taylor. You're a purebred, babe!” She turned to Colette, who was making eyes with a linebacker-looking guy across the room.

“How
is
your sister, by the way?” Colette asked, seeming very uninterested.

“She's great.
Still in Zambia, interning away.”

“Oh . . . right.” Colette seemed confused. “That's great,” she continued, “good for her.”

“Yeah. I'm really impressed by the work they're doing out there,” I offered.

“Well, this all sounds amazing, but would you guys excuse me for just a second?” Colette asked as she gave us each a limp hug before walking over to the baby-faced bodybuilder in a trucker hat. Someone tapped on my shoulder.

“Looks like you made it into the cool kids' club.”

It was Jack, looking a little more disheveled but no less hot.

“Is that what this is?” I was so happy that he'd found me, but did my best to hide it.

“I walked around with your beer for about ten minutes looking for you, but I see you've already been adopted by the one and only Meg Landry. What's up, Meg?” he said, pulling Meg in for a bear hug and kissing her on the cheek.

“Jack and I bonded freshman year over a joint appreciation for Fleetwood Mac and Miller High Life, didn't we, Jacko?” Meg said, taking a sip of a vodka rocks that she'd managed to grab somewhere.

“That is technically a true statement,” Jack said, looking at me. “Although I don't like to publicize the fact that I wanna bone Stevie Nicks. So, thanks for that, Megs.”

God. He was beyond cute. His smile was so disarming and genuine. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to
lay around in bed with Jack all day, drink some beers, and let “Landslide” play on repeat.

“Jack!!!” The sound of a shrieking voice coming from behind me snapped me out of my daydream. I felt two hands shove me from behind. Hard.

I lost my footing and went flying past Jack and Meg, crashed through several full drinks that spilled all over me, and then snagged my foot on some wires that were apparently connected to the speakers, abruptly cutting the music and silencing the room as I careened face-first into two nasty old couch cushions. I saw darkness and smelled a nauseating mixture of sweat, mildew, and farts. I didn't lift my head, but I could feel that everyone in that basement was looking at me.

FML.

G
et up, Taylor, I thought to myself. Stand up and tell everyone that you're okay and immediately get the fuck out of here, then move to a different continent.

“Shit,” I said as I lifted my head from the couch, directly into view of a girl straddling a guy's crotch. Oh God. I'd landed directly next to Sabrina, the girl from upstairs who'd had all the abortion scares, and her boyfriend.

“Are you okay?” Sabrina asked, dismounting her boyfriend and pulling down her skirt.

“I . . . I'm fine,” I lied. I'd never been less fine. I stood up and dusted myself off, taking in the fact that the entire party had come to a halt. Almost everyone in the room was staring
at me and snickering. I scanned the room for Jack. He was in a corner talking to some girl I didn't recognize. It was immediately and unavoidably clear from their body language that they had definitely seen each other naked. Wait. What the fuck was going on? Why had he flirted with me in class and invited me to his house if he was already with somebody? Would he really be into a drunk girl in a denim miniskirt and plastic flip-flops? I was fuming and embarrassed, but I had to hide it. Really, I just wanted to die.

Allow me to introduce myself: Taylor Bell, the naive college freshman who just made a total ass of herself at her first frat party.

My dress was totally ruined, covered in brown stains and reddish liquid. Both of my knees were scraped and bloody, my whole body was pounding. A waterfall of tears was trying to push its way out from behind my eyeballs. How was I going to walk through the party and back to my dorm in this state? I would never be able to live this down. And all because I wanted to get closer to Jack.

“Okay! We're clearly over this!” I heard a voice say, as Meg steered me away from the couch and toward the back of the room. Unfortunately, that meant we had to walk past Jack and Random Girl. He looked at me with a pout and mouthed
Are you okay?
before walking away with the girl.

I was not okay.

Meg speedily led me to the quietest corner of the room.

“Babe. Are you okayyyyy?” Meg sang/pleaded, looking me up and down.

“Yeah. I'm fine.”

“But . . . you're bleeding.”

“I know that!” I snapped. Then, off her shocked expression, “I'm sorry, I should really go. Is there a side entrance or a back door I can sneak out of? I really don't want to walk through that party looking like—”

“Noooooo. No, no, no, no. Absolutely not.”

“No, I should really go,” I told her. “Thanks for everything. Tonight was actually fun, until whatever that was . . . happened. Have a good time.”

“Are you sure? The night's just getting started,” Meg pled.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just . . . I don't know.”

“What? You can tell me.”

“It's nothing, I just . . . I came here tonight because Jack invited me. We have a class together. I thought he liked me and now I feel like a total idiot.”

“Jack? Oh, babe. No, no, no. I will not have you sitting in bed with bloody knees, watching Netflix, and crying about a boy on a Thursday night. No. That's not an option.” Meg put her drink up to my mouth, forcing a big gulp.

“I don't even know who pushed me,” I said.

“I hate to say this,” Meg said, putting her hand in mine, “but it's that girl Jack's talking to right now. I think they went to high school together or something.”

This night kept finding ways to get worse.

But then, like magic, Steph and Olivia popped out of the crowd on either side of me, followed shortly by Colette in all her hair's glimmering glory.

“We just saw what happened and you definitely shouldn't leave yet,” Olivia chirped.

She put a limp hand on my shoulder. “Don't even worry about it. Jack's a flirt and can be an ass and that skank's a Beta Pi and she's really stupid, like actually dumb. You should see her Instagram. It's all pictures of Ke$ha and inspirational quotes and cats that aren't even hers.”

The “skank” must've heard Olivia's Instagram insult, because she approached us with a scowl on her face to end all scowls.

“What'd you say, bitch?” she spat at Olivia, pushing her from behind. I guess this girl was really into pushing. Is this about to be a fight? Is this what these girls do? I was scared.

“Hello, Blair. Belligerent as per usual, I can see,” said a very serious Colette, positioning herself directly in front of her.

“Don't start with me, Colette, this is not about you,” Blair said, trying to push past Colette, who was firmly standing her ground.

“That's what you don't seem to understand. In fact, this seems to be a recurring issue with you, Blair. I don't think you're able to grasp the concept that when you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. Unfortunately, that means you have to deal with me.”

“Who even
is
that girl and why are you acting like her mom? Can you just get out of my fucking way?” attempted a flustered Blair.

“Not until I let you know that from here on out, there will be no trace of you at this house or anywhere near a Beta Zeta sister without major repercussions.”

Meg put her hand on my shoulder and whispered, “Watch the master at work.”

“Because,” Colette continued, “if you do make the grave and hazardous decision to involve yourself in any of my sisters' lives,
I will personally organize and ensure your social ostracism. The truth is, Blair Witch Project, you're bad business for all of us. I'm surprised you haven't been expelled yet for last semester's string of D's in not one, not two, but all five of your 101 courses.”

“Oh, so you're stalking me now?”

“Honestly, it's quite an accomplishment to be that lazy. It's also quite an accomplishment to give an entire varsity crew team chlamydia. So, congrats.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot for that!” screamed someone from the crowd.

“You short bitch!” screamed another random voice.

Blair was utterly speechless and turning ghost white. But it wasn't over.

“I can't have you coming to another event and causing these scenes. Lest we forget the Kappa Date Party last spring when you ended up in the back of a cop car for shitting in public.”

“That's not even true.”