Page 37 of Love is Angry

I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve stayed home.

Maybe I’ll go to bed and wake up tomorrow. Maybe everything will be okay, then.

Maybe I imagined it.

Chapter 17

Madison

“Hazing weekend? You mean to tell me that it’s actually a thing?” I ask, pummeled by heat and frost concurrently and mercilessly as I am once again reminded that if I am to lead a fruitful social life in college, I must abide by the college rules—specifically, the unwritten ones about sororities, fraternities, and hazing rituals.

It’s my least favorite part, but Cornell University has an almost ancient tradition in that respect, and judging by Lindsey and Rita’s befuddled looks, I’d be an absolute moron not to partake. I wonder if that’s even a choice. Surely, I could file a complaint—listen to yourself! Snap out of it and get involved so you won’t die an old lady with too many cats!

“It is absolutely a thing,” Rita replies. She and Lindsey are standing outside my dorm room, dressed up in short khaki’s like kinky camp attendants, each with a bursting duffel bag on one shoulder. “And if you don’t go, you will forfeit your social life here. For good.”

“And you’re just now springing this on me?” I blurt out, trying to catch up with the implications of what a hazing weekend might entail here. I’ve heard stories, sure. Some good,some crazy, a few terrifying as hell, but people make stuff up all the time, especially when they want to impress new friends over drinks. Over a lot of drinks, specifically. Chances are that half of the things I’ve heard aren’t even true.

“We thought you knew,” Lindsey murmurs, looking slightly insulted. “Everybody knows there’s hazing in the first year of college. Jesus, what rock have you been living under?”

I can’t help but frown at her. “You two have a lot of nerve to even show up here, to begin with. Did Rhue send you? Whatever he said, whatever he wants, I don’t want anything to do with it, or with him. You know what, maybe it’s better if you both just stayed away from me.”

“Whoa, whoa, relax,” Rita replies. “We’re here because we’re freshmen like you, Madison. If we stick together, we’ve got better odds at coming out of hazing weekend with our chins up and our egos intact.”

“Why aren’t you sticking together with Rhue, then?”

Lindsey sighs. “We made a mistake. We actually believed his good intentions about you, but then one of the guys heard what he told you the other day, you know, after the match with Harvard. We’re sorry, Madison. Really. We thought we were helping you two get over whatever it is that happened with your relationship.”

“We were never together,” I reply, trying to keep control of my tone.

The girls exchange glances, then look at me with hopeful glimmers in their eyes. “Come on, Madison. I know how important it is for you to socialize, to step away from being an introvert,” Lindsey says. “You can’t skip the hazing. I mean, yeah, you could, obviously, but you’ll be missing out and, to be honest, it’ll be pretty hard to fit back in if you do.”

I’m taken aback. It feels like coercion, and it brings some nasty feelings into the pit of my stomach. Someone didsomething similar to me before. Conditioned me. Made it clear that if I didn’t let him consume me, there would be a terrible price to pay. Why do I feel cornered? It’s just Rita and Lindsey. I’m letting the past get the better of me, again. They’re right, though. People my age, they don’t easily forget nor forgive. College, much like previous forms of education, functions on a set of rules—a key one stating that participation proliferates acceptance.

If I’m to be accepted into this world, if I’m to step away from the old Madison, I cannot refuse hazing weekend. I have to buckle up and brave whatever storms the seniors at Cornell send my way. At least there’s that—the seniors and only the seniors get to haze the freshmen. Plus, hazing incidents have brought some strict regulations over the years, and from what I’ve learned, my school is one of the mildest.

“Okay, fine. But I need a few minutes to pack a bag,” I say. “What am I going to need out there, anyway?”

“We leave now, and we’ll be back Sunday night. That’s three days and two nights out in the woods,” Rita replies.

“Wait. What woods?” I feel my breath cut short. “Will Rhue be there, too?”

Lindsey shrugs. “Well, he’s a freshman too. They’re rounding up everybody across the faculties, Madison. I don’t think they care about your personal animosities.”

“I’m told it’s Ithaca’s Natural Lands down south,” Rita says. “I think previous college generations built some cabins in those woods. Not sure if for hazing purposes or to get drunk without the risk of getting caught. I mean, it is deep in the forest.”

“Oh, great. That sounds like the beginning of every slasher movie ever,” I grumble.

Half-an-hour later,I’m in the back of Rita’s Prius while Lindsey rides shotgun. We were given GPS coordinates, and my heart is the size of a flea as we leave Ithaca and the university behind. I’d planned on spending this weekend reading and preparing for next week’s seminars, but I suppose mingling with the “locals” is a better way to get through. The girls have made several compelling points as to why I’m better off joining them in this hazing endeavor. Doesn’t make it any less weird or scary, but nothing the seniors might throw at me could possibly be worse than the things I’ve had to live with for the past year.

Old indie rock plays on the radio while I gaze out the window. I can feel Rita’s eyes on me. Whenever I steal a glance at the rearview mirror, I see her looking my way. But she hasn’t pushed for conversation, either. It’s like she knows, deep down, that this conflict between Rhue and me is much filthier, much darker than he let on. I think she’s now aware that he underplayed the gravity of that conflict solely so he could mess with my head and get within striking distance of me.

“I think we’re gonna see Cameron out there, too,” Lindsey says after a short break. She’s been running her mouth since we got into the car, but I don’t mind. I guess she’s a little nervous. Like Rita, she understands how Rhue fooled them both. This is her way of making it up to me. Yapping nervously about everything and everyone. “He’s a freshman, right?”

“Mhm,” I reply.

“Well, I’m glad he apologized to you, Madison. Cameron seems like a great guy. Unlike Lindsey and me, he never bought into Rhue’s bullshit.”

“Whew, potty mouth!” Rita giggles.

---