Handpicked Page 4

  "Where are they?" the girl with the cute haircut said, checking her phone. "We are so behind schedule, it's not even funny."

  I nudged Lindy and Hannah, and nodded toward their conversation.

  "Are you going to be able to calm down? Or are you going to be this feisty all night?" Sister President asked.

  "I can be calm,” the girl said.

  Danielle, who had hair the same color as Sister President, but much thinner and whispier, peeked over her shoulder, out the windows. "Seriously, Tammy, don’t be so uptight.”

  "We haven't even done anything wrong yet, and you’re already stressing me out," Sister President was saying curtly. It was the first time I'd seen anything from her other than pure bubbles and sparkles.

  “Yet?” I mouthed to Lindy, who raised her eyebrows at me.

  Tammy motioned to her phone, but Sister President and her blond shadow Danielle both shook their heads.

  “We’re fine on time,” Danielle interjected.

  “We shouldn’t be talking out here,” Sister President said, and the three of them swiftly set their glasses down and disappeared through a doorway on the other side of the room.

  Once the door had closed behind them, Hannah predicted, "Something's about to go down.”

  "Where'd the pourers go?" Lindy asked, glancing around.

  "You guys are weirding me out." I interjected. "Can't we just enjoy this? There's food and good drinks and we won't have hangovers. Maybe we should try to meet some of the other-"

  I didn't get a chance to finish. All the lights in the room went out at once, and the tall curtains lining the wall of windows fell dramatically in front of the glass, blocking out the sunlight. Someone shrieked, and a frantic hush fell over our group.

  A strong female voice grabbed our attention. "Get ready, bitches."

  A candle flickered, illuminating a face I didn't recognize. "Your new life starts now."

  FIVE

  Once there were only candles to light the tasting room, it went from pleasant and cozy to creepy and dungeon-like.

  "What the fu—" Hannah whispered.

  "Quiet, Hannah," someone in front of us hissed.

  Within minutes, our entire pledge class was organized in a line that went from the tasting room down a dark hallway. White, drippy candles were held by girls at the front and girls at the back, leaving the rest of us in darkness. It smelled like dust mixed with a bottle of wine that had been opened for a month.

  We were instructed to stare at the dim outline of the girl in front of us, like kids on a playground going in from recess. Our arms were to be stretched out, resting on her shoulders. Mine were on Lindy's, and Hannah's were on me, sweating. Around us the actives, who were now all wearing loose hoods over their dresses, flanked the brick walls.

  "Ladies," Sister President spoke from somewhere behind us. "It's with great pleasure that I welcome you to the next phase of your journey. Tonight, we will go deep into Iota Beta rituals, exposing you to some of the sacred truths of our organization. You will be challenged. You will be tested. We believe all of you have what it takes, but there’s a chance some of you may not make it through the night—”

  I gasped, but didn’t dare say anything.

  “—but, those of you that do will have a better understanding of what it means to be an Iota Beta."

  "But it's only the first day," Lindy whispered to me, her quiet voice shaking.

  "Quiet, Lindy," someone said from our left. Whoever she was, she sounded more secure in her bossiness than the girl who'd scolded Hannah.

  Sister President was pacing along the line now, nearing where we stood. Lit by flickering candlelight and casting a large, lumpy shadow against the wall with her hood, she spoke again. "It is at this time that I ask you to remove your shoes."

  There was stirring in the line, and active members immediately shushed us.

  "There will be no talking," our leader reminded us.

  I kicked my heels off quickly, glad to rid my feet of Lindy's tallest, strappiest sandals. The brick floor was cool and soothing, a welcome relief from the sharp angles pressed into my toes.

  "Thank you, Pledge Jill." Sister President said, gliding past me. "Ladies, Jill was the first to oblige to our request. How do we thank her?"

  "Thank you, Jill," the actives chorused in a serious, eerie monotone.

  A shiver went down my spine. "You're welcome?" I said.

  "No response is necessary."

  "What the fuck?" Hannah whispered again as soon as Sister President had taken a few steps. "It's about to get real."

  I didn't dare move or respond.

  "During the next phase of our journey, we require complete silence," someone else with authority spoke up. Perhaps the alum? Or one of the VPs, Tammy or Danielle? I couldn't tell who it was, or where she was in the hallway. "If anyone dares to interrupt the silence, your entire pledge class will face an equal punishment."

  "Please let no one talk," Hannah said from behind me. I didn’t dare shush her.

  There was movement at the front of the line, and soon the girl in front of Lindy scooted forward, then Lindy, me, Hannah and the people behind her. We trudged, barefoot, on a brick floor angling down ever so slightly. It may have been my imagination, but I swear the further down the hall we went, the colder it got.

  If I didn't know it was totally normal for wineries to have dark halls that could easily double as underground lairs, I would have been really freaked out. So, of course I was super sympathetic of my terrified pledge sisters who had never seen anything like it. Even I had to tell myself that chances were slim that we were all being carted off to some ritualistic torture chamber, and far more likely that we were just going to their barrel room or even their cellar, if it was big enough. And with all the expensive stuff they probably had in those rooms, torture was highly unlikely.

  Finally, the line snaked around a corner and into a huge open space with the high ceilings and cement floor of a warehouse. I'd bet my tuition money it was their barrel room, but I couldn't tell for sure since it was mostly dark, with the only light coming from the candles the actives were carrying. Everything behind us was covered in giant black sheets.

  They maneuvered us into a circle and someone passed by with a huge box, requiring all of us to deposit our purses and hand over our phones. In the center stood the alum we all thought was the winery owner, and two new women, all in black. An empty chair sat next to them with something on it that I couldn't make out in the dim light.

  I was tempted to grab Lindy, but I held back. For a few long moments, the women in the center only paced slowly, staring at all of us.

  Finally, one of them spoke.

  "You lucky bitches," she said slowly. "You are the luckiest bitches on your entire campus."

  "You all managed to get bid cards to Iota Beta. Iota Beta! Do you have any idea what you’re in for?" the second said.

  "Do any of you know what Iota Beta stands for?" the third chimed in. "Do you?"

  No one moved.

  "You may answer me," she said again, standing up straighter. "You may answer me and say Madame Former President at the end."

  "No, Madame Former President," we echoed. I tried to spot Jenna, but I couldn’t tell who anyone was. As Past President, would that be her in the middle of the circle someday?

  "Well, you will," the alum said slyly. The three of them were all pacing now, circling around the chair in the center of the circle like evil black cats trapping a baby bird. "You will if you prove yourselves."

  They all stopped suddenly. It was so quiet in the room, I could hear Lindy gulping back nervous swallows.

  "Who is ready to prove herself to the sisterhood of Iota Beta?"

  I tried to see what was happening around me without moving my head. Slowly, frightened hands began to rise around the room. Without thinking, I raised mine too. So did Lindy and Hannah.

  The women scanned the circle. "Good, that's everyone," one of them said, nodding in approval. “As it sho
uld be."

  "Behind you, every single active member of Iota Beta is watching your hands. If anyone's dips, if anyone flinches, if anyone even starts to shake, you’ll go first," the alum paused before adding, “We have something to show you.”

  For a moment, I thought I might pee in my dress. My body was so wound up, so tight with tension that I could actually feel my insides getting confused wondering what to do with all of it.

  With a sweeping motion, one of them lifted the shadowy blob that had been sitting on the chair. She held it high over her head, wiggling it back and forth. My first instinct was that it was a snake, but it only took a few seconds before I recognized it for what it actually was; a piece of rope. I forced my hand to stay high in the air.

  "Oh, shit," Hannah murmured.

  "This is crazy," Lindy whispered.

  "Do you know what it's for?" I said softly to Lindy. She shook her head so briefly that I almost missed it.

  "This is a rope," the alum boomed. Our circle stirred again, though not with words or voices. There were shifts in postures, shuffling feet, and a few coughs, but no hands came down.

  "Ladies, this is going to be a long night. This is the first of many experiences that the Iota Beta Sisterhood will present to you. As you've already heard, some will challenge you. Some will frighten you. All of them will contribute to your growth as a woman and as a member of Iota Beta.

  "You may put your hands down. Who wants to go first?"

  "They're not even going to say what we have to do?" I asked, my voice so low I wasn’t sure Lindy would hear me. Facing forward, she carefully shrugged one shoulder.

  A petite African American girl I hadn't met yet, who stood about six people down from me, stepped forward. "I will," she said strongly.

  "Pledge Gina," the tallest woman in the center said, extending her arms. How had she known the right name? "We appreciate your willingness to volunteer. For that, your challenge will be to remain in the Chair of Strength for only one minute."

  The Chair of Strength? That didn’t sound nearly as scary as I expected. Behind me, one of the actives snickered.

  "Are you allergic to anything?" one of the alums was asking Gina, guiding her into the chair.

  "Just pollen and c-cats," Gina stuttered. The candlelight flickered over her red shiny cocktail dress and its poofy skirt.

  "Okay. Not snake bites, though?"

  "I've never been bitten by a snake."

  The alumni positioned Gina's feet underneath her seat. One of them said loudly, "Whenever you’re ready."

  Gina held her head high. "I'm ready," she said. They tied her wrists together behind the chair carefully and nodded over their shoulders to someone behind the circle. All the candles in the room were blown out.

  Our hands dropped faster than textbooks from a backpack. Lindy grabbed my arm so tightly her nails pierced my skin. We stood together, shivering in the darkness. Neither of us dared to make noise or call any attention to ourselves.

  Something was happening behind one of the barrel stacks. I heard whispers and footsteps, and even a giggle. And after nearly a minute, someone shouted dramatically, "It is time!"

  "Hold it right there!" A male voice boomed from behind me.

  "Stop!" shouted another.

  My first thought was that it was fraternity guys coming to our rescue and for a brief moment, I wondered what the odds were that it would be the same ones who had the roses.

  Within seconds, active members were pulling flashlights out and shining them onto two police officers. There were no fraternity guys to be found. The circle of pledges broke, as many girls tried to scatter. The actives stayed in place though, blocking us all in. Lindy and I continued clutching each other, with Hannah leaning on me from the other side.

  "We received a complaint," one of the officers said, meandering up to Gina and the alumni. "We heard something was off about your party. I think we got here just in time."

  Gina looked back and forth between the alumni and the police. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but no words came out. Her hands remained behind her, still tied at the wrists.

  The second officer followed after the first. He had one of those big sticks in his hand, and he was rhythmically smacking it into his palm as he walked.

  That's when I knew.

  "Something's going on," Lindy whispered to me, still not understanding. "The actives should be doing something! Where is Sister President?"

  I started to smile, but I didn't say anything, I didn't dare call attention to myself. Next to me, Hannah laughed nervously. Our circle began to relax as one by one, each of us figured it out.

  One of the actives rushed up to Gina and untied her hands. More and more of them shined their flashlights on the men, and a set of lamps positioned around the room came on. From somewhere behind me, a vaguely familiar party song with throbbing bass started playing at low volume. The alumni had subtly made their way out from the center of the circle, leaving only Gina, who was more confused than scared by this point. She tried to stand up, and the taller of the two policemen put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

  "What's your name, young lady?" he said, gently tilting her face up by tapping her chin. The other man began to stretch his arms over his head and twist his neck as if he was preparing for rigorous exercise.

  "Gina."

  "Gina, did you know you're an IB now?" he said, turning to the crowd, speaking more at us than to her. He was a life-size Ken Doll, with a crooked police hat and a shirt so tight his muscles were practically ripping it. The other man was slimmer, but with an equally attractive face and skin about the shade of caramel.

  "No," she answered warily.

  "No?"

  "I mean, yes, yes, I know I'm an IB," she said, biting her lip.

  The volume on the song got louder and louder until Gina had to have been the only person not to hear it. Even Lindy finally grabbed my arm excitedly. "They're going to dance!" she whisper-shouted into my ear.

  "And then some," Hannah said triumphantly.

  "Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" the second man said to Gina, running his hand down her arm. With her other hand, she gripped her chair so tightly it was like she was afraid it would fly out from underneath her.

  The slimmer of the two men positioned himself in front of her and pried one of her hands off the chair. As he placed it on his own chest, someone turned the music up to full volume and suddenly Gina realized what was happening. She burst out laughing and clapped her free hand over her mouth.

  The dancer traced her fingers down his chest and near where his belly button must have been hiding under his shirt, while three actives rushed around the circle shoving fistfuls of dollar bills at us. "Get closer, get closer," the mass of sisters pushed us inward until we were a mess of cocktail dresses, make-up smeared by nervous sweat, relief and excitement. On the outside of our crowd, more actives formed an assembly line of bottle popping, pouring, and distributing. Within seconds, I had a flute of my own, finally filled with actual, bubbly champagne. I looked over at Lindy and Hannah, who were gulping their drinks and glancing around eagerly. Unable to think of a reason not to, I took my first sip of champagne.

  The men began to perform, spending only a couple minutes with Gina before escorting her back to the mob of us hooting and hollering and waving our dollar bills. They selected another one of my pledge sisters, this girl named Darcy with cute brown hair and thick, trendy glasses. Darcy was a bit bolder than Gina and by the end of the song, one of the officers had her bouncing in the air with her legs around his waist, one arm around his neck, and the other over her head. When she rejoined the crowd, her glasses were crooked and the lenses were fogged.

  With each new song came a new girl in the center of the circle, and another piece of their uniforms flung into the air with a dramatic flick of the wrist. I carefully avoided the hot seat, enjoying my vantage point from the middle of the pack. All the while, the actives continued to circulate, e
nsuring that our glasses were never less than half-full.

  Eventually the chair got kicked away and girls started actually laying on the floor and the men, who were shirt- and pants-less at this point, did these floaty push-up things over them. By that point, I'd had at least three generous glasses of champagne and it was getting hot in the barrel room. Though, once it was Lindy sprawled on the floor, it suddenly seemed like a great idea to lay down right next to her.

  It happened so fast, one minute I was watching and giggling with my friends, and the next I was on the floor and part of the show. Had all the stress over rush, all the prepping we'd done over summer, all the conversations we'd had, the outfits we'd picked out, the girls we'd met...had it all become this? I propped myself back up on my elbows, about to get up, but Lindy held my hand and roared with laughter. Two pairs of thick man thighs were clapping above our ears, and within seconds their hot pink sequined pouches were bouncing centimeters above our faces. I fell back to the floor, shrieking with laughter. I didn't get up.

  Looking back, I think I can call that moment the point of no return.

  SIX

  Once my turn under strippers’ legs was over, I knew I needed to take care of myself quickly, before I did something I regretted, got sick, or both. I waited until the other girls were distracted by the dancers performing a particular impressive piece of choreography, then I stumbled behind the wall of sheets draped around the room. As quietly as I could, I wandered around until I found side doors, which led me to a back hallway. And it was out there that I found the most awesome thing I could have imagined, pallets and pallets of plastic water bottles with the logo of the winery printed on the label.

  I chugged two bottles in the hallway, almost but not quite fast enough to make myself throw up. I grabbed a few more and snuck back into the party.