I am blissfully drooling on my pillow when the ringing of my mobile wakes me up. I blink in confusion and pull myself off the mattress a little. My mouth tastes horrible as I fumble to find my mobile from the floor.
"Hello?" I croak into the phone, disappearing under the duvet. I cover my eyes with my hand and fight off the hangover.
"Ryan! Talk to me, man."
I frown and rise to lean on an elbow. "Who is this?"
"Who do you think? Pete!" comes a reply, and I realise that the voice does, indeed, belong to my so-called employer. "It's been a couple of days, so how's it been? I know you've been to the Sigma house every night, but I thought I'd ask you personally."
"Uh, look, you woke me up, so can you... call me back in thirty. Is that cool?" I ask. Pete grudgingly agrees, and I head for a shower.
I try to figure out what day it is because my memory is not really helpful. In all honesty, the past few nights have blurred into one major mess of me sitting on couches in the Sigma common room, drinking beer, talking to Sigmas and candidates, drinking more, talking more. I've talked to Spencer the most since he just seems unwilling to let me leave his side. But admittedly, Spencer has helped me a lot. I think he wants me to be accepted. I might be talking to some guy I've never met, and Spencer will whisper "surfing" in my ear. I'll say, "So, Gregory, do you like to surf?" and it always turns out I've mentioned their favourite topic in the world.
It's cheating, I'm pretty sure of that. But I am also pretty sure that, against all odds, I am doing alright. True, the past few days, I've been kind of drunk. Constantly. But William said it's not always like that, it's just rush week that's to blame. And secondly, I've behaved myself. I mean, yeah, the more I drink, the more I let Spencer invade my personal space, but it's not like it means anything.
The first night was relatively tame, but the night after that I couldn't hear my voice over the loud music, not to mention that the sudden appearance of beer kegs made sure I was smashed by the end of the night. It's been a pretty intense ride since then. Mostly, it has just been Sigma members and candidates, but last night other students were allowed in the frat house, girls mostly. The atmosphere got wild with slutty girls there; I saw much more heterosexual action than I would have cared to. A guy danced on the dining table, and there was some streaking going on too. In my drunken state, I groped a boy walking past me, but just a little bit! He didn't even mind, though, just chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows at me. I've also ended up kissing Spencer on the cheek and slurring how much I like him.
I hate to admit it, but I've been having a good time. There's such a sense of... brotherhood. I know, it's cliché, and I never thought I'd want anything to do with it. But I was an only child, so I've never experienced anything like it. I really hate admitting it, but maybe the whole fraternity thing isn't as ridiculous as I thought. I mean, I don't hate it. That's something, right?
After a shower and breakfast, I make myself comfortable on the old armchair by the attic window. I am scribbling in my diary and drinking morning coffee when Pete calls me again.
"Tell me everything," he says, and I have a feeling he is making notes at the other end of the line.
"Alright," I shrug and begin to tell him all I can think of. I tell him everything from the common room portraits to the snacks they've served. I quote the speech given by Patrick the first night, suggesting we all get to know one another this week. Pete says "hmm" and "aha" every now and then and stops to ask questions.
After a while he asks, "What about Brendon?"
I hesitate. "Well... I've introduced myself to him."
