From experience, I knew that waiting for Gemma to call was often a lesson in futility but that didn't stop me from checking my phone every few minutes as I made my way to the fraternity's chapter room that evening. Although our meetings were typically held on Saturday nights, rush week started on Thursday and our recruitment chair had somehow managed to convince Parker that we needed a strong pledge class to maintain our frat's ranking. The tiers that all of the fraternities were grouped into were arbitrary, of course, and primarily based on word of mouth rather than anything meaningful. As far I could tell, other than the fact that our president was dating a celebrity, there wasn't anything particularly special about the guys in Kappa Omicron to separate us from the rest of the fraternities on the Row.

Still, we were usually pretty well liked, which was good because perception played a large role in determining which sororities would plan mixers with us and who we'd take to homecoming later in the fall. In the grand scheme of things, we all knew that none of it mattered but we still enjoyed the flicker of approval that we received from girls when they saw us wearing our letters around campus. Right now, we hovered somewhere between the first and second tiers -- a drop in status caused by the university imposing social sanctions on us the year before.

It was simple. No parties meant no girls, and no girls meant less pledges. While bad rush years had tanked other frats on Greek Row, our reputation carried us through... Our reputation, and presumably the fact that three lower-ranked houses had been put on probation in the last eighteen months. Personally, I didn't really see the point in worrying about the minor downwards shift but Parker wasn't happy about it and neither was the rest of the house.

By the time I filed into chapter, Parker and three of the house's vice presidents were already seated at a table watching the rest of us walk in. Arranged in a crescent shape, the chairs in the windowless chapter room were angled so that everyone was facing the president and he could see all of us at once. Now, sixty-five active members -- minus the ones sitting at the exec panel -- stood in front of a wooden seat, waiting for Parker's instruction.

Per the rules of the fraternity's ritual, Parker waited until the door to the chapter room had been closed before picking up the gavel in front of him. "Kugas," he said, addressing the brother who'd both shut the door and challenged us for the chapter's secret motto, "have all at this meeting been properly confirmed?"

"They have, Worthy Consul," Yakob, this year's Kugas and a talkative sophomore, replied. The kid always spoke too quickly for me to understand him and I was almost certain that he was on some type of speed. Of all our pledges from last year, however, Parker seemed to like him the most and never minded asking Yakob to repeat himself.

"To protect the sacredness of our meeting, let us confirm ourselves in each other's presence." Parker first turned to the V.P. on his right and extended his hand, which Carlos took. "Are you a Kappa Omicron?"

"I am," Carlos answered.

"Begin."

"Areo."

"Pagus."

Parker passed the secret handshake and said the challenge motto, which Carlos answered with ease. Turning to his left, Parker repeated this process with Kevin, a senior who had pledged the semester after us, and then the Confirmation was passed from right to left around the chapter. When the handshake finally came to me, I mumbled something that I hoped sounded enough like what I was supposed to say. To my left, Andy, a shaggy-haired redhead and another senior, cleared his throat to hide a laugh.

That was the thing. I knew the stereotype of fraternities was that we were lawless champions for booze and partying, but the truth was that most our time together was spent reciting heavily scripted mumbo jumbo and pretending like we understood ancient Greek. Hell, if our original founders had picked a phrase that meant, "My balls didn't drop," there was no way that I'd never know.

Tired of standing, I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Having to go through Confirmation twice in a row always struck me as being a total waste of time. We all knew each other and I'd bet money that if a random person happened to be in our chapter room, someone would notice long before Parker called for the second challenge. But, it was tradition, I guess, and apparently no one was willing to forsake it for something a little more time efficient.

When all the brothers in the room had successfully recited the secret motto, the V.P. Ritual, or Pro-Consul of Ritual as we called him during meetings, turned to Parker and said, "It has been confirmed. All who enter have been gifted with the secrets of Kappa Omicron."

"Brothers," Parker said, scanning the room, "for what purposes do we join?"

In unison, the chapter responded, "To promote brotherhood, to seek guidance, and to strengthen the bond of Kappa Omicron."

Having completed the opening of our chapter meeting, Parker struck his gavel on the mahogany table before him, the signal that the rest of us could finally be seated. Without hesitation, I sank into my chair and caught a glimpse of pride in Parker's eye.

"So, uh," Parker began, "hey, guys. I hope everyone had a good summer."

Despite the official rule that no one could speak without the Consul's permission, a few senior actives catcalled in reply, shouting everything from, "We love you, Conehead," to "Yeah, pretty boy, take it off!" Much more laid back than Phil, our president the year before, Parker took the teasing in good natured stride, even laughing at some of the jokes being made.

Eventually, the playful jeers grew increasingly inappropriate until Parker brought down the gavel three times, the official call to order within the chapter room. Although Parker didn't seem to mind the rowdiness, Carlos still turned to him and, with two fingers raised in salute, said, "Worthy Consul, may I address those gathered?"

"You may," Parked replied, swiveling the stick of the gavel between his palms.

Rising to his feet, Carlos shook his head. "Seriously, guys, just because Parker's up here doesn't mean you can go rogue, alright? These meetings are long enough without all the comedy acts thrown in and I've got four hours worth of shit to do for my classes." Parker and I both shifted in our chairs uncomfortably while Carlos lifted the same two fingers to his brow and repeated the motion slowly. "In case you've forgotten, here's the way it works. Two fingers to your head, then wait for the Consul to address you. Got it?"

He waited for the chapter to nod and several people did, though most rolled their eyes. In all honesty, Carlos wasn't the type of guy that people took seriously, if only because he and Andy spent the majority of their day together getting stoned beyond belief. When he wasn't high, he was usually chain-smoking outside of the architecture school, a constant ball of nerves as he worked on intricate models and drew impressively detailed designs. It still kind of baffled me that he'd been elected as the third most important position in the house but, then again, a lot of things in life didn't seem to make much sense.

"Thank you, Pro-Consul," Parker said. "Anyway, the reason why we are here is, first of all, to discuss rush week and also to vote on this semester's social events. I'll let Mattie tell you guys more about it but we've officially been asked to have a mixer with every sorority except for Sigma Xi, and I personally think that's because their social chair was kicked out last month."

Parker must have caught on to the rush of excited energy that his announcement sparked because he paused and reshuffled the papers in front of him. "Actually, why don't we do the social stuff first? Pro-Consul of Community, please deliver new knowledge to the chapter."

A thin blonde boy seated in the row in front of me stood up with his salute already in place. "Thank you for granting me a forum, Worthy Consul." Turning around, Mattie Jenkins studied everyone behind him while the rest of us marveled at his gravity-defying hairstyle.

One of two openly gay guys in the house, Mattie was, without a doubt, both one of my best friends and a walking enigma. We'd bonded during our pledge semester over our family ties to the south, though we agreed my claim to southern heritage was significantly weaker than his. Born and raised in a town near Prospect, Kentucky, Mattie spoke with a lazy drawl that made him sound like the friendliest person in the room, which, funnily enough, he usually was. Although Mattie had once confided in me that he'd originally been afraid to rush a fraternity because of his sexuality, it turned out that he was easily the most well-liked person in Kappa Omicron. Since he'd been initiated, the unwritten rule of the house was that any pledge who disrespected Mattie was automatically kicked out, and I knew for a fact that was something Parker would continue to enforce.

Widely considered the greatest wingman alive, Mattie had also served as the chapter's social chair three years in a row, each time running unopposed. A senior now, the younger guys in the house routinely bemoaned the fact that Mattie would be gone in June and the task of party planning would fall on one of them. Everyone knew and accepted the fact that it would be the end of an era; after all, there really wasn't a man alive who could throw an event like Mattie.

"D.K.G. and Pi Theta both want to do a theme party the Thursday after we get our pledge class." An appreciative murmur went around the room as my friends visualized the girls in what were traditionally the two best looking houses. "Personally, I'd rather work with Pi Theta's social chair because she's not a total--" Parker coughed loudly and Mattie caught himself. Grinning sheepishly, he continued, "Uh, but, rumor has it that D.K.G. is probably going to take the hottest freshman pledge class this year, so if you dirty bastards are into robbing the cradle, we should probably schedule something with them first. Thoughts?"

Nearly every person's hand shot up in a two-fingered salute and Parker sighed, starting the discussion by calling on people sitting in the front row. I could hardly keep up with the back and forth debate but in the end, the Deltas won after four of our exec board members reminded us that they were dating girls in D.K.G. According to Mark Chen, and the other guys in his position, "It'd be messed up not to say yes to them first."

In response to that, Andy muttered just loudly enough for those around him to hear, "What was the point in making us vote if Exec had already decided the outcome?"

I zoned out for the rest of the social planning process, only paying attention when Parker asked us to lower our heads and raise our hands to vote. After a while, most of the guys near me began to fidget, as they often did when meetings ran long. The wall clock in the chapter room had been broken since I was a freshman and because our phones had to be turned off during meetings, there was no way to know how much time had passed unless you had a watch. Carlos began to check his frequently, the scowl on his face growing each time that he did. From the murderous look he gave us, I could only imagine that he was going through some serious nicotine withdrawals at the moment. The longer that we were forced to sit, the less I blamed him for the lecture he'd given at the start of chapter asking us to stay quiet.

Drumming my fingers against my knee, I was grateful when Mattie finally sat down and Corey, our recruitment chair, stood up to address the chapter. A lanky kid with close-cropped hair, Corey looked as bored as the rest of us felt. "Look," he began, "most of you have done rush week before, so I'm going to keep this short. For the new guys who haven't gone through this side of rush, recruitment is man-flirting, plain and simple. Keep in mind, however, that there's a difference between asking a guy about his summer and hitting on him."

A chuckle went around the room and even Parker cracked a smile. "If you think you might get nervous, then it's probably a good idea to have conversation topics already thought up. You don't want to toss out too many canned questions but have a couple on deck in case you freeze."

"Hey, Corey," Parker said, scratching his back with the head of his gavel, "why don't you give them some examples?"

Corey frowned. "Examples?"

"Yeah, you know," Parker replied, "examples of good and bad questions to ask rushees."

"Oh, right." Corey stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Uh, well, an example of a good question might be, 'Besides joining a frat, what other campus activities are you interested in getting involved with?'"

Parker nodded. "And a bad one?"

"Aw, I don't know. You're really putting me on the spot here, Park--uh, Consul." Corey shook his head. "Look, guys, the main lesson here is: don't be a freak and you'll be fine. If you think you're going to be a freak, please let me know and I'll try to find something for you to do that doesn't involve talking to anyone."

That comment was met with another wave of laughter and Parker rolled his eyes, clearly unsure if he should join in this time. "Corey," he said, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Alright, fine." Corey held his hands up. "If any of you want to run through a practice rush convo, stop by my room tonight. Okay?"

He looked at Parker and waited for our president to give a short nod of approval. "Cool. Now, does everyone know the dress code for our events this week?"

By the time the chapter meeting finally ended, it was eight o'clock and both of my legs were fast asleep. Millions of invisible needles pricked my skin while I wobbled down the hallway to my room, my finger holding down my phone's power button as I went. The cracked screen eventually flickered to life and half a dozen notifications appeared following a series of impatient buzzes: a voicemail from my mom, a few emails, and a text message from Michael asking me to call him when I had time to talk. I ignored all of them, unable to suppress the disappointment that I felt after realizing that Gemma still hadn't called.

What a surprise.

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A/N: Yes, fraternity and sorority meetings really are that cultish - I would know. And, yes, I still loved mine. :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please feel free to vote or comment if you did.