Stella sat in front of the fireplace in the living room on Tuesday night, working on a drawing of Heath Bar. He was curled up on the chaise lounge with her grandmum, who had fallen asleep reading her romance novel Heating Up the Arctic. The cover featured a man embracing a woman on the snowy tundra, his parka unzipped to reveal a shiny, waxed chest.
“Now don’t move,” she whispered to Heath Bar as she used the edge of her charcoal pencil to shade his fur. The giant tabby cat’s eyes were half closed, his chin resting on his front paws. After the run-in with the Beta Sigma Phis today in gym, some relaxation time was just what Stella needed. She and Cate had spent the afternoon at Café d’Alsace, drinking cappuccinos and trying to figure out who was going to be the third member of their sorority. Cate had run down the short list: Celia Reynolds was sufficiently popular, but she didn’t go anywhere without her best mate Benna Matthews. Benna wore Sally Hansen acrylic nails and sometimes spoke in a fake British accent, which would have driven Stella insane. Amy Klentak was cute and funny, and didn’t belong to any one clique. But according to Cate, she had “major control issues.” They could talk about Chi Sigma and plan as many bloody meet-and-greets as they wanted. It didn’t matter. For now, it wasn’t a sorority. It was just Cate and Stella.
“This is all of it!” Cate announced, strolling into the living room with a cardboard box. It was overflowing with old clothes, photos, and a poster that said CATE SLOANE FOR PRESIDENT. Seeing Cate, Heath Bar jumped off the chaise lounge and ran out the door, his back hunched in fear.
Stella put down her sketchbook and sighed. A blank circle stared out at her, right where the cat’s face was supposed to be. Cate set the box down next to the fireplace and opened the grate. Then she began pulling items out with black iron tongs. “What is all that?” Stella asked.
“This,” Cate said, stabbing at a black and white Nanette Lepore scoop-neck top and tossing it into the fire, “is the shirt Priya got me for my birthday last year.” She watched as it burst into flames, the silk igniting instantly. “At least, it was the shirt Priya got me for my birthday last year. I’m purging.”
“What?” Stella got up from the couch, her stomach tight. Cate was holding a stack of old pictures that looked like they had been taken over the last ten years. One was of her and Blythe dressed up as yellow chicks for Halloween. They looked about six. “You’re not going to—”
But before she could go on, Cate threw all the pictures in the fire. A photo booth strip of the Chi Beta Phis curled and twisted, turning to ash. “It’s the dawn of a new era. All this stuff is bad karma.” She ripped the poster into pieces and threw that on the fire too. On the chaise lounge, Margot turned over in her sleep and coughed.
Cate picked up the old notes she and Sophie used to pass in seventh-grade health class (all folded into perfect footballs that read 4 UR EYES ONLY) and tossed them on the pile, feeling a little lighter. Over the last two hours she’d reread all the e-mails between her, Priya, and Blythe—the ones from fifth grade where they first planned the sorority. It had been Blythe’s idea to name it Chi Beta Phi (Chi for Cate, Beta for Blythe, and Phi for Priya) and Cate who suggested they let Sophie in when she transferred to Ashton the following year. She’d shuffled through the postcards Blythe had sent her from Greece this summer, which were written in code so that Winston couldn’t read them. Then she took out the cards from every one of her birthdays, the insides completely covered with writing. Every second of it was torture.
She didn’t want to think about her friends. She didn’t want to think about how Priya had helped her when she first got her period, stealing pads from the bottom drawer of her parents’ bathroom. Or how Sophie had made flash cards for her when she was terrified she wasn’t ready for the earth science final. She didn’t want to think about how Blythe was the only person she felt comfortable enough to cry to—about Emma sleeping in her mom’s room, or losing the sixth-grade election, or anything, really. She wanted all the memories to go away, to simply disappear. And this was the only way she knew how to make that happen.
She reached into the box and pulled out the last memory of Chi Beta Phi: the Madame Alexander doll her friends had gotten her when she played Annie last year in Ashton’s school play. They’d searched eBay for it for weeks, making sure to find one in mint condition.
“You’re getting rid of everything?” Stella asked as she peered into the empty box. She felt like she had swallowed a handful of gravel. Yes, she was happy she and Cate were mates now and yes, she was happy Cate was finally free of Blythe’s poisonous jealousy. But up until Stella moved to New York, the Chi Beta Phis were Cate’s whole life. It would take all of high school and most of university before Stella and Cate had history like theirs.
“Chi Sigma needs to have a fresh start—if it’s just you and me, it’s just you and me. No baggage.” Cate stroked the doll’s hair and threw her onto the dwindling fire, along with her stuffed dog Sandy. Annie’s glassy eyes stared at Stella as the flames died down around her. You! Stella imagined her screaming, This is all your fault!
Stella sat back down in Winston’s leather club chair, determined. If she hadn’t insisted on being in the Chi Beta Phis in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. She was the one who’d suggested the revote where Blythe had stolen Cate’s presidency. Then she’d told the girls Cate had blabbed their secrets—that Blythe had a spray-tan addiction, Priya was obsessed with dissecting things at science camp, and Sophie still played with Barbies.
She pulled her sketchbook into her lap. As she scribbled furiously, Cate watched the last of the Chi Beta Phi memorabilia burn. Stella knew she had made a mess of Cate’s ninth year. Now she was the one who’d clean it up. “What if,” she started, “it wasn’t just you and me? What if we were able to find the perfect third member?”
Cate shook her head, her shiny ponytail swinging back and forth. Kneeling in front of the fireplace in her pink plaid J. Crew pajamas, she looked like a small child. “How are we going to find a third member? We already went over our options—it’s useless.”
“We’re not going to find a third member,” Stella said, ripping a page out of her sketchbook and handing it to Cate. “They’re going to find us.”
CHI SIGMA [YOUR LETTER HERE]
Do you have what it takes to be in Ashton Prep’s hottest new sorority?
If so, come to the drawing room on Thursday right after school and tell us why we should choose you as our third member.
Bring your A-game, ladies—you’re going to need it.
*This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity brought to you by Cate Sloane and Stella Childs.
“This is perfect!” Cate screamed. “We’ll have the girls rush!” At this, Margot sat up, her thick blond hair falling in her eyes. She looked around in confusion, like she wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming.
Cate hugged Stella so tight she nearly cracked her ribs. News of the rush would spread faster than lice at a middle school sleepover. Girls would swarm Bergdorf’s after school tomorrow, fighting over the perfect Badgley Mischka dress for their first impression. She pictured a line of ninth-graders outside the Ashton Prep drawing room, their résumés in hand as they rehearsed their Chi Sigma pitch. I’m sorry, we need someone a little more…easygoing, Cate imagined herself saying, as Amy Klentak threw a temper tantrum over her immediate dismissal.
“Good work,” Cate said. As she looked at the flyer in her hands she imagined walking down the hall with her new sorority: Chi Sigma Theta, or Gamma, or whatever it became. It would never be Chi Beta Phi. Cate would never laugh as hard as she did when Blythe jokingly taped her nose up toward her forehead, making herself look like a pig. No one could comfort Cate as well as Priya, who was calmer than a yoga guru. And even Sophie was irreplaceable. Cate would always remember the “music video” she made on her webcam, where she lip-synched Fergie’s “Glamorous” wearing every piece of her mom’s diamond jewelry.
But Chi Beta Phi was over now. And if Cate and Stella’s new sorority was going to be the best at Ashton Prep, it would have to be more visible, more popular, and fiercer than Blythe’s. Cate clutched the flyer to her chest and smiled. She had put the Chi in Chi Beta Phi. She was more than up to the challenge.