Post by Dewey on Aug 23, 2008 16:03:58 GMT -5
CHAPTER ONE
Rafael Rossi sat in the driver’s seat of his black 1968 Pontiac Firebird, trying to talk himself out of entering Alpha Sigma Phi’s three-story mansion. He was parked on the cobblestone driveway, right next to the fountain that’s water supply was replaced with beer on celebratory nights. He gripped the Firebird’s steering wheel and studied his reflection in the rearview mirror. The words of his father’s best friend, Vincenzo Iaconelli, resounded in his ears. This isn’t who you are, Rafael. They were spoken an hour after Rafael had been arrested for grand theft auto.
It wasn’t who he was. It was an accusation that belonged on his delinquent of an older brother’s criminal record. Not on Rafael’s ‘white as snow’, nonexistent one. Alpha Sigma Phi meant more to him than he would’ve suspected, though. A full-scholarship pre-engineering student on the 3-2 track, he’d hardly known what having a social life even meant. During his first year, he’d study around the clock, even reading chapters ahead to maintain his footing within 400-level courses. The work had paid off. He’d earned President List standings each semester, acing every test that came his way.
He hadn’t planned on revising his game plan for his second year at Bedford College. Not until his loneliness dawned on him. He was tired of buying lunch at the Mess Hall, and immediately bringing it back to his apartment, simply because he didn’t have anyone with whom he could sit. He was tired of not having plans for the weekend, while peers scrambled left and right from club to frat house party to beach. He was tired of walking across campus by himself, while others played Frisbee or volleyball on the lawn or swam in the lake against which Bedford was situated. Despite how popular his name, despite his fame as Bay Ridge High School’s star baseball pitch, Rafael Rossi was dreadfully friendless.
He made the decision to rush after spending an entire weekend between the covers of an engineering textbook. When Monday morning dawned, he was unable to believe he’d only left his apartment over the course of 72 hours to get meals from Burger King. Seeing the basketball team fraternize with each other outside the gym that morning, calling each other names as they monkeyed about and laughed, made Rafael think of but one word. Loser. So he hurried to the front of the Mess Hall, discreetly observed the Pan-Hellenic booth for a time, passed it back and forth, and then finally made peace with himself and signed up for rush.
Weeks later, here he was, a rightful criminal. He didn’t know hazing could go so terribly far. Bedford College’s Pan-Hellenic Council boasted 0% tolerance against it, but the fraternities still found loopholes. Everyone knew and accepted that it still happened. Rafael thought he’d prepared himself for whatever darts Alpha Sigma Phi might hurl at his body of a target board. Considering what other pledges had gone through, he’d seemed like a favorite from the start. At least all his bones were intact. It was a surprise no one had died over the past couple of months!
Rafael had been handpicked by the big names to be a part of the Tri-Delta family, a small camaraderie of Alpha Sigs who were legacies, active members within the chapter, and unbelievably wealthy. As such, they treated Rafael like gold. “We always catch our own.” Big Brother Cal’s words following one dangerous rite of passage. It was true, of course. They did take wonderful care of him. They had ensured not a single scratch or scrape had graced his body. But in Rafael’s eyes, they had let him down last night during initiation, because they had required of him something that threatened his future, and this couldn’t be an every-day thing.
He finally brought himself from the car to the front door of the fraternity house. He'd rehearsed many times over how this conversation could ensue. Nate and Cal could wholeheartedly apologize, admit the final rite of passage was undeserving, ask about his well-being and safety, assure him nothing of the sort would ever happen again. Or, Morgan would sneer about matter, tell him to grow some and get over it, and force him to think about whether he was really strong and capable enough to commit to the fraternal vows that bound the brotherhood.
Rafael exhaled a long sigh and rang the doorbell.
Rafael Rossi sat in the driver’s seat of his black 1968 Pontiac Firebird, trying to talk himself out of entering Alpha Sigma Phi’s three-story mansion. He was parked on the cobblestone driveway, right next to the fountain that’s water supply was replaced with beer on celebratory nights. He gripped the Firebird’s steering wheel and studied his reflection in the rearview mirror. The words of his father’s best friend, Vincenzo Iaconelli, resounded in his ears. This isn’t who you are, Rafael. They were spoken an hour after Rafael had been arrested for grand theft auto.
It wasn’t who he was. It was an accusation that belonged on his delinquent of an older brother’s criminal record. Not on Rafael’s ‘white as snow’, nonexistent one. Alpha Sigma Phi meant more to him than he would’ve suspected, though. A full-scholarship pre-engineering student on the 3-2 track, he’d hardly known what having a social life even meant. During his first year, he’d study around the clock, even reading chapters ahead to maintain his footing within 400-level courses. The work had paid off. He’d earned President List standings each semester, acing every test that came his way.
He hadn’t planned on revising his game plan for his second year at Bedford College. Not until his loneliness dawned on him. He was tired of buying lunch at the Mess Hall, and immediately bringing it back to his apartment, simply because he didn’t have anyone with whom he could sit. He was tired of not having plans for the weekend, while peers scrambled left and right from club to frat house party to beach. He was tired of walking across campus by himself, while others played Frisbee or volleyball on the lawn or swam in the lake against which Bedford was situated. Despite how popular his name, despite his fame as Bay Ridge High School’s star baseball pitch, Rafael Rossi was dreadfully friendless.
He made the decision to rush after spending an entire weekend between the covers of an engineering textbook. When Monday morning dawned, he was unable to believe he’d only left his apartment over the course of 72 hours to get meals from Burger King. Seeing the basketball team fraternize with each other outside the gym that morning, calling each other names as they monkeyed about and laughed, made Rafael think of but one word. Loser. So he hurried to the front of the Mess Hall, discreetly observed the Pan-Hellenic booth for a time, passed it back and forth, and then finally made peace with himself and signed up for rush.
Weeks later, here he was, a rightful criminal. He didn’t know hazing could go so terribly far. Bedford College’s Pan-Hellenic Council boasted 0% tolerance against it, but the fraternities still found loopholes. Everyone knew and accepted that it still happened. Rafael thought he’d prepared himself for whatever darts Alpha Sigma Phi might hurl at his body of a target board. Considering what other pledges had gone through, he’d seemed like a favorite from the start. At least all his bones were intact. It was a surprise no one had died over the past couple of months!
Rafael had been handpicked by the big names to be a part of the Tri-Delta family, a small camaraderie of Alpha Sigs who were legacies, active members within the chapter, and unbelievably wealthy. As such, they treated Rafael like gold. “We always catch our own.” Big Brother Cal’s words following one dangerous rite of passage. It was true, of course. They did take wonderful care of him. They had ensured not a single scratch or scrape had graced his body. But in Rafael’s eyes, they had let him down last night during initiation, because they had required of him something that threatened his future, and this couldn’t be an every-day thing.
He finally brought himself from the car to the front door of the fraternity house. He'd rehearsed many times over how this conversation could ensue. Nate and Cal could wholeheartedly apologize, admit the final rite of passage was undeserving, ask about his well-being and safety, assure him nothing of the sort would ever happen again. Or, Morgan would sneer about matter, tell him to grow some and get over it, and force him to think about whether he was really strong and capable enough to commit to the fraternal vows that bound the brotherhood.
Rafael exhaled a long sigh and rang the doorbell.