Claimed by the Soroity Daddy

Chapter 3 : Sober Sister

*Chloe*

Halfway through a streaming special on America’s most diabolical serial killer, H. H. Holmes, Sylvia intruded upon my domain. A rectangle of light blasted into the room, searing my eyes. I squeezed them shut and threw my arm up over my face as she barged into my room.

“Just as I thought, already in bed at eight o’clock on a Saturday night. For shame, Chloe, for shame.”

I rubbed my eyes and then flicked on the desk lamp. Sylvia had done herself up for a club, in tight sparkly pants and a furry white halter top. Her thick makeup and glittering nails made her almost look like an alien from planet glam.

“You know what you need, Chloe? You need to glow up and come out with the girls and me to Excalibur.”

“You know I hate 80s night, and quite frankly you’re only in here because it’s my turn to be Sober Sister. I’ll do my duty but don’t pretend like you’re doing this for my own good.”

“Ouch.”

Her face pinched up into a hurt frown and I felt bad. Before I could say anything else she sat down on the bed next to me and threw her arm over my shoulder. “Look, bestie, if I really needed a Sober Sister, I’d draft one of the freshmen into it. Two, it would be great if you provided a good role model for the aforementioned freshmen. Four…”

“Three, we’re on three.”

“No, four, I’m pretty sure. Whatever. Three, you’re only moping around in here because you haven’t had any action since what’s his name from the lacrosse team.”

I pulled away from her, aghast.

“Tharpe? You think I slept with Tharpe? He was a stalker, Sylvia.”

“Well, he maybe took it a little bit too far, for sure, but there are a lot of women who might like to be stalked by Tharpe. His family is political royalty, he’s worth a gazillion dollars, and he’s to die for handsome.”

“Yeah, and underneath all of that, he’s more like one of those things that go scurrying away when you lift a rock. I definitely didn’t sleep with Tharpe, no matter what he tells people.”

“Well, it’s even more vital you go out, then. You need to get some action before you like, get sucked into the shadows or something. Why is everything always so dark in here?”

“I like to be able to see the screen,” I pointed out.

“That’s bad for your eyes. Come on.” She grabbed me by the shoulders. “Come out with us. It’ll be fun. You’ll be sober so you won’t fall for any loser who comes up and tries to hit on you. You’ll get the pick of the litter.”

I raised a pointed brow at her. “And what, have him help me wrangle eleven tipsy co-eds? No, thank you. Tonight will be all about business.”

“Well, you can still give out your phone number and do the trout line thing,” Sylvia tried to reason.

“Trout line?” I sputtered.

“It’s something Alexander says all the time. When he’s trying to ‘diversify his portfolio’ he talks about putting out a trout line to see what catches on and what needs to be trimmed. You could harvest a bunch of guys who blow up your inbox tonight.”

“I don’t want a bunch of guys blowing up my inbox, Sylvia, sheesh. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

I slipped on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the cleaner side of my closet. It flattered my body well, or so I thought.

Only the AZN girls weren’t about to let me off the hook that easily. Connie had an LBD with sequins with no back, and she just ‘had to’ see me in it. I thought it was a little short on me, coming up to mid-thigh, but it grew even more so when Sylvia ‘lent’ me a fetish core belt harness that cinched my waist.

Towering knee-high patent leather boots came out of Sophia’s closet, which led to a lot of speculation and teasing about her pastimes. Sylvia did the bulk of my makeup, and when they finished, I was both horrified and fascinated with what they’d done to me.

“I look…I look…”

“What, hot? Great? Confident?”

“I look like one of you.”

Howls of laughter ripped through my room. I stood up from the chair in front of my vanity carefully, not used to high boots. “It’s a good thing I won’t be drinking tonight.”

More laughter, but then Sylvia threw her arm over my shoulders and whispered in my ear, “If you don’t get laid in this outfit, you’re a lost cause. Just saying.”

I pushed her away as she giggled mercilessly.

“I guess I’m driving?”

“Oh, hell no. Alexander sent a ride.”

I peered out the window toward the hairpin drive. I could just make out the taillights of a big vehicle.

We poured out of the sorority house, with me borne on the crest of the wave. Everyone seemed determined I was going to have a Cinderella moment. The truth was, I had no interest in some random guy I might pick up at a club. What’s worse? I was also afraid to meet someone who knew I had worked in the bar because they would make fun of it, just like Ned did.

But I couldn’t change Sylvia’s mind. Now I was glammed up, the equivalent of a bone slathered in gravy and tossed to the wolves of the nightclub. We rounded the green zone and came upon the hairpin at last. Our ride was a stretched Humvee in platinum paint with colored lights basically everywhere.

Sylvia came up and proudly gestured at what Alexander had provided for us. “Well, what do you think?”

“I think it’s outrageous, and excess manifest,” I responded, taking in the vehicle.

“Good, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.” She kissed me on the cheek and then slapped my butt, making me leap and yelp. “Now get your ass to work, Sober Sister, and make sure that…”

“We go out as a group, we come home as a group,” I said pointedly.

“Except you. You’re allowed to bring a guy back to the house if you want since you’ll be Sober Sister,” Sylvia grinned.

“It’s not going to happen, Sylvia, Jesus Christ.”

“Well, at least get your number out there in circulation,” she tried to reason with a shrug.

“If I agree to give one guy my number tonight, will you get off my back?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

“Maybe.”

The less said about the ride to the club, the better. Suffice it to say that while I knew for a fact none of the girls were getting all that much action, they sure talked a good game.

(Delete several paragraphs.)

I was in a good enough mood until a tall, handsome, but mildly off-putting red-haired man stepped into my view of the exit.

“Hey there, gorgeous. How about we dance?”

My heart caught in my throat. I clutched my purse and reached my hand inside to grasp for the pepper spray. “You’re not supposed to approach me, Tharpe.”

“That only applies to the campus, sweet cheeks. Man, you look smoking hot. How come you never dressed like this for me when we were going out?” His voice made my skin crawl.

“We never went out. You bought me breakfast once and then wouldn’t leave me alone. Seriously, Tharpe, I’m going to call campus security in the morning, because it specifically says the town is included in campus, and we are in town.”

“I don’t understand.” Apparently, my threat has nothing to do with Tharpe and he didn’t change his mind. He looked at me with a sight that made me feel nauseous, “I saw you work in the bar and flirt with those guys. When they tried to touch your, you didn’t try to stop.”

It felt like a bomb blast in my head, same feeling as Ned humiliating me in front of people, but more than that. At this time, I knew there was no Alexander standing out to protect me, even though I wished it sincerely.

I missed his strong arms and tall silhouette, but all I could do was to defend for myself.

“No, I don’t! It’s my job, and I just served for my guests.”

“So now I’m your guest,” Tharpe smiled like I was a rabbit stuck by the trap, and he could play tricks on me as he will, “I’ll pay you, just like they did in the bar.”

“You are such an asshole!”

I never felt so angry during my life. Just like being driven by demons, I took up the glass and splashed the wine onto his face. I didn’t think of it, and it’s like the instinctive response of the body.

Tharpe got his hair wet and tangled like straw rope. There was a moment I saw his eyes almost burning, and I imagined he was trying to punch me at my face. But so many people paid attention to this corner, and it’s not a good time to bully a girl.

He leaned away from me and shrugged. “Fine. But if you think this is over, darling…” His face twisted into a fearsome mask of anger. When he spoke, it was from behind tightly clenched teeth. “You’re. Wrong. Dead. Wrong.”

He pivoted on his heel and mercifully headed out the exit. I sagged with relief. I thought that if Alex were there, he would have handled that prick…

I laughed at myself. Even traumatized, I couldn’t get Alexander off my mind.