I didn't see Holly again that semester. Nor did I see much of Marie, who, it turns out, met a guy at the very party where I had my encounter with Holly. She had started seeing him seriously and I didn't get much face time with her for most of that school year.
So, despite an exciting beginning, the rest of my year was shaping up to be pretty mundane. But that all changed when, around the middle of the Spring term, I received an invitation (in the mail--people still use that?) to the Delta Delta Delta sorority spring social. The envelope was embossed with the three triangles representing the Greek letter Delta and contained a nicely printed invitation on heavy card stock indicating the time and place of the party. On the back side was a brief hand-written message: "Hope you can make it! --Holly."
If not for Holly's message I would have thought the invitation was a mistake or even a practical joke. But for all her aloofness, Holly didn't seem like the type who'd go out of her way to make fun of someone. She just wouldn't go out of her way, period. And her personalization proved the invitation wasn't a mistake. But I still didn't get it. I had rarely seen Holly since my party, and then mostly just in passing with a quick (and somewhat sheepish) "how ya doin'?" So why she would make a point of inviting me to a sorority party was a mystery to me.
On top of that, the tri-delts were a very exclusive sorority. Regular schmoes like me just didn't run with their crowd. Athletes, rich frat guys--that was the tri-delt clientele. It didn't surprise me that Holly would be a member of Delta Delta Delta. Hanging out with the most fashionable girls and being seen with rich pretty boys seemed right up her alley.
The more I thought about it, the odder it seemed. Inviting me was not only a strange thing for Holly to do, I figured it might actually damage her reputation among her sorority sisters. After all, prestige in a group like that was accrued as much through who you knew as by what you did. Admitting that she knew someone like me would be a check mark squarely in the minus column on Holly's social ledger.
I set the invitation aside for a few days and tried to forget about it, but it kept nagging at me. I wanted to figure out what was going on but I just couldn't make things add up. I finally broke down and called Marie to see if she knew anything. She swore up and down that she didn't. She assured me that Holly had mentioned nothing to her and that, in fact, she had hardly spoken to Holly that semester because Holly was hot and heavy with a new boyfriend and didn't have time for any of her other friends. There was a poorly disguised tinge of bitterness in Marie's voice as she relayed this to me. But she urged me to go nonetheless.
"You'll never know what you're missing in life if you won't try new things," she cheerfully reminded me.
Ultimately, I decided to go. My curiosity over Holly's motivation for issuing me the invitation won out over my trepidation over hanging out with a bunch of snobby people who probably had no interest in knowing me. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was more than a little curious to find out what went on at a tri-delt social, around which vague but tantalizing rumors swirled.
On the night of the party I had a brief moment of anxiety as I wondered what the proper thing to wear would be. Having never attended a Greek event of any kind, I had no clue what protocol was. In the end I settled on my usual uniform: jeans, sneakers and a clean t-shirt. The 'clean' part was my one concession to formality. I also brought along a six of Bud. Never come to a party empty handed, my mother always taught me.
When I arrived at the tri-delt house it was already packed. I had to show my invitation and have my name checked off a list at the door. I was surprised they didn't use security scanners, too! I presented my six-pack to the two girls manning the security station.
"Can you tell me where I should put this?" I inquired, lifting the six-pack to their eye level.
They looked at each other like I had just handed them a dead lizard.
"Kitchen," one said, barely indicating with a tiny motion of her head in which direction that room might lie.
They turned their attention to a couple waiting behind me and I was dead to them forever more.
I made my way through the crowded living room back to where I thought the kitchen might be. Most of the guys were in jeans or casual slacks and polo shirts. At least it wasn't white tie, I mused to myself. The girls were dressed too variably to describe, but I did notice quite a number wearing what at first seemed like white t-shirts, but upon further inspection I saw were adorned on the front with three golden triangles and trimmed in red--the tri-delt logo. These were the hostesses.
I continued through the crowd and found the moderately populated kitchen. Off to one side were several kegs manned by a cute brunette in tri-delt garb. When she saw that I was carrying beer she called out to me.
"You can put that on the counter anywhere. Do you want a draw?"
"What is it?" I asked.
"Bud. The real Bud," she answered. "From Czechoslovakia."
Sure enough, I saw there on the keg a simple red logo that read: "Budweiser-Budvar".
"Yes ma'am. I'll have one," I said enthusiastically.
The brunette poured and handed me a cup and I ventured back into the crowded living room.
Despite my fears, I actually ran into a couple of guys I knew from my swimming class and we struck up a not-too-awkward conversation that centered on the upcoming March Madness basketball tournament. As one of them was waxing eloquent on the chances of our school's team I noticed someone waving at me across the room. It was Holly, wearing the tri-delt T, a short skirt, and black leggings.
I excused myself from the conversation and worked my way over to her. She was standing next to a tall, handsome, and thoroughly vapid looking guy dressed in a white Lacoste polo shirt, tan slacks, and penny loafers. Hey, stereotypes get started for a reason.
I thought she looked a little anxious as I approached.
"Seth, I'd like you to met Todd. Todd, Seth," she introduced us.
Turning to Todd she explained, "Seth's an old friend." She hesitated ever so slightly before the word "friend", as if she were unsure that was the right word, but Todd didn't seem to notice.
Todd extended his hand, gave me his "Nice to meet ya," and proceeded to quiz me on my major, study habits, origins and family life. I think he was about to delve into my dietary preferences when we were thankfully interrupted by another presence.
Standing next to Holly was a girl with stringy shoulder-length blond hair wearing the house shirt, a short pair of gold nylon athletic shorts, and cowboy boots. She was of moderate height and although she came across as fairly attractive at first glance, closer inspection revealed a somewhat flattened bridge of the nose and generally asymmetrical appearance to her face that marred the ultimate effect.
"Larissa, this is Seth," Holly said with audible apprehension in her voice, although vapid-boy again seemed oblivious.
"So this is Seth," Larissa said, lingering on the word "this" and nodding in my direction.
"So, Seth," she continued, "have you been enjoying our little get together?"
"Well I must certainly compliment you on your choice of beer," I responded raising my plastic cup, finding the only positive thing I could say.
"Well good," she said, looking at Holly.
The two exchanged some kind of knowing glance, then Larissa abruptly blurted out, "Have you seen the house? I bet not. Let me show you the house. Here, this way."
She grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward her. As we departed the little group Larissa leaned back toward Holly and I heard her whisper to her, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
Larissa practically dragged me around the ground floor, barely pausing long enough to describe one room before shunting me off to the next.
"This is the dining room," she said, pointing to a room packed with people, "and this is the rec room," she indicated at another equally congested space. "You've got a beer in your hand so you've been in the kitchen. And you've obviously seen the main living room. Time to go upstairs."
She got ahold of my wrist and led me like a dog on a leash through the crowd to a staircase. At the top was a long hallway with numerous doors on either side.
"These are the bedrooms. Two girls to a room. Bathrooms in the middle left and at the end. My room's here," she said, heading quickly to a door part way down the hall. She stood at the door and looked back at me, waiting for me to heel. Like an obedient puppy I followed her into her room.
