I’m sitting at breakfast a week or so before our little trip when my phone buzzes with a text from Jordan.
J: Do you have a fancy dress?
I smile.
C: yes
J: cool. Bring it to SF
J: and heels
J: unless you don’t roll that way
J: then your fanciest sneakers
C: lol I like heels
J: good shit
J: I’m gonna wine and dine you so hard
C: haha
C: you don’t have to do that
J: I want to. Can’t wait
And then he sends me a kissy face emoji, a little heart coming from the smiley face’s lips.
And this is how I know I’ve got it bad: I do not find that little cartoon kiss cheesy or stupid or lame.
In fact, it warms my cold, sarcastic heart. Which is concerning, to say the least.
I’m smiling at my phone like an idiot when Peter sits down across from me.
“Going home to visit your parents this weekend?”
“Yep.” I push the cereal around my bowl.
“You’re gonna miss a lot of big parties.”
“Yeah, that’s why I emailed you that I couldn’t help with anything.”
“We can cover it. I’m just saying you’ll miss out on the fun.”
“Hey, it can’t be as fun as spring snow in the Midwest and my parents fighting.”
He looks down at his coffee. Then back at me. “Louis is going away, too.”
“Really?” I sound like I’m more interested in the Lucky Charms I’m sorting through. Marshmallows first, of course.
“Yeah. Funny.”
“It’s a three day weekend. A lot of people go home.” I smile up at him like I don’t know what game he’s playing.
He brings his mug to his lips, keeping his eyes on me. Waiting for me to break.
“Peter!” One of the juniors, Johnny Someone, runs into the room. “Have you seen the Daily this morning?”
My heart sinks. But no, I’m being crazy. It’s still weeks if not months until my exposé will run, and even then it won’t be in the student newspaper.
“No.” He sets down his coffee. “Why?”
“It’s not good.” He shakes his head and sets his laptop on the table. “They have our emails.”
Peter goes pale. “Exactly which emails?”
“Honestly, I’ve gotta think all of them, because this bitch seems to have handpicked the ones that make us look the worst.”
He turns the screen around for Peter to see.
“Fuck!” Peter slams his hand on the table, exhales and runs his other hand through his hair. “I need to call Dean Robinson.” He flies out of the kitchen and takes off down the hall.
Johnny follows close behind him.
I look around, but the room is empty save for Bambi, who’s sleeping, his head on the table next to a heaping plate of just bacon and English muffins.
I turn the screen around. The article is still pulled up.
Accusations of misogyny have returned to Warren University’s Delta Tau Chi house as a colorful email chain has been leaked online.
Crude descriptions of female students, invitations for underage drinking and illegal drug use, and other instances of debauchery are interspersed with correspondence about homework and internships, all sent with Warren email addresses. This has come as “quite the embarrassment” to the university, according to sources close to the administration.
The chapter has been a source of controversy ever since a party last spring in honor of International Women’s Day that sparked outrage for decorations suggesting that women belong only in domestic and inferior roles. After a university investigation, the fraternity was placed on probation.
DTC seemed to be making an effort to change their culture early this year with the acceptance of the first female member to be initiated into a fraternity on the Warren campus or, reportedly, on any college campus.
But to some, even this move was seen as a sign of the problem, a stunt meant to put a Band-Aid over a multitude of past transgressions. It has been a divisive issue among women’s groups on campus, some of which called the student in question, Cassandra Davis, “brave,” while an anonymous gender studies major told us she was “simply a puppet of the patriarchy sent to tell us frat boys are a-okay.”
Davis’s email address is notably missing from the conversations leaked this week, although it should be noted that the emails in question are from the last five years and only a small sample is from this year, when she could have been included in the conversation.
The national office of Delta Tau Chi has no comment on the matter.
In a statement, Warren University called the reported behavior “inexcusable” and vowed “to look into the matter.”
Below this was a link to thousands of pages of emails. I scan through them, my heart racing.
Many of them refer to parties, calling upon the brothers to invite “sororisluts” but warning “no fat chicks.” Others announce their plans to “hate fuck that bitch” and then to extract themselves from the situation: “told her I wasn’t looking for a relationship...well, at least not with a shrew.” They praise each other for how “totally dope” their parties were, and specify how many “drunken blow jobs” they deserved for their efforts. There’s a suggestion to use money raised at a philanthropy event to buy a stripper pole, which was voted down (but just barely).
It’s everything I’ve documented in my journal entries and so much more.
After a while I have to stop, nauseous from it all. I get up and head to my room to lie down, thinking that maybe boys who are nice to me but not to women generally aren’t actually nice boys.