and gathered the empty bottles together. Jake helped him and Leda jumped in the front seat, yawning and saying sleepily, “Better hurry. We’ll be out after hours.”
On the way home, after they had come off the dirt road and gone onto the highway, Jake stopped the car. Leda stood beside Mitch while she vomited.
“You’ll be OK,” she promised. “I used to get sick on beer myself. You’ll get used to it, honey.”
The next morning, after breakfast, Mitch waited for Marsha Holmes, as she had been told to do. The president’s suite consisted of three rooms. There was the bedroom, the study room, and the meeting room, all of them attractively furnished with low couches and triangular lamps and small square tables. Mitch sat in the meeting room, thumbing through the magazines on the table in front of her. She stopped at one titled “The Epsilon.” Inside, the columns were devoted to news from chapters of Tri Epsilon throughout the country. Mitch’s eye caught the printing, “Gamma Pi Chapter, Cranston University.”
Gamma Pi Tri Eps are looking forward to a year bustling with excitement. Last year, you remember, they received many honors. For the second year in a row, glamorous Leda Taylor, a Tri Epsilon junior, was voted campus queen. Good luck this year, Leda, and may you cap all awards again for the name of Epsilon Epsilon Epsilon.
“No one can deny it,” a voice said behind Mitch, “Leda is a beautiful girl.”
Mitch turned and faced Marsha. “A very beautiful girl,” Marsha continued. “Do you like rooming with her, Mitch?”
“Yes, I do. She’s been swell to me.”
“Did you have a good time last night? You went out with Bud Roberts, didn’t you? And Leda and Jake?”
“Yes, I did. I’m sorry we were late. It was my fault.”
“Your fault, Mitch?”
“Yes, I got sick coming back. We had to stop.”
“I see.” Marsha thought for a moment, her hands folded demurely, and then she sat down beside Mitch. “Look, Susan, I hate to be the bossy president that starts right in advising pledges, but remember something for me, will you?”
“Certainly, Marsha.”
“Leda has many ideas that some of us—that I don’t agree with. If there are any that you don’t agree with, will you come and talk to me about them?”
“Yes, I will. I didn’t like my date too well, but I shouldn’t have had all that beer. I guess I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
“I won’t say any more, Mitch. I just want you to know that I’m here to help the pledges. I don’t think Leda was wise to have you date Bud Roberts during blind date week. You see, Kitten, our social chairman, tries very hard to arrange a suitable date for each pledge. Someone your own age—usually a fraternity pledge who is as new to college as you are.”
“Oh,” Mitch said. “I didn’t understand. Leda said it would be all right so long as Bud was a fraternity man.”
“You will go along on a blind date tonight, won’t you, Mitch? One of Kitten’s. All the other pledges are enjoying it tremendously.”
“Yes,” Mitch answered, “I will. I’m sorry about last night.”
Mitch wandered out of the suite down the stairs to the porch, where some of the girls were playing bridge. She recognized a few of them as pledges, because they wore the pink and blue ribbons too, but she did not know them.
“… and so I told him,” a short girl with jewel-studded rims on her large-framed glasses was saying, “that as far as I was concerned, he was the blindest date I’d ever had.”
“Robin!” Marybell Van Casey looked horrified. “He was an Omega Phi. They’re a big fraternity, sweetie, and Tri Ep can’t afford to run around insulting their pledges. You be careful.”
“Well, I don’t care. I hate those big oafs that maul you around as though you were a punching bag. I just won’t take it.”
There was a tense silence. Marybell looked across the table significantly at Kitten Clark. Robin was due for a conference with the social chairman.
Mitch sat next to Robin Maurer at the pledge meeting that afternoon. Jane Bell was the pledge director. She had an extensive background in directing and leading and counseling. In grammar school she had been the monitor in the cloakroom, and later, a junior counselor at a summer camp for girls. She was a Texan and an Army brat, and her speech was peppered with such phrases as “team spirit,” “pulling together,” “giving it all we’ve got,” and “sticking in there.” Whenever a date gave Jane trouble toward the end of an evening, Jane always looked him squarely in the eye and said, “Now, look—don’t get out of line, son!”
“I guess that’s all. How about you girls? Any questions?”
A girl in a plaid dress raised her hand. “Is it true,” she asked, “that we can only date fraternity men?”
Jane cleared her throat and looked treacherously serious. “That question always comes up among new pledges. Well, girls, all I can say is that you have joined a sorority because you have found that you’re in with a gang you can be mighty proud of. Most men join fraternities for the same reason. They want to pick a bunch that they know have high standards and high ideals. Now, to my way of thinking, it’s only logical to want to date that kind of guy.”
“But,” the girl persisted, “may we date an independent if we find that his standards are high and—” She stopped and wrung her hands and blurted out finally, “My boyfriend is an independent. He can’t af-afford a fraternity.”
Jane said, “I’ll talk to you after the meeting. We’ll have a chat about it, OK?”
“Wait a minute,” Robin said, getting up and resting her hand on the large oak table before her. “I think this is pretty silly. You mean to tell me we have to ask you before we can date an independent?”
There was a stir among the gathering and Jane Bell rapped for order. “You can go out with independents if you want—on weekdays. Weekends, we’d prefer you to be with fraternity men.”
“What a laugh!” Robin exclaimed. “You’re serious!”
Anger swept through the Texan’s whole body and settled in her eyes, black as night. “That’s a demerit for you, Robin Maurer,” she thundered, “and it’ll be wise for you to learn how to talk to an active member of Tri Epsilon.”
Robin turned and walked from the room after she said, “Hooray for the team spirit we’ve all got! Three big cheers for our team spirit!”
It was difficult for Jane to continue. She uttered a few remarks about hours on weekends, and special permission for out-of-town weekends. Then she assigned the Fledge lesson (learn the first three songs in the songbook, and the names of the official alumnae officers) and dismissed the group. She bounded off in the direction of the president’s suite.
“Here you are,” Leda said, pulling Mitch aside as she came from the Pledge Room. “I’ve been looking for you. How about my fixing you up tonight with a date? Not Bud Roberts, spare your soul, but someone else.”
