Attending the mixer

Philip sat on the edge of the plush velvet sofa in the Theta common room, his knees pressed tight together in a posture that felt entirely unnatural for a guy who usually manspreaded across any available surface. But Vanessa’s body seemed to demand it, her thighs brushing against one another with a softness that sent distracting jolts of awareness up his spine.

Beside him, Jack, currently inhabiting the tall, athletic frame of Katy, was slouching with a careless disregard for sorority etiquette, legs stretched out, ankles crossed, looking bored out of his mind.

“This is ****,” Jack whispered, his voice a low, feminine rasp that sounded bizarrely like Katy but carried all of Jack’s impatience. “We could be upstairs right now, exploring the finer points of female anatomy, and instead we’re sitting here waiting for a PTA meeting to start.”

“Shut up,” Philip hissed, keeping his head down. He smoothed the hem of Vanessa’s denim skirt, his palms sweating. “We almost got caught. If we get kicked out now, we fail the pledge. We have to blend in.”

Blending in, however, was proving to be a nightmare. The common room was filled with other pledges. Girls who knew Vanessa and Katy. Girls who expected Vanessa to be bubbly, loud, and the center of attention, and Katy to be studious and sharp.

Instead, Philip was currently doing a convincing impression of a mute wallflower, terrified that if he opened his mouth, his lack of knowledge about The Bachelor, or whatever else these girls talked about, would out him immediately. He felt like an impostor in a skin suit, every movement clumsy and overthought.

“Hey, Ness!” a girl with blonde curls chirped, dropping onto the arm of the sofa next to him. “You’re being super quiet today. Usually, you’re bouncing off the walls before a mixer. You okay?”

Philip froze. The scent of the girl’s perfume was overwhelming, and he felt Vanessa’s heart give a traitorous little skip in his chest. It was the body reacting, not him. He **** a smile that felt tight on Vanessa’s glossy lips.

“Just a bit nervous,” Philip managed, pitching his voice to match the higher register he’d been practicing. “Big night. Want to be ready.”

The girl laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re hilarious. It’s just the Delta boys. But I know you’ve been drooling over Ryan Hale all semester. You’re finally going to make a move, right?”

Philip choked on air. Beside him, Jack snorted, quickly turning it into a cough when the blonde girl glanced at him.

“Right,” Philip squeaked. “Ryan. Definitely.”

As the girl wandered off to chat with someone else, Philip let out a shaky breath. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, catching in the loose hairs escaping Vanessa’s bun. The sensation was maddeningly ticklish. He reached up to scratch it, his fingers brushing against skin that felt softer than anything he possessed on his own body.

“You’re doing a terrible job,” Jack muttered, nudging Philip with his elbow. “Vanessa is a social butterfly. You’re acting like you’re at a funeral. And I’m supposed to be the buzzkill librarian type, right? Katy’s body feels way too restless for that. I feel like I need to run a marathon or jump someone’s bones.”

“Please don’t jump anyone’s bones,” Philip whispered back, eyeing the room. “We are already dangerously close to blowing this.”

He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s breasts against his arms as he crossed them over his chest, a constant, heavy reminder of the physical reality he was trapped in. It was distracting, disorienting, and confusingly pleasant all at once. The longer they sat there, the more Philip felt like they were drifting away from their original objective of stealing underwear, and getting sucked into a drama that had nothing to do with Delta Epsilon.

The chatter in the room died down abruptly as the double doors at the far end swung open. A tall, striking girl walked in, commanding the room with the kind of authority that usually belonged to drill sergeants or CEOs. This was the Head Sorority Sister. Philip didn’t know her name, but Vanessa’s brain supplied a flash of intimidation and awe that made his stomach knot.

“Listen up, ladies,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. She held a clipboard like a weapon. “Tonight is the mixer. For the sisters, it’s a party. For you pledges? It’s the gauntlet.”

A ripple of nervous energy went through the room. Philip shifted, the denim of his skirt pulling tight across his hips. He saw Jack raise an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“You want to wear our letters? You have to prove you can handle the social pressure,” the Head Sister continued, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Tonight, we have invited the brothers of Delta Epsilon. Your task is simple. You need to earn tokens.”

She reached into a velvet bag on the table beside her and held up a small, blue plastic coin.

“Blue tokens are worth one point. Most of the brothers have a pocketful of these. They’ll give them up for simple things. A joke. A dance. A drink refill.”

She dropped the blue token and held up a red one.

“Red tokens. Three points. These are harder to get. You’ll have to work for them. These require more enthusiasm. A kiss on the cheek won’t cut it. You need to make an impression.”

Philip swallowed hard. The subtext was thick enough to **** on. He glanced at Jack, who was grinning like a shark.

“And finally,” the Head Sister said, holding up a shimmering gold coin that caught the light of the chandelier. “Gold tokens. Five to ten points, depending on the brother. Only two of the Delta upperclassmen hold these. Ryan Hale has a few. Trent has some. These aren't given away for just anything. They’re earned by those willing to go above and beyond to prove their dedication to the sorority's spirit of… hospitality.”

The room went dead silent.

“You need between ten and thirty points by midnight to pass this phase of initiation,” she announced, her gaze sweeping over them. “The first five girls to hit thirty points get fast-tracked to membership. Anyone under ten points by the time the kegs run dry? You’re cut. No exceptions.”

Philip felt the blood drain from his face. Ten to thirty points. If he only tried to earn blue tokens that would be quite a few dances and jokes. And he sucked at jokes. And dancing to be honest. Fuck. That left trying for red or gold. He looked down at Vanessa’s small, manicured, delicate hands, and tried to imagine using them to earn a favor from a guy he sat next to in History class.

The nausea rolled in his gut. This was insane. He was a guy. A straight guy. And he was about to be thrown into a room full of his own frat brothers and told to flirt, dance, and potentially more to earn plastic coins.

“Dismissed,” the Head Sister barked. “Go to your rooms. Get changed. Dress to impress. If you look like you’re going to the library, don’t bother coming to the party. We won’t have you embarrassing us.”

The room erupted into chaos as girls scrambled to get to their rooms, chattering excitedly about strategy and outfits. Philip remained frozen on the couch for a second, his mind reeling.

“Come on, Ness,” Jack said, standing up and stretching Katy’s long limbs with a groan of satisfaction. He grabbed Philip’s hand and hauled him up. “Time to get pretty.”

Philip stumbled after him, his coordination still lagging behind Vanessa’s center of gravity. They made it to the sanctuary of the room Vanessa and Katy shared, Philip locking the door behind them the second they were inside. He leaned back against the wood, breathing hard.

“We can’t do this,” Philip said, his voice trembling slightly. “Did you hear her? ‘Hospitality' 'Above and beyond'? Jack, they want us to solicit guys for tokens!”

Jack laughed, kicking off his shoes and flopping onto Katy’s bed. He rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin in his hands and kicking his feet in the air behind him. The movement was so naturally feminine, so quintessentially girl at a sleepover, that it freaked Philip out.

“Relax, dude. It’s a game,” Jack said, grinning. “And honestly? We have the ultimate cheat code. We aren't actually them. We don't have the emotional baggage. We can just play the part and hook up with a few dudes, absolutely guilt-free.”

“It’s not a game! It’s humiliating!” Philip pushed himself off the door and paced the room, his hands flying up to gesture wildly. “I am not going to flirt with Ryan Hale. I am not going to let some frat bro grab my ass for a red token. It’s wrong. It’s weird. And it’s… it’s jeopardizing Vanessa’s actual life! What if I do something she wouldn’t do? What if I ruin her reputation?”

Jack rolled his eyes, sitting up. “You worry too much. Look, if it freaks you out that much, I have a better idea.”

Jack stood up and walked over to where Philip was pacing. He moved with a predatory grace that Katy definitely didn't possess on a normal Tuesday. He stepped into Philip’s personal space, looming over him slightly. Katy was taller than Vanessa, and the height difference made Philip feel small and **** in a way he wasn't used to.

“We bail,” Jack suggested, his voice dropping to a low, teasing purr. “We lock the door. We stay right here. We tell them we’re sick. And then…”

Jack reached out, his fingers tracing the line of Philip’s jaw. The touch was electric. Philip flinched, but he didn’t pull away. Vanessa’s skin felt hyper-sensitive, the nerve endings firing at the slightest contact.

“Then we pick up where we left off,” Jack whispered, leaning in closer. “We have hours, Phil. Hours to see what these bodies can do. Why waste that sweating downstairs in a room full of sweaty dudes when we could be having fun?”

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