The smart, laidback student? The sexy, cool student? The aggressive, manly student?
I abandon every outfit idea with growing frustration. I only know how to be myself. I've spent two years telling narrow-minded students and staff members to fuck off. Suddenly, I have to dress to impress. Have I said how this is not my scene? Well it isn't.
In the end, I only end up wearing what I'd normally wear. I hate everything about this. I hate the secrecy, I hate the artificiality, I hate the prostitution. Because let's be honest, I am a whore on a street corner, giving sexy looks to passers-by, hoping they will pick me up. But on the other hand, maybe it's a small price to pay for my education.
I grab my diary and write, "Reminder to self: this is only temporary. Suck it up and smile."
I read the line three times and calm down. Just a party with the Sigmas. Just a party. I go to parties. Yeah, sure I do.
In other words, I go out when I start feeling really sorry for myself. And then I usually end up really drunk, and then I throw myself on some random guy. And I wish I could say that alcohol just makes me horny (which it does), but maybe it also brings out the fact that I feel lonely. But I'm fine with that because what is art without pain?
I leave the comfort of my home and sulk to campus after dark. I decided to just look normal, so I'm wearing dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt. That's normal, right? I immediately regret not taking a jacket; for some reason I thought I'd look more casual without one, but it's cold and I want to go home.
Suck it up and smile.
The campus is not quiet in the evening because it's Freshers' Week. The Sigma house, too, seems to be as busy as it was during the day. I walk up the stairs to my doom with some guy, probably another candidate, two steps ahead of me. At the door, there is that same huge Sigma again; he's like their goddamn bouncer. This time, though, he is standing there with another Sigma, and they are checking papers as they let people in. There's a small queue leading into the house. A queue. Like this is a night club when it's just the frat house.
In any case, I join the queue and shiver in the cold air. The guy in front of me immediately turns around with a big grin. "Hey, I'm Sisky," he says and offers his hand.
I take it with a small nod. "Ryan, hi."
"I can't wait to be a Sigma, man. You?" he asks with overflowing enthusiasm.
"Well, um, it's kind of hard to become a member," I tell him.
"Not for Sisky Bizz, dude," he laughs. His eyes are scary, almost maniacal in my opinion. "I'm starting my first year, Mechanical Engineering. Just moved in from Chicago, this place is insane!"
"Yeah," I reply. Sisky gives me a look like he expects me to say something, but what do I say to that? I just cough and look to the darkened square outside the frat house.
"So what do you study?" he asks me.
Oh, shit, right. Small talk, that's what he's waiting for.
"English Literature major, Creative Writing minor, third year," I mutter.
"Third year? And you're joining now?" Sisky asks me, and I nod. "I thought they mostly choose first years."
I stop, because I didn't know this. "Really?"
Sisky nods as the queue moves on a bit. "Yeah, to get maximum time as a member, of influencing the fraternity and contributing to the brotherhood," he lists like from a manual. "But don't worry about it, dude. You'll get in, I can sense it. Has any of your family been in Sigma Chi Beta?"
