Chapter 2: Assumptions & Administration
Caleb went to the party hoping to get laid. That didn't happen. In fact he'd humiliated himself in front of no less than three beautiful girls. He'd been rejected, berated, and unable to perform. And yet, somehow, he felt no shame. In fact, the morning after the party, Caleb bounced with a swing in his step down to the communal bathrooms, whistling a chipper tune.
All was right in the world: he scored Hailey Gray's number.
Caleb slept on a plastic sheet the night before to keep the paint from coming off on his sheets, for all the good that did. But now, he scrubbed away the neon paint that caked his body. But it was those two single strokes in vivid blue that he hesitated to wash away. He could still feel the gentle press of her finger to his chest and the swipes: down and left, then right.
Caleb smiled to himself. Such a small thing to remember, but he knew it would stick with him for a long time. The hot soapy water rinsed his pale body of Hailey's paint, and Caleb whistled to himself as fog clouded the room, letting his mind wander.
Chuck's ominous warnings about Hailey's character did give Caleb pause. After all, even if the rumors were overblown urban legends, Hailey did give the impression that she might be... a little dangerous to men. Maybe. Surely, there had to be some truth behind the rumors, even if they were only malicious slander. Maybe she really was some sort of evil seductress? But no, that was the kind of fear and self-doubt that made Boring Caleb a nobody. Dangerous or not, Caleb knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if he didn't take his shot with the hottest woman he had ever met.
In the end, he waited a day so he didn't seem desperate, then he texted her.
[Hey Hailey. This is Caleb. Had a great time the other night :) So, when's the next party?]
He sat in the library, staring with anticipation at his phone for a solid five minutes. No reply.
She must be busy. It had to be a lot of work to be a sorority president. Caleb, with some
effort, forced himself to put his phone down and crack open a textbook.
An hour later, there was still no response. And none that evening, nor the next day nor the next nor even the one after that. Caleb fought the urge to text again with herculean strength. The last thing he wanted was to seem desperate... despite the fact that he was indeed becoming quite desperate.
He just had to wait and hope that Hailey hadn't forgotten about him completely.
...
Hailey Gray rose with the sun, grumbling to herself as she flicked her alarm off with a finger. She had always been a big believer in Ben Franklin's proverb "early to bed, early to rise, makes a bitch healthy, wealthy, and wise", but her social responsibilities occasionally made the "early to bed" part impossible. And frankly, it sucked that she had to be up at six while the other girls slept in until ten or even later. Still, she did take comfort in the thought that she was gaining some kind of logistical edge.
As she showered, styled her hair, completed her eleven-step skincare routine, and applied her everyday makeup, Hailey ran through her checklist for the morning in her head. She clicked her tongue and sighed, turning her head as she surveyed her work. Flawless, like always. Hailey loved to boast and when you were as hot and accomplished as her, bragging was easy. She was kicking ass at running the campus's most prestigious sorority and looking good doing it on a daily basis.
Someone ought to give her another medal.
Her first order of business was their weekly chair meeting. It was the easiest to schedule first
because, as her direct underlings, she could force the chairs to wake up as early as she
wanted. She floated with her average angelic authority into the Conference Suite, the spooky,
overdramatic war room that housed all chair meetings. Hailey, naturally the first to arrive,
took her seat in the circle of high-backed chairs. Hailey thought the whole aesthetic of the room was stupid, but what could she do? The gothic décor had been like that for seventy-something years, and had too much tradition behind it to change.
Taylor, the house manager, was the first to arrive. Out of all the chair members, Taylor was
possibly the only one who worked harder than Hailey. The demure blonde skittered into the room, large box of donuts in hand, eyes fixated on the ground. "Good Morning, President Gray." She squeaked. Hailey rolled her eyes. Taylor was a grade-A Wuss. If it wasn't for her total lack of a spine, she would've been a shoo-in for president when Hailey graduated next year. But, instead, she just made an incredibly efficient steward.
"Morning, Peanut. Donut, please," said Hailey mildly. Taylor was a honey over vinegar kind of girl and Hailey knew that. No amount of yelling would get that girl to work harder. She just had to be coaxed sweetly and gently and she would do anything her superior asked. Hailey extended her hand and Taylor ran over and placed a small pink donut in her hand. She had the girl in the Mary Janes trained like a dog. If only all of the people in her life were as obedient.
"Good girl, Peanut." She said, patting the sister's head. Taylor smiled and took her seat at Hailey's left side, unpacking a half dozen binders and folders. The rest of the sisters filed in, only tall and dark Maura, the treasurer, was late, by about five minutes. Hailey noted her stumbling in with flat, unimpressed expression.
Today's meeting was mostly about the Halloween party. And, as per tradition, the brothers from their paired fraternity were trying to fuck over the sorority about this event as well.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Hailey, cutting off Tara, the Social Chair, with an impatient wave of her hand. "Let me get this straight, after we just funded and hosted the Neon Welcome Mixer, the boys want us to fund AND decorate for the Halloween Party as well? Did I get that right?"
"Well," said Tara with a pained grimace, clearly unhappy to be caught in the crossfire of the sorority and fraternity president, "He said that since they always have to do Homecoming and the Spring Formal, that it made sense for..."
"No," said Hailey flatly. "That wasn't the agreement. Party hosts fund the party. You can tell Mark to go fuck himself."
Tara gave her a look of nervous horror and Hailey rolled her eyes. "Fine! I'll tell him to go fuck
himself."
"The brothers are pretty shit at decorating though," murmured Grace, this year's Academics Chair. The girl gently stuck her tongue between her teeth and glanced mercurially up at her best friend and president. Hailey glared at her, then snorted.
"Whatever. We can decorate. But every penny is coming out of the Birchwood society's treasury," said Hailey firmly. Some of the sisters had an ingrained deference to their paired fraternity, and it was an important part of Hailey's job to act as the sorority backbone in many cases. Grace would be hand cleaning the Birchwood Society's tightie whities if she wasn't around.
The meeting wrapped up with a few various complaints and bits of gossip from around the sorority. It would have seemed frivolous to an outside observer, but it was an important part of dealing with issues in the house. The girls were willing to gossip about problems that they never would have dared to bring up as a formal complaint.
Hailey mentally flagged three issues as worthy of a follow-up. Sisters Reese and Jia were in a semi-serious spat over which one would get to date their skinny white pot dealer. A squabble teetering on the edge of a more serious fight if it wasn't quashed ASAP. Then Tara's concerning report from one of the new pledges named Claire. She bizarrely claimed that one of the Birchwood pledges had conducted a single-man panty raid while disguised in women's clothing. Luckily it seems Claire knew who the culprit was, so having his frat dreams squashed would be as simple as texting Mark. And of course, most pressingly, there was a rumor that it was fucking Vi who kept leaving sticky rings of Mountain Dew on the coffee table.
