An Invite to Theta

Dinner in the dining hall is a bit of a dull affair, until you see a brunette beauty sauntering in, followed closely behind by Tatiana. {if Imogen > -1} Imogen, catching your eye, gives you a wink and pulls Tatiana towards you.

“How’s my favourite stud-to-be doing?” Imogen asks, touching your shoulder in a manner that is all flirtation.

“He’s looking for a Saturday night haunt,” you reply. “Do you girls happen to have the fix for this thirsty boy?”

“Oh, thirsty is right,” Tatiana says, half-rolling her eyes. “But thirsty doesn’t do you any favours. We’ve got a party going on tonight, but that doesn’t mean you’ve got an invite. A real pity.”

“Especially because you know that Theta parties are the best parties,” Imogen says. She pauses for a second, lone finger still resting against your forearm, and you catch her eye. You see her hesitate, and then she grins. “So it’s a good thing that I’m giving you an invite to the party tonight—”

“Hey, I thought we were going to make him work for it,” Tatiana sharply cuts Imogen off, shooting her a deathly glare. But instead of wilting under that gaze, like any sane person would, Imogen merely laughs.

“Don’t worry, he’ll have to work plenty hard at the party,” she says, and just like that, the two of them are gone, leaving you wondering what it exactly is that they have planned for you.

{else}

“Hey, hey, the tasteless bugger’s out to play,” Imogen says, swinging by your table.

“Come on, you can’t still be jealous that I didn’t pick you for the dress contest,” you say, giving Tatiana a cheery wave. Tatiana’s cold expression doesn’t change in response to your greeting, though you think you see a hint of something flicker behind her eyes.

“Me? Jealous? Lol, what a notion,” Imogen scoffs. She glances quickly at Tatiana, who only smiles slightly in response.

“I think she’s still jealous,” Tatiana says. She looks over to you. “What do you think?”

“She’s definitely still jealous,” you say, and Tatiana nods, as if that settles it.

“Hey now and hold up, you two don’t get to decide that,” Imogen says.

“I think we just did,” you reply, knitting your eyebrows together, and Imogen shakes her head.

“Lol nope,” she says. “And I can prove it! Look, if I was actually jealous, then I’d be worried about you meeting a bunch of other girls, especially the ones that you picked over me, yea? So the only way to prove that I’m not jealous is to get you close to all of them again.”

You nod, liking the way that this is going.

“You’re seriously planning on—” Tatiana begins, but Imogen cuts her off.

“The Theta party is the best one in town,” she says. “And you’ve just scored yourself an invite. See you there.”

Tatiana shoots you a knowing smirk, and then just like that, the two of them are gone, leaving you wondering what it exactly is that they have planned for you.

{endif}

A short while later, you find yourself back in front of the Theta house. Some Lizzo song’s being blasted out through the windows, loud enough that you can see the ivy vines shaking from the bass. Out by the front door, a gaggle of sorry freshmen are huddled by the door. The ones by the front are arguing with the guy posted out front, but he’s having none of their shit.

“I swear I know one of the girls, her name’s Michelle, go talk to her, she said she’d let me in,” one of the guys at the front says, but the guy shakes his head.

“I’ve got my list and you’re not on it,” he says, crossing his arms. “And really, Michelle? You could have at least tried to pick someone who submitted a single name.”

The guy flounders for a second, giving space for another one to push up to the front.

“Yo c’mon bruh, you going to let me and my friends in? We’ve got four girls with us,” he says, all swagger.

The bouncer looks him over and looks at his list.

“You got a name?”

“Eric Schtump,” he says, and the bouncer shrugs. “Uh, that’s Kara Stevens, Jorge Caballero…” He rattles off a number of names, pointing to the various kids hanging around him, but the bouncer only shrugs after each with a bored expression on his face.

“Sorry, you’re outta luck,” the bouncer says.

You’ve been pushing your way through the crowd this whole time, and having finally made your way through the press of gangly freshmen, you find yourself facing the bouncer. You feel like you’ve his face somewhere before, but can’t quite place it.

“Hey, it’s Alex Knight,” you say.

There’s a beat as the bouncer scans down the list, and then he gives you a smile.

“Come on in,” he says. He opens the door a fraction, giving you a glimpse of the people moshing by the entrance, and you slip in as the people behind you surge forwards, trying to get into the party. The bouncer holds them at bay with an outstretched arm, and then a moment later, you’re inside, the heavy wood door slamming shut behind you.

The loud music, coupled with the thick cloud of weed in the air and sloshing Solo cups around you, disorients you for a moment as two giggling girls rush past you, one of them drunkenly crashing into you and apologising with a blown kiss. Not really knowing any better, you decide to follow them into a hallway, trying to find a familiar face.

Your attention is snagged by a guy cradling a bottle of vodka on the ground, his lips firmly sealed against the neck, and a girl next to him is shaking him. It’s unclear if she wants a drink or just wants him to stop drinking, but by the time you look up again, the two girls you were following have disappeared. Oh well. You keep walking along, seeing two people making out ferociously by a corridor’s bend while another guy raves alone, jumping up and down in time to the bass.

You’re really not drunk enough for this, but where’s the ****?

As you pass by another crowded room, a hand suddenly reaches out and pulls you into it.

“We’ve been looking for you,” the hand’s owner screams out, her words barely audible amidst the rest of the screaming. You look up into her heavily made-up face, and realise that it’s Imogen!

“What’s going on?” you call back. There’s a press of people around, clearly all watching something, and then you get a glimpse of a table lined with cups. You see a flash of that characteristic white ping pong ball, and it all adds up.

“Rage cup!” Imogen cries out, and you nod, having pieced it together just moments before.

The two of you watch as Tatiana bounces her ball into the cup on the first try, sending the seven-high cup down the table. You watch between the shoulders of two taller guys as a girl struggles to get her ball into the tall cup, but when she finally lands it, she pumps her fist up and sends the cup onwards…

Less than a minute, the final cup is stacked, and some poor dude who’s really been struggling to get his ball to stay on the table, much less into the cup, is consigned to the bitch cup.

“DRINK, DRINK, DRINK!” the crowd chants, and you see him make a face, lifting up the red cup that’s filled to the brim with all sorts of nasty beer. Then, he tilts the cup back down his throat, and he chugs like a king, downing the bitch cup like it’s nobody’s business. The crowd roars its approval, and somebody starts up another chant—“AN-THON-Y, AN-THON-Y, AN-THON-Y!”

He slams the cup down on the table, crushing it under his fist, and satisfied with the booze, lets out belch loud enough to rival the music thumping through the room. The girls near him collectively scrunch up their faces, and a moment of silence follows as nobody knows quite how to react.

Imogen seizes the moment, pushing her way to the table.

“You guys have gotten your fun, so it’s my turn to commandeer the table now,” she says. “Anyone down for four-way strip pong?”

There’s another moment of silence as Anthony, looking a little tipsy on his feet, lurches to the side, and then a wide smile splits his face.

“I’m in!” he cries out, and then he grabs the nearest girl next to him, saying: “And she’s my partner!”

Michelle, who happens to be the girl grabbed by him, shoots him an imperious look, but she stays by his side, locking eyes with you after a moment.

“Anybody want to play with me?” Tatiana says from her place by the table. A buff guy from across the room hops onto the wood table. He slides across it in style, knocking a couple empty cups onto the ground in the process, and lands on the ground next to Tatiana, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Sergeant Desmond, reporting for duty,” he says, giving a mock salute with his other arm.

“I’m calling Alex as my partner,” Imogen says, hooking her arm around yours. “So we’re just looking for one last team!”

You see Savannah standing by the side, cute to boots in her white t-shirt and jeans, and you make a waving gesture at her. She smiles, and looks around, as if to say who would be my partner?

“Savannah’s looking to pair up with someone,” you call out, and right on cue, a fine looking Asian guy taps her on the shoulder. Her face lights up when she sees him, stirring up strange feelings inside of you. The two of them, after spending a moment conversing, turn back to the table, and it’s clear that you’ve got four teams now.

“Rules are simple,” Imogen says, beginning to fill some fresh cups up with beer. “It’s like normal beer pong, but we go clockwise, and if someone sinks a ball in your cup, somebody’s got to strip off some clothing in addition to drinking. We’ll alternate stripping between the guys and girls, but idk, who should strip first?”

“Ladies first!” Anthony yells out, and Imogen cracks a smile at that.

“That decides it. Who wants to shoot first?”

Anthony’s hand shoots up, and Michelle gives you a wicked smirk, polishing the ping pong ball on the hem of her shirt as she readies up her first shot.

Michelle +5
Savannah +5
Tatiana +5
Imogen +5