Rush Sigma Phi

You get out of Brandon's car, surveying the large but otherwise fairly normal looking home in a Suburban neighborhood.

From what you understand, the Brothers own this house. Part of the frat dues go to paying the mortgage. They live here and use it for parties. As you examine the long driveway and imagine everything that people could get up to, here, Brandon circles around the car from the driver's side and stands there, his hands on his hips.

"Well," he says. "It'll be nice to live in a place that's not a dorm, but there must be a lot of guys, here. What do you think the fap ethics are?"

You glance back at him.

"I mean, everybody's gotta do it," he says. "Masturbate, you know. But you're in a house with like twelve other dudes. Do you put a sock over the door for yourself? Do you tell the other brothers, 'hey, can you take a hike, I've gotta take care of this?'"

"I live with you, and this is not a conversation we've had," you say. "And you know what? It isn't one that I want to have."

He is not discouraged. "Okay, but if you want to avoid a situation, we really need to--"

Thankfully, at this moment, a tall, muscular brother comes out of the house. He seems to ride a smooth current of motion, and when he reaches you he claps you on the back without abating. Somehow, despite the fact that you've never met him, this does not feel intrusive.

"How's it going, pledges?" he asks you both. "Name's Jordan, and I'll be introducing you to the house."

You say: "Great" at the same time that Brandon asks: "What are your fap ethics?"

Jordan gives Brandon a long, discerning look. Sending a universal message of please tell me that isn't what I heard.

Finally, Brandon says, "I mean. Uh. Also great."

Okay, Jordan has now earned some serious points in your book. With a smile, he says to both of you, "Come on in!"

You both follow your potential brother into the house, and find that it's been...mostly well maintained. A few **** splashes here and there, some strange smells left over (is that weed residue?) But for the most part, It's comfortable. A couch sits on wood flooring and Ethan rises from it, walking over to you. Past Ethan, at the end of the couch, sits {if Know Taylor = true}Taylor.{else} the beautiful black cheerleader you swear you've seen around campus.{endif}

Ethan stands up and shakes Brandon's hand, then heads to yours. He isn't finished before Jordan heads over to the cheerleader. She stands up with a smile and kisses him, right before he turns to you.

"And this is my girlfriend, Taylor," Jordan says.

{if Know Taylor = true.} "Oh, we've met," she says, with a smile, as the word girlfriend rattles around in your brain. She didn't show any...interest, in you before, did she? She couldn't have. Right? {else} "Pleasure to meet you," she says.

You smile. A stupid, selfish side of you wonders if joining this frat will give you the chance to end up with equally hot girls.{endif}

"Hey! Earth to pledge-brother! Ethan just told us about our first challenge!" Brandon shouts directly into your ear.

You are pulled out of your reverie, and drag your eyes away from Taylor's smile. "What's the challenge?"

Ethan repeats himself, patiently, his smile undiluted. "You're going out and inviting people to the upcoming Sigma Phi party. We've got a guest list. Think of it like a human scavenger hunt. By tomorrow, we'll be checking to see if you've invited all the guests by texting them. Clear enough?"

"Oh, crystal!" Brandon says, chipper. "Send us out right now!"

"We don't even know who we're finding yet," you grumble to him.

"I don't know," Taylor says, to you. "I like Brandon's go-getter attitude. I think everyone here could stand to be a little more determined."

Your gaze snaps over to her, and you find her smirking. Fuck. She knows exactly what she's doing, here, doesn't she?

"We're already prepared," Ethan says, and hands you and Brandon a guest list in the form of a notebook. You open it, and find that there are two rows of names and addresses. Single-spaced. On the first page.

"What. The. Fuck." You blink rapidly. "By tomorrow?"

"Go-getter attitude~" Taylor sing-songs.

"Okay, sounds like daylight's wasting, pal!" Brandon's heavy arm falls over your shoulder. "Don't worry. I am a transportation genius. You might as well call me The Flash, because I can teleport!"

"I don't know if he teleports, I think he's just really f-"

Before you can object, Brandon has swept you out of the room and out onto the deck. You are now headed back toward his beat-up volvo.

"Dude, you need to not let that chick mock you any more!" He says. "She's into you, but not if you clown around like this."

"Into me? What? You mean Jordan's girlfriend? Are you from another planet?" You ask, nonetheless getting into the car with him.

Brandon buckles himself up and turns the key in the ignition. "Mostly, I'm the manliest guy you'll ever meet."

He sits there for a second. You wonder if that's all he has to say, a complete non-sequitur.

Then he says, "But I've got the kind of intuition women envy. You're lucky she's taken. It means nothing that she's got eyes for you, and you humiliated yourself, back there. Anyway: How are we going to do this?"

You cut your argument short. Because he's right. You have a hard task to get to. As Brandon carefully backs the volvo down the driveway, you consider how, exactly, you are going to tackle it.

Brandon (Bro) +5