Fourteen

“I’m sorry, Annie. I just thought you’d rather hear it from a friend than…”

“Than from an enemy?”

“Than an impersonal committee. That’s how it will happen. No one will admit they wanted you booted off the Panhellenic Committee. It will just be announced as a decision by consensus. They’ll tell you, ‘Personally, I hate this, Annie, but it’s necessary for the sake of the…whatever.’ No one will take credit for it, but everyone will be behind it.”

“Including you, Steve?”

“No, of course not me,” he said. “But I can’t fight the whole committee.”

“Yeah. Well, see you around.”

“Annie—wait!”

She was already out the door. She didn’t have to listen to another word of this crap to know what was really going on. And Steve Moricoli did not need to see her cry. That would totally destroy her image, whatever image she had left.

She stopped at a fountain and splashed water all over her face. It felt good, showering her face with water and tears. What a smarmy jerk Steve was, trying to play the hero with her. He was probably as much behind it as any of them. Panhellenic Coordinator—what kind of a job was that? The man was in his mid-thirties and he still spent his days screwing around with fraternities and sororities, for God’s sake. When was he going to get a grown-up job like the rest of the world?

After drying her face, she headed across campus, back to the Greek quarter. She felt better now, cleansed. What a pack of lies anyway. The good of the committee. The fact of the matter was, Steve Moricoli was still angry because she wouldn’t go upstairs with him at that Sig Alph party last year. Vindictive little worm. It took him the better part of a semester, but he finally managed to exact his petty little revenge.

“We’re concerned that all your outside commitments—UOSA, the Anderson campaign, and so forth—are mitigating your effectiveness as a member of the Committee.”

That was the party line. And it was all a crock. The only commitment they were concerned about was her commitment to Mark. Because she had the audacity to date someone outside the Greek system—and because they suspected more was going on than mere dating—they were cutting her loose. Bad enough that she’d actually missed eight functions (horrors!), but illicit sexual activity with someone not in the club was absolutely forbidden. So she was going to lose her position on the Panhellenic Committee, which would probably mean she’d be busted out of the Theta house, which would mean she’d lose her seat in the UOSA…

It was an ever-accelerating downward spiral, and the end result would be that all her plans, hopes, and career goals would be snuffed out of existence. Everything she hoped to accomplish, gone. All the good she wanted to do. All down the toilet. And for what? Mark?

She ran through the Theta house and up to her room, then closed the door and threw herself on her bed.

Anona wasn’t in, thank God. She really, really, really wanted to be alone to think. How could your entire life change so drastically in just a couple of weeks? How could she have known what would happen when she started up with Mark? And if she had known…well, it was best not to even think about it now. What’s done is done, that’s what her father always said.

And after all, Mark was great. He was special. Somehow he made her life more significant. But he was so…absorbent; everything around him seemed to surrender its own identity. She didn’t want to end up like Bobby, a nice guy lost in an enormous shadow. Every time she saw Bobby, he had acquired another trait, another mannerism—someday he would be more like Mark than Mark himself. Bobby was sweet, deep down, and he had a lot of potential; he just needed someone to yank him out of the shadow. And she had to make damn sure she didn’t end up just another blot in the shadow herself.

The phone rang, startling her. She knew she shouldn’t answer it, but she couldn’t help herself. Must be some flaw in her character, she thought, or a weird by-product of her mother always telling her to “put on a happy face.” No matter what.

“Yeah”

“Annie? This is Ron. I just found out Steve told you. Stupid bastard, always trying to one-up everybody. We agreed we were all going to talk to you together.”

“It’s no big deal, Ron.”

“I think it is. This is so like Steve—sneaking around behind everyone’s back and trying to make himself Mr. Wonderful.”

And how is that different from you, Ron? “Really, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, it pisses me off. You’ve put in a lot of work on Panhellenic, and it’s not right to suddenly just give you the shaft.”

“I don’t feel like talking about it right now, Ron.”

“Okay, sure. I just wanted you to know I’ll be pulling for you. But I can’t fight the whole committee!”

“Sounds familiar.”

“You know, Annie, if you’d start coming to functions again, I think it would go a long way. There’s a big Fiji bash tonight. Why don’t you come? It wouldn’t have to be any big deal. Just put in an appearance.”

“And bring my date?”

“Hell, Annie, you know how some of these people feel about bringing dormies to frat parties.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Hey, I’d be happy to escort you myself. You know, just to help you out.”

Uh-huh.

“Just a casual thing. To make sure you get there, get seen by the right people…”

On your arm, right? “I’m sorry, Ron. I don’t think so. Look, I’ve really got to go….”

“Okay. Well, call me if you change your mind.”

“I will.” She disconnected the line, relieved. She thought about calling Mark. But what would she say? He’d tell her to quit it all—Panhellenic, UOSA, the works—as he had so many times before. He just didn’t understand. And he’d want to come over, to talk, to comfort her. And they’d start kissing, and before long they’d be smack up against the same old problem….

It wasn’t that she was superreligious. She wasn’t. It wasn’t that she was worried about what parents or neighbors or the frigging Panhellenic Committee would say. Not really. Hell, they probably already assumed she and Mark were sleeping together. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Mark that way. It wasn’t that she was saving herself for marriage or anything medieval like that. It was just…

What? She didn’t know what it was. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. It certainly wasn’t as if she was a virgin or anything. Todd Branstetter took care of that, junior year in high school. What on earth had she thought she was doing? Of course, that was the problem. She hadn’t thought; it was all his idea. But she was the one who had the abortion. He didn’t even show up.

She covered her eyes with her hands. That was the single most revolting, invasive…empty feeling of her entire life. Afterward, she practically buried herself, in a tomb of Seconal sleep. Never again.

But Mark deserved some kind of explanation. If they were going to be the perfect couple, she was going to have to stop acting so damn weird. And she had to tell him something. Just as she had to tell the Greeks and the Committee and the UOSA—something.

But never again. No matter what, never again.