Out of Control - Chapter 2

When I woke up the next morning, I could barely remember the rest of the night. Brandon and I never made it to any other frats and were drinking and having a good time until almost two, when I stumbled back into the dorm and passed out.

Alex was already up and gone by the time I got up. We had our tests to become pledges starting at noon, and looking at the clock, it was eleven forty-five by the time I woke up. I jumped out of bed and almost instantly regretted it. I wasn’t sure if I was hungover or still drunk, but it was one of the two because I felt like my head was going to split open and I was going to hurl, but I pushed it back down, threw back a handful of painkillers, and dashed out the door.

I liked this group of guys and, if I could get in, these four years would go by much easier.

When I got there, Brandon was already waiting, along with thirteen other guys, most of whom I recognized from the party. All of them looked as rough as I felt.

“Hey man,” Brandon said, giving me a fist bump. “Ready for this?”

“I’m ready for a fucking lobotomy,” I said, squinting against the sun.

“I feel ya.”

A few of the guys we drank with last night started filtering out and we all just kind of made small talk while not letting our hangovers get the better of us. I swear a few of the guys were still drunk.

Eventually, Jake, who looked much less messed up than the rest of us, came out, wearing aviators.

“Listen up!” he yelled, getting a grimace from half the assembled group. “First off, welcome to Alpha Sigma Phi. Y’all have a long road ahead to prove you got what it takes. I know everybody thinks of us as a party school, but we take Greek life just as seriously as every other house on campus. Let the ritual begin.”

He turned and walked inside with the rest of the Alpha Sig brothers, leaving us all kind of standing around the lawn. We all looked at each other, collectively shrugged, and followed them inside. As soon as we were through the door, they shut them behind us, and I began to worry that I’d made a huge mistake.

Out of a side room, a bunch of the brothers came out wearing hooded cloaks and carrying long paddles. My heart freaking stopped. This was some movie cult shit. I glanced around, trying to see if there was a way I could make it out of here short of jumping through a window.

They surrounded us, kind of forcing us all together, held up their paddles... and then collectively broke down in laughter.

“Oh man, your faces!” Jake wheezed, tossing his paddle aside. “Chill, we’re just screwing with y’all. What do we look like, Beta Theta douchebags?”

Relieved laughter spread through all of us. I’ll admit it, I bought it completely. The brothers ushered us inside to the main room and handed out beers. It was still pretty early, but what the hell.

Hair of the dog and all that.

“Alright pledges, time to get to know each other. You’re each gonna introduce yourself, but here’s the deal, you gotta have an embarrassing story, but it better be good. This is part of your pledge trials. Once you’re done, chug a beer and then it’s the next guy’s turn.

As challenges go, this was doable. A few guys ahead went first and their stories were alright. Mostly just guys doing dumb guy shit.

“Kyle, your turn,” Chris said.

I’d already been wracking my brain, trying to think of something, finally settling on a story from sophomore year.

“So I had a crush on this girl Becca, right? Did the whole secret admirer bit, left a card in her locker telling her I was hot for her, or whatever, and asking her to meet me behind the gym at lunch. Lame, I know.”

They agreed and I got a chorus of heckles before Jake got everyone calmed down again.

“Anyway, I’m behind the gym, standing there with flowers like a doofus, and out walks Vince Freeman, confused as hell. He’s like, what the fuck, and I realized I never signed the card and he had the locker right next to Becca’s.”

The whole room burst out laughing as I hung my head in mock shame.

“Holy shit,” Brandon said next to me.

“I know. I begged my dad to let us move to another district. I was completely destroyed and spent the rest of the year trying to live down accidentally asking Vince out.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Vince said.

“You said embarrassing. I think that qualifies.”

“It really does,” Vince said. “Drink it down.”

I took the can from him, popped it, and chucked it down, tossing the empty into the middle of the circle. There were some pointed comments about not asking any of the brothers out, but I’d lived with teasing over that story for a long time and could laugh about it now.

And so it went, each of us trying to top the last with cringe-worthy tales. By the end, my face hurt from laughing. These guys weren’t so bad and, as ridiculous as it was, sharing those stories made me feel closer to the other pledges and the brothers.

Once the last pledge finished his embarrassing story and chugged his beer, Jake stood up. “Alright, boys, introductions are over. Time for the real initiation to begin. We’re gonna have ourselves a little Frat Olympics. Three events, three chances to prove you got what it takes.”

The brothers divided us into teams, and I ended up with Brandon, Mike, and two other pledges I didn’t know that well yet - Taylor and John.

“First event,” Chris said, “is the keg stand contest. One guy from each team, longest time upside down wins.”

Taylor volunteered for our team. I was glad because chugging beer upside down sounded like a recipe for me to puke. He managed a respectable 47 seconds before sputtering and nearly falling on his head.

“Not bad, not bad,” Jake said. “Next up, relay race! There are shots of tequila at the far end. Run down, take your shot, run back and tag the next guy. First team done wins.”

I took the second leg, already starting to feel the effects of all the drinking on top of an empty stomach and a hangover. I stumbled through my part, downing the tequila and trying not to gag. By some miracle, our team pulled out a narrow win.

“Alright, for all the marbles,” Jake said. “Beer pong tourney. Sudden death, losers drink.”

Brandon and I teamed up, both of us getting progressively drunker and less coordinated with each round. We managed to hang on until it was just us and one other team.

“Redemption arc, baby,” Brandon slurred, lining up his shot. It bounced off the rim of the last cup. “Fuck.”

I wasn’t faring much better, my vision starting to blur. I felt hot and dehydrated, mouth dry as the Sahara. I had a sneaking suspicion that was the whole point - get us too drunk to think straight.

On the other side of the table, our opponents sank their last shot. Game over.

“Drink up, boys!” Jake said gleefully.

Brandon and I dutifully chugged our beers, groaning as we finished. My head was spinning, and my stomach churning.

“Congrats, pledges,” Chris said, clapping us on the back. “You survived phase one.”

I glanced at Brandon, both of us thinking the same thing - if this was just phase one, we might not survive this. But if I had to go, there were worse ways. Everyone was laughing and having a great time. It was like those field days you would do in school as a kid... but with alcohol.

Thankfully, they gave us a short break and some carb-heavy foods to help dry us out a little bit. I wasn’t sure if that was to make sure none of us died, or to make sure we all lasted long enough to make this fun for them, but either way, it was a needed break.

“Alright pledges,” Jake announced as we gathered up again. “Phase two. The pick-up line challenge.”

Chris stepped forward, holding a bowl filled with folded slips of paper. “Each of you will draw a pick-up line from this bowl. Your task is to go out on the quad, find a girl, and deliver the line. You’ll be judged on your delivery and her reaction.”

“And if we get a bad score?” Someone asked.

“If you get a bad score,” Jake said, “the more you have to drink when you get back.”

Great. Not only did we have to humiliate ourselves, but we’d got to toy with alcohol poisoning while doing it.

“Alright gents, line up!” Chris called out.

One by one, we drew our pick-up lines. I unfolded mine and groaned. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

Brandon peeked over my shoulder and laughed. “Oh man, that’s rough.”

“What’d you get?” I asked.

He showed me his slip. “Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Yikes.”

We waited for the rest of the pledges to draw their lines, each looking more uncomfortable than the last.

Taylor sidled up to us, looking pale. “I have to ask a girl if she’s a parking ticket.”

“I got ‘Are you French? Because Eiffel for you,’“ John chimed in, shaking his head.

Brandon clapped me on the shoulder. “We’re doomed.”

“Alright boys, you know your mission,” Jake said. “Head out to the quad, work your magic. We’ll be watching and scoring.” He nodded towards some of the brothers who were already heading out, clipboards in hand.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. It was now or never. I squinted, holding a hand over my eyes and trying to find a good target. I spotted a cute blonde sitting on a bench, reading a book. She looked nice enough, maybe she’d take pity on me. I approached slowly, trying to seem casual despite my nerves. When I was a few feet away, I cleared my throat.

“Excuse me,” I said, already feeling my face heat up. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

Her lips twitched, like she was fighting a smile. “Does that line ever actually work?”

I shrugged, going for charming. “You tell me.”

She laughed then, shaking her head. “Points for confidence, I guess. But maybe work on your material.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for not, you know, slapping me or anything.”

“I reserve slaps for the real creeps,” she said, smiling back. “You seem harmless enough. Good luck with...whatever this is.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”

I walked away, finding Jake and giving him a “what can you do” shrug. He made a note on his clipboard, smirking.

I found Brandon near a group of girls, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” he asked, cringing even as he said it.

The girls burst into giggles, one of them giving him a playful shove, and they all started making fun of him as he scurried away.

“Nailed it,” I said as he joined me.

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “This is torture.”

We watched Taylor approach a girl, looking extremely nervous. “Because you’ve got FINE written all over you,” she called out as he approached her.

The girl stared at Taylor, her expression shifting from confusion to annoyance. “But here’s the thing,” she said, crossing her arms, “I can’t seem to remember asking for your opinion.”

Taylor stammered an apology, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to escape. The brothers made notes, shaking their heads.

And so it went, with every one of us striking out hard. I actually thought I’d done pretty well, considering how bad the rest crashed and burned, although only one actually got slapped when he tried to add a tag on the end of his pick-up line, like he thought that was going to help him.

“Well, that was painful to watch,” Chris said as we all gathered up back at the house again. “But entertaining. Let’s see...Kyle, not bad. She didn’t slap you, didn’t yell at you, and didn’t even laugh at you. Actually, she seemed kind of into you a little, so we’ll count that as a win. One drink for you.”

I gave a little victory dance, just to rub it into the other guys.

“Brandon, the giggling gaggle gave you a decent score. Three drinks, my man.”

Brandon groaned, but accepted his fate.

“Taylor, on the other hand, whew boy. That was a crash and burn. Five drinks for that disaster.”

Taylor hung his head, but dutifully began chugging the beers handed to him. The rest were mostly three and four beers. No one else hit Taylor’s five beer blowout.

While I’d been embarrassed as hell doing it, that might be my favorite trail so far. A definite confidence booster for me.

“Alright boys, time for phase three,” Jake, who was starting to get drunk himself, announced. “This one’s a scavenger hunt.”

Chris held up a list. “You’ve got ten items to collect from girls around campus. For every one you miss, that’s a shot.”

I glanced at the list, my eyebrows climbing higher with each item. Make a Switcher video dancing with a girl, get a phone number, have a girl autograph your stomach... it went on, each more ridiculous than the last.

“You get the idea,” Jake said. “First one back with all ten wins and doesn’t have to drink at all. Good luck, boys.”

We scattered. I approached the first girl I saw, a pretty redhead sitting under a tree.

“Hey, I’m doing this scavenger hunt thing for my frat. Would you make a quick Switcher video with me? Just dancing?”

She looked at me for a second, sizing me up, and said, “Sure. Why not.”

She’d clearly made these before because she told me which song to choose and already knew the moves. I was pretty drunk already heading toward completely shitfaced, so it took me a few tries to get it down, but she was having a good time laughing at me, so it worked out. One down, nine to go.

“Since we’re having so much fun, can I get your number too?” I asked, figuring I’d try to knock out two with one stone.

“Nice try,” she said, clearly thinking the Switcher video was a ruse, and walking off.

Maybe that would have been too easy. I moved on. No time to spare. The next girl also turned me down, but the third, a cute brunette, gave me her digits after I explained what was happening and threatened to cut off my nuts if I used it.

“Any chance you’d autograph my stomach too?” I asked, pushing my luck.

To my surprise, she laughed. “An autograph? On your stomach? Rush week is wild. Hand me that marker.”

I lifted my shirt, and she signed with a flourish. “There you go.”

“How about a beer? Cross another item off my list?” I suggested, riding the wave.

She checked her watch. “I’ve got a little time before class.”

I pulled some cans out of the bag they gave us with supplies, we clinked the aluminum, and drank them down.

“I’ve got one more, shots this time with a selfie.”

“You really are committed to this scavenger hunt, huh? A free shot’s a free shot.”

I pulled out these two little shot glasses with a kind of snap-on lid, actually pretty clever, and handed her one. She was happy to see the lid was tied down and wasn’t open, which hadn’t occurred to me until just that moment. We downed the shots, pulled faces at the camera, and I thanked her for being such a good sport.

I was feeling pretty damn wobbly.

“I’ve … got to get a kiss on camera. Just on the cheek.”

“Sorry, times up cowboy. I have to get going. Thanks for the drinks though.”

She patted me on the cheek and walked away. I thought I had it made there for a second, that she’d do all of the challenges with me and get me back fast.

I tried again with a group of girls lounging on the grass. One of them, a petite Asian girl, giggled. “I guess it’s harmless enough. Come here.”

She pecked my cheek as I snapped the pic. “Any of you ladies want to help me with the next one? I need someone to do a mock proposal video.”

They exchanged glances, then burst out laughing, thankfully seeing the humor in it.

I got down on one knee, holding out an imaginary ring to the girl who kissed me, and said, “My darling, light of my life, will you marry me?”

The girl clasped her hands to her chest. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

Her friends whooped, and someone at a bench not far away clapped for us, causing the girl to turn pink as they clearly thought it was for real.

“Thanks, you guys are lifesavers,” I said. “Okay, this is gonna sound even weirder, but... would any of you be willing to exchange shirts with me?”

That killed the mood. I wondered if they did it like this, trying to ensure we took things a step too far each time, forcing us to find a new person. Alpha Sig didn’t seem quite like the ‘do your homework’ type, but maybe they could stretch themselves for something like this.

I tried a few more girls, getting increasingly rude rejections. I spotted a gorgeous brunette sitting alone, her nose buried in a book. I should have known it was a no-go from looking at her, but I was pretty well past drunk by this point and desperate.

“Hey there,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I’m doing this scavenger hunt for my frat. Would you be up for exchanging shirts with me? It would really help me out.”

She looked up from her book, looked me up and down, taking in my disheveled appearance and red face, and gave me a disdainful smirk.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “You want me, a complete stranger, to take off my shirt and give it to you, a random frat boy, in the middle of the quad? And in return, I get to wear... that?”

She pointed at my shirt, which admittedly I’d spilled a fair amount of beer on by now.

“I mean... yeah. For fun.”

“Fun? Let me spare you the trouble. There is no universe in which I would ever agree to something so degrading and ridiculous. I don’t know what kind of girls you’ve been talking to, but I have self-respect.”

She stood up, tucking her book under her arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than entertain the juvenile antics of a desperate pledge. Good luck with your little scavenger hunt.”

Thankfully, the very next girl I asked was much more open-minded. I should have asked her from the start, the metal t-shirt and pink stripe through her hair at least a sign she was more open-minded and cool.

“Fuck it, why not. Let’s swap.”

We ducked behind a tree and exchanged shirts. Hers was so tight it barely got halfway down my chest, but it smelled surprisingly nice.

“Since you’re clearly up for anything,” I said, giving her shirt back. “Any chance I could borrow your bra for five minutes?”

She snorted. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. Give me ten bucks, but you better give that shit back.”

“Deal.”

I handed her the money, and she reached under the shirt, unhooked her bra, and handed it over. I stuffed it in my pocket. One more to go.

“While we wait, I’ve got one more. I need to film me giving you a lap dance.”

She laughed and shook her head, but at this point, I think she was committed.

“Lay it on me, Magic Mike,” she said, sitting on a concrete ledge.

I actually think I did a good job, although she did kind of lurch from whooping and hollering at me and laughing. She had her own fun too. At one point, I was grinding against her, and she reached around and straight grabbed my junk. Hard. I yelped, jumping off her.

She winked. “Just giving you a little something extra. Call me sometime, scavenger boy.”

With that, she reached into my pocket, pulled her bra out, stuck something in my other pocket, and sauntered off.

I pulled the thing out of my other pocket and found her number scrawled on a piece of paper. It seemed impossible that worked, but here we were. Shaking my head in disbelief, I high-tailed it back to the Alpha Sig house. About half the guys were already back, comparing notes. Seemed like most had managed to get all ten, though there were a few still out trying to finish up. It had taken quite a while, and the sun was down by the time the last of the guys showed up.

“Not bad, pledges,” Jake said, looking over our hauls. “Looks like Kyle here is the only one who got a bonus prize though.” He held up the scrap with the girl’s number, smirking.

The guys hooted and hollered, slapping me on the back. I couldn’t help but grin, even as my face flushed.

“Alright boys, take a breather and drink your drinks, and then it’s onto phase four,” Chris said.

I collapsed onto a couch, exhausted, and hammered. I hadn’t ever been that much of a drinker, and I definitely hadn’t spent almost an entire day drunk before. I felt like someone had stretched me out like taffy, and all I really wanted to do was roll off the couch and pass out.

But I’d made it this far.