((Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Please continue to send them my way! ;) Enjoy chapter 2!))

CHAPTER TWO: CURIOSITY

'What can I say I left back at the dorm? I can't say I forgot I have an exam tomorrow since classes haven't even started yet. And I'm sure they have bathrooms here so that excuse is out…'

My mind is racing, but it's still not fast enough to keep up with the redhead that dragged me in here, and though I don't remember making the conscious decision to sit down next to her on a fuchsia pink faux leather couch in the center of the room, that's exactly what I'm doing at the moment.

Then she speaks, and she sounds like one of the mice from Cinderella. "So what's your name? What's your major? Are you just, like, loving Sinclair already? I still remember my first day here! I knew it was the place for me in, like, five seconds."

I'm forced to turn my brain away from excuse-making. "Uh…well, yeah…I mean, my name's Haruhi Fujioka, and I haven't declared a major yet but I'm pre-law…"

"Pre-law? Oh, that's amazing! Our sorority has the highest GPA average out of all the houses, so we definitely welcome ambitious young women like yourself!" The way she says it makes her come across as a ten-year-old opening her gifts at a birthday party, but the statement itself puts me at ease.

But only for a second, because the next thing out of her mouth is: "By the way, where did you get that dress? It's, like, super cute."

"Oh, this?" I blink, looking down at the dress as if I've never seen it before. "To be honest, my dad got me this dress."

"Oh, really? What a sweet guy! Do you know where he bought it from? It looks like Bloomingdale's to me."

I hesitate. But then I remember that I'm not trying to impress her anyway. "He got it from the bar he works at. The manager there, he was giving away some of his old clothes."

She tilts her head so far to the left that it looks like it could roll right off her neck. "He?"

"Yeah. The manager used to be a woman. It's a tranny bar my dad works at, so that kind of stuff is pretty common actually," I explain.

Redhead freezes. Her lips puckered, her eyes bulging. This is the reaction I expected, but now I don't know where to go from here. Surprisingly but luckily for me, she's the first to break the awkward silence. "Well, that's very interesting! It was so nice meeting you, Haruhi! I hope you understand that we, like, have to try to talk to as many girls as possible, so we can't, like, spend too much time with each one, but I'll send someone else over to talk to you. Okay? Okay!"

"Actually, I kind of have to leave anyway—" I attempt, but she's true to her word, I'll give her that at least; before I can finish, another girl has taken her spot beside me on the couch.

"Welcome to Zeta Heta Theta! So why don't you tell me about your extracurricular activities? Were you involved in anything at your high school?" she asks, offering me a dazzling smile. Her teeth are whiter than those of the women on toothpaste commercials.

"Well, yeah, I was a member of one club…" Judging by Redhead's reaction to my father's occupation, I doubt that talking about this will go over well, but lying doesn't feel right either. "A host club."

"A host club? Oh, you mean, a club where you learn how to organize and host parties? That sounds like so much fun!"

"Uh, well, we did host a lot of events, but a 'host club' is a club where guys entertain girls with conversation and flattery."

She can't help but furrow an eyebrow, even though the expression looks unladylike on her. "So you went to an after-school club so that guys would talk to you?"

"Not exactly." For the next ten minutes, I explain my involvement with the host club; I even tell her about getting gum in my hair before my first day of high school and how I had to chop it all off.

But after I'm done, she replies cheerfully, "Well, we do need more lesbians here! Diversity is something we're actively working on! And you're Asian too, so double whammy!" She laughs a hearty laugh.

"But I'm not a—you know what, never mind. I think I forgot my purse back at the dorm room. And I can't go five more minutes without refreshing my lipstick, I'm sure you understand, so I'll be right back. Okay? Okay." She nods understandingly, and it's crystal clear that she didn't pick up a single note of mockery in my voice.

At least I'm free. I stand up from the couch and make my way to the front door, hoping to go entirely unnoticed. Of course it doesn't work out like I planned.

"Excuse me, miss, but all rushees are required to stay in each sorority house for a full half hour before moving on to the next one," a tall blonde says just as I'm turning the flower-shaped golden door knob to leave.

I cringe internally. And externally, I can't help it. Turning to face the girl, I'm about to say something about how they can't hold me prisoner here, but I stop in my tracks when my eyes catch sight of the necklace she's wearing. It's a golden Chinese dragon, and it's the exact same one that I have back at home, in my mother's jewelry box.

She notices me staring and she clasps her hand around the dragon affectionately. "Oh, yes, isn't it lovely? All Zeta Heta Theta members receive this golden dragon on the first day of their last year living in the house. It's just one of the many traditions that bonds us all together."

"Y-yeah, it's really beautiful," I start, unable to tear my eyes away from its glint. "I think my mother has the exact same one."

"Oh, was she a Zeta?" she asks, beaming.

I pause. I know she was in the Zuka Club in high school, but a college sorority? My dad never mentioned that to me. "I'm actually not sure. I've never heard anything about her being in a sorority before."

"Well, most Zetas love to talk about their time in the sorority, so if she never mentioned it to you, it might just be a coincidence that she has a necklace like this. But you should certainly ask her and see what's up! If she was a Zeta, you'll be considered a legacy here!"

A horrible, rock-sized lump rises to my throat. I try to swallow it down. This is definitely not the time or place to be getting emotional about Mom. "Uh…well, she, um…she died actually. When I was five. So I can't really…ask her myself."

I probably shouldn't have said that. From the very little I know about rush, I can tell that bringing up heavy subjects like a dead mother will not be considered proper protocol. I wait for the girl to titter uncomfortably and excuse herself and send another girl over to take on the burden of talking to me, but instead, she takes her hand off the necklace and wraps me in an embrace.

Suddenly, my eyes can see nothing but the peach-colored silk of her dress, and my nose is overwhelmed by the scent of her powdery perfume. Still, I don't repel from the hug. I don't hug her back, but I don't repel. I stay standing there, letting her hug me for a good forty seconds before she separates us.

When our eyes meet again, hers are filled with warmth and compassion. Yet another thing that catches me off guard. "I am very sorry to hear about your loss. My mom died on my twelfth birthday," she says softly. "I thought it was so unfair that I only got her for a little over a decade, but look at you…you only got yours for five years…that's much worse."

I feel my eyes getting watery and look to the ground. "Yeah, it was…still is…really difficult." I then look up at her and offer, "But I don't think it's necessarily worse than what happened to you. I mean, you got to know your mom for your entire childhood and became completely attached to her. And for her to die right at that time when adolescence starts, when everything becomes confusing and scary…when you need her the most…"

Neither of us say anything else for a few moments, but that's because nothing else needs to be said. The silence isn't awkward; it's meaningful. And I feel something, something that can only be described as a 'bond' between me and her.

"So…what's your name anyway?" she asks, chuckling. It is kind of funny that we exchanged sob stories before names.

"Haruhi." I smile and shake her hand.

"I'm Poppy. So have you had a glass of our signature Zeta pink lemonade yet? It's super yummy!"

"No, I haven't. But I wouldn't mind trying some."

After Poppy returns with a glass of the lemonade, I spend about fifteen minutes talking to her. She's double majoring in Philosophy and Biomedical Engineering, which fascinates me; I'm from Tokyo, where she hopes to complete an internship abroad during the summer, which fascinates her. I feel like I could stay and talk to her all night, but the official half hour is up, and all rushees are instructed to visit the other houses.

Walking out of Zeta, I realize I could make a break for it. In this swarm of girls moving from house to house, I could easily slip out into the dark of night and make it back to my dorm room without anyone batting an eye.

But the boisterous announcer girl's voice rings out above the crowd: "Now remember, ladies, even if you have your heart set on pledging one specific sorority, you must visit each house to stay in the game! Anyone that fails to complete Round One will be disqualified from participating in any further rounds, and we don't want that, now do we?"

I think of the golden dragon around Poppy's neck. The same one in my mother's jewelry box.

"No. No, we don't want that," I say, more to myself than the announcer, as I make my way into an ornate-looking house to my left.

It's not that I want to pledge Zeta or anything. Of course not. It's just…curiosity. If I want to get to know more about an organization my mother might have dedicated years to, then I have to "stay in the game", at least for now.

But it's just curiosity. And I'm not a cat, so I think I'll make it out alive.