Premature Evacuation (Underground Sorority #1)

  Premature Evacuation

  Copyright © 2015 Rachel Shane

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electrical or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage or retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Hanna James

  Interior design and layout by Rachel Shane

  To my Delta Gamma girls,

  For being my sisters but also my lifeline.

  Click here to join Rachel’s mailing list, be the first to hear about new releases, and receive a free short story prequel set in the Premature Evacuation world.

  PREMATURE EVACUATION. (n)

  Definition: the act of ending something potential too soon, including but not limited to: relationships, sororities, and opportunities.

  See also: Mackenzie Shaffer’s sophomore year at Throckmorton University.

  “QUIGLEY’S?” I SAID, PRESSING the phone to my ear and grinning at Bianca Cruz’s excited squeal vibrating from the speaker. My pale blue blanket, the only thing I’d unpacked so far, rose like mountains on either side of my bent knees.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?” Bianca gasped. “That Miss Anti-Breaking-The-Rules has gotten herself a fake ID?”

  “And an empty dance card.” The inside joke from last year’s Woman’s Studies class felt like home on my lips, even more so than the iced latte freezing my hands from my favorite coffee shop and the folksy rock song blasting from someone’s dorm room nearby. “Besides, I considered the ID an art project. My professors would be so proud.”

  Over the summer, I’d made myself a fake ID using passport photos, Photoshop, and a poorly scanned Vermont license I found on the internet. I laminated it with a plastic case I bought off eBay and my ceramic hair iron.

  What if it didn’t work? My subconscious was so unhelpful sometimes. I glanced at my suitcase, filled to the brim with sexy bar clothes I never bothered to break in last year, tags still dangling from all of them.

  “Like I said last week, breaking up with that jerkface is going to be the best thing that ever happened to you,” Bianca said.

  I nodded into the phone, biting my inner cheek to combat the tears that had been falling faster than rain during a nor’easter. But this time, they didn’t come. Possibly because my new mantra—he made you miss out on too much, don’t miss him—was finally starting to sink in. I’d spent all last year sitting in my room, little earbuds shoved into my ears as we chatted on Skype while the rest of my sorority sisters went to party after party. This year I was determined not to miss out. On anything.

  “So you better be at the house at eight,” she said. “We’re Happy Hour-ing it up!”

  I dressed in my hottest unused outfit: a black mini-skirt, low-cut sparkly top, and knee-high boots. With a shaky hand, I overdid my makeup, dotting my eyes with too much silver sparkle. My sepia-colored hair spilled over my shoulders in curly waves. I blew a kiss at my roommate’s empty bed. She still suffered from the same syndrome I came down with last year: boyfrienditis. Though in her case he went to the same school and the start of classes was her cure, not her symptom.

  There was a spring in my step as I strutted to Rho Sigma, the sorority house I pledged last year to make friends and then promptly shuttered away into my dorm room before I could hang out with any of them. The sprawling mansion with brown shutters and yellow shingles made my stomach swirl, though I wasn’t sure if it was excitement or leftover dread from last year’s mind-hazing rituals. I bounded up the steps but the door swung open before I could punch in the alarm code.

  Bianca’s large green eyes widened at the sight of me. “Whoa, Mackenzie! You’re way overdressed.” She pushed her long caramel-highlighted dark hair behind her ear. “Happy Hour is normally a jeans and sneaks kind of event.”

  A curse welled in my chest in the form of Ryan’s name. This was his fault, too. If he hadn’t kept me cooped up in my dorm all last year, I’d have known these little college nuances. Still, I shrugged. “Then I’ll stand out nicely.”

  “I like the way you think.” She poked her head back inside the house, a cold blast of air conditioning sneaking out. “Erin, you ready?”

  Erin Behr slid out the door. “For Corey’s? Do I have to be?” A side-part split her sleek, brown bob into sections. She walked with perfect posture, the contours of her body creating sleek lines.

  I followed after them, my stilettos clicking on the concrete. “Corey’s?”

  “Oh yeah.” Bianca waved her hand through the air dismissively. “Change of plans. We’re pre-gaming in Corey Taft’s room first.”

  We turned in the direction of fraternity row. Brick mansions lined the street in dark colors, Greek letters affixed to the front acting as the only decor, unlike the neat landscaping of sorority row. Loud music blasted from each house as if they were in competition to play the best songs. Guys in jeans and flip flops lounged on the grass, tossing back both volleyballs and beers. “Which house is he in? Are they having a mixer?” I glanced around at the mostly empty sidewalk, no troops of girls following in our wake.

  “Beta Chi Lambda,” Bianca said like that explained everything.

  Oh, only the most popular frat on campus with the reputation for having preppy guys that knew how to party hard. “Does he know I’m coming?” My words came out as a high-pitched squeal, which only made me paranoid that Bianca and Erin could tell how nervous I was. I’d been in college for a full year and so far I’d learned nothing. At least nothing useful…like social skills when it came to the foreign subjects known as guys.

  “He probably won’t mind,” Erin said.

  Probably.

  We waltzed into the open foyer as if we, too, lived there. My heels made divots into the already scuffed hardwood floors. Stained leather couches rested along the far walls, leaving the rest of the space open for drinking games. A folded ping pong table waited in the corner for Beirut players. We stomped up the stairs receiving only head nods in return from passing guys. When we reached one of the rooms on the second floor, Bianca didn’t bother to knock, just pushed it open and flourished her arms. “Honey! I’m home.”

  I crept into the giant room as if I were entering a lion’s den. My entire dorm room could fit in the space two to three times over. Two queen-sized beds were squeezed into alcoves that seemed to have been built for the specific purpose of housing them. A dormant, stone fireplace jutted out between the two alcoves and blocked the view from each bed. Twisted comforters rivaled piles of laundry for messiness. Empty bottles littered the room in a haphazard manner, the room reeking of stale beer and body odor. Paint peeled from the walls in intricate patterns, evidence that the fraternity spent more money on booze than on upkeep. The guys must have arrived yesterday because there was no way they could have done that much damage in only a few hours.

  In the center of the room, a few guys jerked side to side with video game controllers in their hands. They wore sweats but somehow this suited them, like it was a uniform. I tugged on my mini-skirt, pulling it lower, then crossed my arms to hide my over-dressed top.

  The guys ignored us, yelling obscenities at the TV screen. Bianca placed a hand on Erin’s shoulder and pouted.

  “All right, I guess we’re going to leave!” Erin shouted.

  The guys continued playing, though I thought I caught t
he corners of the scruffy boy’s mouth curl into a smirk.

  “I’m stealing all your alcohol on the way out!” Bianca trilled. The girls didn’t make an attempt to move. But neither did the boys.

  The girls turned to me with brows raised. My turn to sing my siren song and coax the boys to look at us.

  I took a deep breath. “We’re getting naked!”

  The guys dropped their controllers at once, but only one swaggered over to greet us. He was tall and lanky with biceps that could only come from lifting kegs, not weights. His dark hair jutted out in a matrix of spikes, and a thin layer of scruff coated his chin. He had puffy lower eyelids and thin almond-shaped eyes that made him look like he either hadn’t slept at all…or maybe just woke up. Bianca and Erin gave him big hugs.

  The guy broke his embrace from Bianca and turned to me. “You’re still wearing clothes. I feel lied to.” His smile flattened as he shook his head. “Not cool.”

  Bianca gestured to me like a model selling a car. “Corey, this is Mackenzie. The girl I told you about last year?”

  My eyes flew to her in a panic. What did she say?

  Corey looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mac.”

  I opened my mouth to correct the name, but then snapped it shut. I liked the way the nickname—one I never used—sounded on his lips.

  “You joined a good house. Rho Sig has my fave girls in it.”

  Bianca’s entire face lit up. “All the girls? Or just this one.” The way she batted her eyelashes at him could only mean one thing: out of all the fraternity guys in all the schools, this one was her favorite. Too bad for me…he had an adorable smile.

  He wielded that smile into something that could only be described as mischievous. “Don’t get too excited, Bianca. I only like you girls because you’re the easiest.”

  Bianca scoffed and pushed him. Hard.

  Without so much as a flinch, he took a sip from his red plastic cup and gave a raspy laugh. “I’m just fucking with you.”

  Corey’s comment about Rho Sigma girls made my fingers shake. I wasn’t a virgin but I was definitely virginal. I used to think that was a virtue…but maybe it was a problem.

  Corey gestured for us to follow him onto the spacious balcony. One by one, we climbed through the window. Just to prove Corey’s comment wrong, instead of climbing face first with my butt exposed to the room like everyone else, I sat on the sill sideways and carefully slid one leg through at a time, like a real lady mounting a horse in the Renaissance. Once outside, Corey poured us each a beer from the keg that rested on the wooden planks. A cool breeze made the fluffy green trees sway in the background, the leaves clinging to the branches for dear life before winter descended as early as September and turned everything colorful to murky gray. Stupid Upstate New York.

  Erin spun around, perching her hands on her hips, her arms bent at perfect right angles. “Wow, how’d you score this room?” She leaned into me. “Last year his room was barely big enough for a twin bed and a place to stand beside it.”

  Corey shrugged. “No one wanted a double. We’re lucky bastards.”

  Bianca rubbed her arms. “You guys, I’m cold. Can we go back inside?”

  I tipped my cup back and downed some beer to combat the goosebumps popping along my arms. From the cold, I told myself.

  “No, you gotta see something first. Look down.” Corey laughed, rubbing his palm along the back of his neck.

  All three of us set our beers on the ledge and peered over. Dots of white debris littered the lawn like clamshells strewn across a beach.

  “What is that?” Erin asked.

  “Dishes.” Corey wore a sheepish grin.

  “Corey! That’s so disgusting. Ew, I’m going inside.” Bianca smacked him across the arm before she retreated into the room.

  “You guys are so lazy.” Erin shook her head at him. “Is it that hard to walk downstairs and put them in the dishwasher?”

  “This was more fun.”

  “Animals,” Erin said. “We’re friends with animals.” She stepped back from the ledge with hands raised in the air as if she wanted to avoid touching anything else.

  “Noted.” Corey turned to me, brow raised. “I’m awaiting your verdict.”

  I took a sip of my beer, but I could hardly taste it. I was a wax figurine at Madam Tussaud’s, a lifeless replica of myself. “I actually did something similar last year for the freshman art show. An installation piece. Broken every day objects scattered across the exhibition hall to represent daily obstacles we face in life.”

  Corey blinked at me. My heart leaped into my chest. Oh God, my stupid mouth started talking about my stupid art again. I had to stop doing that, at least outside my art criticism classes. For some reason I never led with the one fact people actually found cool: I was a 3D animation major. At least that topic usually led to discussions about which movie had the sickest visual effects. But then Corey raised his arm in cheer. “See? She gets it. That’s exactly what I was going for: broken china as a representation of how fragile our reality is.”

  I chuckled. He did get it.

  “Oh! We got a smile out of you!” He pointed his beer at me.

  My smile grew wider. Ugh. Being in a serious relationship for three years had made me too susceptible to cheesy pick-up lines. I pushed my auburn hair behind my ear and squared my shoulders. “Only because I’m picturing you painstakingly picking up ceramic scraps tomorrow. In the rain. While shirtless.”

  He raised a brow. “I’m going to be shirtless tomorrow?”

  I bit my lip. I should not have said that. Especially if my suspicion was correct and Bianca liked him. “I’m presuming you would try to show off,” I countered instead of saying what I wanted to say: hopefully.

  “She’s right, you better clean it up yourself!” Inside the room, Bianca’s heels clicked over the roar of boys screaming obscenities at the video game.

  Corey poked his head into the room and yelled to her, “Shirtless?”

  She twisted to one of the guys, looked away, sat on the bed, got up. Finally, she sighed, rummaged through Corey’s drawer, and came back onto the balcony.

  “I knew you couldn’t resist my charms for long.” Corey waved her toward the balcony ledge like an air traffic controller. “Should I start stripping now or…?”

  Bianca rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth quirked upward. “Actually, I just wanted to know if you guys were coming out with us tonight or not. The hour will not be considered happy for much longer.”

  Corey cupped his hands around the sides of his mouth like parentheses to yell into the room. “Hey Nate. Want to go to Quigley’s with three beautiful girls or are you just planning on hanging with sausage all night?”

  Beautiful. He called me beautiful.

  Plastic crashed as the guys tossed their controllers onto the floor. The one who must be Nate sauntered toward us and climbed outside. Bianca inched over to give him space on the balcony, her gaze directed right at him.

  “I assume the beautiful girls you’re referring to are not these three?” He waved a finger between us and snorted a laugh that toned down his attractive quality by several meters. His sparkling blue eyes, chiseled jaw, and shoulders that proved he knew where the gym was located on campus defined him as a pretty boy.

  “And just for that, we’re leaving. For real this time. Come on, ladies, let’s find some guys who actually appreciate us.” Bianca slithered back inside and stomped toward the doorway, her hips slapping the air with each sway.

  Corey pursed his lips and shook his head at Nate. “Is it too late to find a new roommate? Because the one I have seems to be defective.”

  “I’m with Bianca on this one.” Erin gave Corey a big hug. “Good seeing you again.” She offered Nate only a chin nod as she brushed past him to climb through the window.

  “Oh man, you got the cold shoulder from both of them.” Corey laughed. Nate followed the girls inside, leaving me alone with the guy who called us�
��me—beautiful. I started to follow Erin inside when Corey tugged on the back of my shirt. “What? I don’t get a goodbye hug?”

  He pulled me into his arms, his faint musky cologne scent engulfing me. His hold on me loosened, but I didn’t move from my spot. All of a sudden the entire revolution of the Earth depended on the tightness of his grip. He brought his lips to my ear, his warm breath sending shivers through me. “It was really nice meeting you, Mac.”

  “Mackenzie! What are you doing? I hope it’s not Corey,” Bianca called from inside.

  He laughed and pulled himself away from me, inching toward the balcony.

  Too bad he was exactly what I wanted to do.

  AFTER WE LEFT COREY’S fraternity and Bianca realized the boys weren’t joining us, she decided she no longer felt like going to the bar. But she promised we’d make up for it the next night. Of course, I messed up my outfit again. I dressed down in jeans, ballet flats, and a crew-neck top only for my mouth to flop open when Bianca sauntered out of the house decked out in a dangerously low cut body hugging dress and wedge heels. I couldn’t win!

  “Where’s Erin?” I rubbed my hands over my arms. Only two days back at school and already temperatures dipped below comfortable weather at night.

  “Studying. What the hell. She’s only had one class so far!”

  I bit my lip. My one class so far had dropped a hefty animation assignment on my shoulders already. I should really be in the graphics lab.

  Quigley’s was a cross between a homey family reunion and a trash compactor. Bodies squeezed into the narrow space, pushing each other for proximity at the counter. Darkness coated every inch, shading patrons in stark chiaroscuro. Every few steps Bianca ran into another person she knew—a Rho Sigma sister or a classmate—and exchanged both smiles and tall tales about their summers. Most people blinked at me as if trying to remember who I was. Music blasted, ranging from pop crap that must have contained subliminal dancing messages to catchy oldies the entire crowd belted out in unison. I bobbed my head to some cheesy song I would never admit to actually liking as we made our way to the counter.