![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() “Guess that makes us adorable spaniels,” I say and Margo laughs. “They’re like…pretty, sleek greyhounds,” Margo says with a little growl, her gaze on the girls. They’re the beautiful, rich, party girl sorority while Chi-Os are known for being brainy and attractive in a warm, fuzzy kind of way. In typical college fashion, there’s raging competition between us and the Thetas. “Candy with an ‘i’,” Margo says, offering her name, and I guess I must have asked for it. I have a plethora of low-cut dresses, and I’ve been known to flaunt what I have. Like Dani, she’s dressed in a low-cut, skimpy dress-nothing wrong with that. I don’t know the girl on the left, but she’s beautiful, her white-blonde hair straight and silky. She’s…uh…with him a lot,” I tell the girl, my voice carefully even. I walked a narrow tightrope last fall, avoiding places I thought they might be, going straight to class and then coming right back home. ![]() On the nights when I was weak after we broke up, I’d stalk his IG and see pics she’d posted: them at Cadillac’s, in the student center, at a party, in his dorm. The taller one on the right with the slinky navy and orange dress-school colors, of course-honey-colored hair, and blinding red lipstick is the one he escorted all over campus in November and December. ![]()
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