My closest friend Isabella Jules and I pledged the most exclusive Greek house on campus—partly because our families expected it, partly because we craved the status. When they mentioned the Independence Day pool event, we assumed it would be typical rush week stuff. Maybe some nude swimming or harmless kissing games with the other pledges. We never imagined the initiation would involve getting thoroughly tasted and taken right there by the pool. Now we’re on full display, being passed around and used as entertainment while the crowd watches. The exposure only fuels us—we’re not embarrassed, we’re hungry for more. Every opening we have is begging to be filled while everyone observes.
























































































