Page 11 of Caged
My heels are unsteady on the gravel driveway, and I cling on to Ele’s shoulder for support. Freshman girls wearing sneakers bound past us, and part of me wonders if we’re too old for this scene. After spending a semester abroad and a summer in New York City, my tastes in nightlife have matured, leaving me with zero desire to attend another Sigma frat party. But whatever, we’re here.
Two powerful searchlights positioned in the center of the expansive front lawn beam massive halos onto either side of the house, making the familiar grey stone exterior glow. From the street, Sigma looks like a medieval castle. Colorful strobe lights create silhouettes of thrashing bodies that can been seen from the first-floor windows. If I were a freshman and didn’t know thetype of men living within the walls of this fraternity, I would find it intoxicating.
Ididfind it intoxicating once upon a time, but my naivety, along with my innocence, are long gone.
The girl we came with, Lana, marches straight up to the front of the line and says something to the stern-faced boy playing bouncer. He gives us an infuriating once-over before waving us past.
We walk through the two sets of ornate double doors and into what can only be described as the pits of hell. The Great Room is the first room you enter once inside the fraternity house, but there’s nothing great about this room other than its size. It’s a massive living room area with walls made up of dark wood panels that hold strange carvings. When Sigma isn’t having a party, tattered brown leather couches face each other in the center of the room to give the illusion of civility. When Sigmaishaving a party, like tonight, the furniture is moved into the adjoining room, and the Great Room is transformed into a dance floor.
Having danced in this room more nights than I can count, I thought I knew what to expect from Sigma after hours. Something about the atmosphere tonight, though, is off. It feels heavy and seedy like we’ve stumbled into an underground nightclub, and not the good kind.
Every single person around us appears obliterated, and that’s coming from someone who had more than her fair share of vodka sodas at Tommy O’s. Girls, who I assume are freshmen and sophomores because they look like babies and I recognize none of them, trip over each other while trying to dance. Some of the guys look to be equally plastered. Bodies writhe against each other like this is one big orgy, and suddenly our presence here feels very, very wrong. It’s not that we’re too old or too ‘beenthere, done that’ for a frat party. It feels like we’re observing something we weren’t meant to see.
Lana drags us through the Great Room and into the smaller, adjoining room where they’ve set up the kegs.
I turn to Ele, who has her back to me, fixated on the shit show we walked through.
“I think we should leave,” I say, tugging at her tank top to get her attention.
She turns around, and her expression reflects exactly how I feel. Viv steps closer, and the three of us form a small circle.
“What the fuck is going on here?” she shouts over the music.
“I don’t know, but I think we should go,” I shout back.
“Can we go to the bathroom first? I really have to pee,” Viv says.
I nod and try to get Lana’s attention to let her know, but she’s engrossed in conversation, and Viv looks like her bladder is about to explode. We walk through the maze of hallways until we get to the first-floor bathrooms and step into what is fortunately a short line.
“Kasey!” I hear Ele gush from behind me, and I turn to see Kasey and two other girls I’m pretty sure are also members of Delta Gamma exit the bathroom.
Kasey looks… out of it. Like Monroe, she has long, blonde hair and thick, black lashes that frame smoldering bedroom eyes. Unlike Monroe, who has deep, complex ocean-blue eyes, Kasey’s eyes are a light shade of vibrant aqua. She has the type of look people pay thousands of dollars to emulate.
As I look closer, I notice her pupils are unnaturally dilated, and as the oldest of three sisters, I feel the immediate need to protect.
Kasey stalls at the mention of her name and looks at Ele with muddled confusion. In fairness, other than Monroe, none of us have met Kasey in person since we weren’t here when shepledged. We’ve only seen pictures of her on social media and her headshot in the official DG announcement email sent back in January to welcome new members.
“I’m Ele. Eleanor,” she states, “I’m Monroe’s friend and also in DG.”
We can see the wheels turning in Kasey’s head, but recognition has yet to click.
“And this is Gabi and Vivienne,” Ele says as she points to us.
“Oh my God,” Kasey stammers, “You’re Gabi? Oh my God, Monroe told us about you. She loves you,” she slurs.
The other two girls standing beside Kasey start to fidget.
“Wait,” Kasey says, getting uncomfortably close, and I ready myself because I’m sure she’s a second from toppling over. “Have you heard from Monroe? Is she back? I really need to talk to her. Like really, really.”
“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry. Can I help you, though?”
“No,” she sways. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Let’s talk at our chapter meeting on Sunday. Will you be there? Or tomorrow,” I offer, giving her a way out. I’m not sure I should leave her here. “Here, give me your number and I’ll text you.”
She gives me a sad smile as I dig around my purse for my phone. “Please tell Monroe I need to…” She pauses to hiccup. “I’m scared,” she says.
“You’re scared?” I ask, my eyes flying up to meet hers. Her eyes glaze over, and I start to panic. “Why? What’s going on?”
