1Elizabeth sighed, and picked up her now-wrinkled new black suit off the floor. It was fairly stylish, not anything that she would normally wear. She should have known better than to buy something even moderately trendy–Jessica was bound to borrow it if she did.
"And of course I'm the one who's going to end up paying for the dry cleaning," she said out loud, even though there was no one else in the room.
She rummaged through her closet. There's got to be something in here that I can wear to the Journalism Club meeting.
Elizabeth didn't usually stress out about what she wore, but today was different. The Club meeting today wasn't just an ordinary meeting. Today she would be competing with about 100 other aspiring journalists from SVU and several other small, neighboring colleges for a chance at the prestigious Woodwardstein Fellowship.
It wasn't that she had a formal interview today. But she did have a chance to meet Bob and Marian Woodwardstein, the husband-and-wife journalists who had cracked government scandal after government scandal in the state of California. First impressions, she knew, could move their decision in her favor.
That is, if I can only find something to wear, Elizabeth thought, feeling remarkably like her sister.
The thought of Jessica gave her an idea. She crossed the room and opened up her twin's closet. As she did so, a large pile of clothes, papers, and other, unidentifiable, junk came tumbling out at her feet, burying her legs up to her knees.
"Jessica!" Elizabeth moaned, sinking to her knees and starting to pick up some of the papers.
After a moment, she paused and looked around her. Forget it. Jess can deal with it herself. For right now, I just need to find something to wear.
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Jessica strolled confidently into the Theta Phi Alpha living room. She had just finished mapping out a study schedule for her entire week, and was ready for a well-earned break. I feel like the cat that ate the canary. Why didn't anyone ever tell me that studying could be fulfilling? Well, ok, I didn't exactly start studying, but hey, with this new schedule I'm bound to get A's. Who needs men when you're as smart as I am?
"Well, speak of the devil," said Lila Fowler, her best friend, who was sitting on the couch with Magda Helprin, the Theta president.
"Hello to you too," Jessica replied, sitting down on the chair across from Lila.
"We were just talking about you," Lila said.
"Nothing good, I hope," Jessica said breezily.
"Actually, Jess, we're hoping that you could do quite a bit of good," said Lila carefully. "You see, it's time for our annual volunteer hours--"
"Volunteer hours?" Jessica repeated in disbelief.
"It's actually quite important," chipped in Magda. "The Dean laid down new rules during my sophomore year: any on-campus sorority or fraternity needs to spend at least 25 hours doing community service or volunteer work in order to retain their on-campus housing."
Jessica felt slightly uncomfortable as she sat. She could feel what was coming next. She tried to avert it, at least temporarily. "That isn't right! The Dean can't tell us what to do."
"Unfortunately, he can," sighed Lila.
Magda looked Jessica straight in the eye. "At least fifty percent of the sorority needs to be present at each event. I can assure you that we will be there."
"Be where?" Jessica squirmed.
"At whatever event you'd like to coordinate," Lila said calmly.
"But I can't--"
"We need you, Jess," Magda said firmly.
"But why me?" Jessica asked desperately.
"Well, let's go through the list," Lila said sarcastically. "Magda, Allison, myself, and the rest of the board are out. They've already got the management of the sorority on their hands. As for the rest of the sisters, Lucille is taking the MCAT's, Tamara and Rita are on academic suspension, Isabella is in a hospital in Switzerland--"
"But I'm trying to get all A's!" Jessica wailed.
As if on cue, Magda and Lila burst out laughing.
"Oh, Jess--" Magda choked out, with tears in her eyes--
"That's a good one, Jess," Lila said, holding her stomach as she rolled over on the couch.
"But I am!" Jessica wailed. "I really want to improve my grades this semester."
"Um, since when?" Lila asked.
"Well...last night," Jessica admitted slowly.
Magda's eyes grew serious. "We're counting on you, Jess. You know how important this is to us. We need you. Don't you care about the future of Theta?"
Jessica repressed a sigh. It didn't look as if she had much of a choice. At least she might as well look good in front of Magda. There was no telling when she might need a favor from her. And if Allison Quinn ever found out that she had refused to help the sorority, there would be hell to pay.
She forced a broad, artificial smile to her lips. "Of course I'll do it. When can I start planning?"
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Elizabeth stepped into the crowded atrium, her sister's heels clicking loudly on the floor. She felt slightly uneasy wearing Jessica's clothes and shoes. It wasn't her usual style at all.
She glanced around her, looking for a familiar face, but didn't see anyone that she knew.
All over, though, people were mingling. She felt the pressure to socialize, but wasn't ready to try and strike up a conversation with a complete stranger.
I'll head over to the refreshments table, she thought. Maybe while I'm over there, I'll see Rob from WSVU. I bet he's here today. She walked across the room, keeping an eye open for him.
Or maybe Professor Blabdinelli will be here. I hope he is, because he can probably introduce me to the Woodwardsteins.
She felt slightly jittery at the thought of meeting the famous journalists. They're so amazing. I just wish that one day I could write like they do.
Elizabeth absently took a sip of her punch, scanning the room for Rob or Professor Blabdinelli. Instead, she caught sight of the Woodwardsteins, chatting with an elderly couple in a corner of the room, and surrounded by about eight attentive students.
Her heart skipped a beat. What should I do? Do I just stand here and wait for Professor Blabdinelli? Or should I try to intro–
"Pardon me,"said a soft voice from behind her, a distinct British accent shaping the words.
Elizabeth turned around. Her knees suddenly felt weak.
"Y-yes?" She fumbled.
He was about five feet ten inches tall, with dark hair, broad shoulders, and had a tremendous grin on his face. "Pardon me, may I get a glass of punch?"
With a start, Elizabeth realized that she had been standing in front of the small table that held the punch bowl, completely blocking his way.
"Oh, yes, of course." She moved away from the table, trying to take her eyes off the handsome man who was now behind her.
I've got to get ahold of myself. I'll go introduce myself to the Woodwardsteins. She started to head across the room. As she did so, she was extremely surprised to see Todd Wilkins among the students clustered near the journalists.
She barely had enough time to wonder what Todd was doing there when, from behind her, the British accent interrupted her reverie yet again
"Pardon me," he said again.
Elizabeth turned around, positive that she would melt into the ground. Collecting herself, she tried to remember some of Jessica's tricks for flirting. She couldn't think of any. She settled for a simple "Yes?" and a broad smile.
"I just thought you'd like to know that you have punch on your shirt," he said in a low tone, extremely politely.
Elizabeth gasped and looked down at her shirt. Sure enough, two large red spots had marred her white shirt. She couldn't meet the Woodwardsteins like this.
"Thank you," she said quickly, then took off towards the door. I hope I can make it back before they leave.