Absorbed into Irrelevance

Samantha gave me red liquid in a crystal flute.

“Drink this, Dana,” she giggled. Samantha always giggled. She was short and cute and never laughed, only giggled.

I drank from the crystal flute. It tasted like punch from an eight year old’s birthday party.

“You’ll be in our sorority soon,” Samantha giggled. “We like you.”

I giggled back at Samantha. I had never giggled before I came here to college. I laughed openly and with tears and snorts sometimes when my best friend Jeannie and I watched movies together back in high school. Jeannie wasn’t here though, and I needed a friend.

Samantha was my guide through rush week at Lamda Chi, and the president of our chapter. I was told often how lucky I was to have Samantha as my “big,” as the elder sisters were called.

On day two of rush week, my roommate Pam walked into me on her way to our dormitory closet. “Oh!” she stammered. “I didn’t see you! Sorry, Dana.”

Pam pulled off her pink, cotton nightshirt and quickly threw on some band’s tshirt, signed by the drummer she claimed to have made out with a a concert over the summer. She stepped into jeans and effortlessly wrapped her uncombed hair into a bun, somehow making it look like she’d spent an hour on her hairstyle.

Day three of rush week came and my economics professor handed our essays back to the class, but I had not received mine. I raised my hand, “Professor Gaffney, do you have my paper graded?”

He looked up in my direction, surprised. “Oh, Dana, I didn’t see you there!”

Professor Gaffney handed me my graded essay. “Goodness, I walked right past you, didn’t I?” he chuckled nervously.

By day four of rush week, I was becoming paranoid because people were bumping into me in the student center and ignoring my requests to pass the salt in the dining hall.

“Pam,” I said nervously over the dining hall chatter, “is my voice weak? People keep ignoring me when I try to start up a conversation.”

Pam continued talking to the running back across the table from where we sat.

“Pam?” I said louder.

Pam looked up and around, startled. She then fixed her gaze on me. “Oh, Dana!” she sputtered, “When did you get here?”

“We came in together,” I answered, dryly.

“Oh!” she blushed. “That’s right! I’m sorry, Dana, my mind must be on other things,” she winked at the husky football player.

“Hi,” I said to the hulking, young man across the table.

He didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“So Pam, is it?” he smiled over ketchup packets at my roommate sitting beside me.

Pam suddenly sounded stupid. “Uh huh,” she giggled, then flipped her hair.

“There’s a party at my fraternity this weekend. The girls from Lamda Chi and my fraternity are hosting a benefit for those blind kids in the city. Want to come?”

Pam tilted her head. “Sure,” she smiled mischievously. “What’s the name of your fraternity?”

“Boner Delta Dumbass,” he said proudly.

That wasn’t the name of his fraternity, but those were the words I heard coming out of his big, dumb mouth. I rolled my eyes.

“My roommate is trying to become a Lamda Chi,” Pam told Dumbass.

“Oh really? Maybe I’ll meet her at the party this weekend.”

“I’m right here,” I told Big Dumb.

Big Dumb continued talking to Pam, but neither acknowledged me throughout the rest of our meal. They finished eating then left me sitting there all alone.

“I feel invisible,” I told Samantha on day five of rush week. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes.

Samantha giggled. She hugged me and led me to the great window of Lamda Chi’s sorority house, which overlooked the row of other sororities and fraternities, dubbed Greek Life Row.

“You are changing, Sister,” she smiled. “You are becoming one of us. It’s normal to feel like you are disappearing, because you are. You’ll come out a beautiful butterfly, hardly recognizable from that pitiful girl Dana, who showed up on our doorstep not long ago.”

I didn’t understand Samantha, but I wanted to be accepted. I wanted friends.

“It’s day six of rush week!” Samantha greeted me the next day out back in the garden of our sorority house. “Tonight is the fundraiser we co-host with Delta Dumbasses.”

Samantha had not said Delta Dumbasses. The fraternity members were such absolute dumbasses, that I never bothered to learn their full, Greek name.

“Stay with me,” Samantha giggled. “I’ll introduce you to all the important people.”

I giggled back at Samantha, trying to mimic her hand movements, her posture, and her silly small talk chatter. I tried to become Samantha, because everyone said she was the most valued sister in our sorority.

Pam came through the tall, oak doors of the sorority house, escorted by Big Dumb Linebacker.

“Hello,” Pam smiled at me. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. Your house is lovely.”

“Hi, Pam,” I smiled as I shook her hand lightly, the way I’d seen Samantha do with other guests.

“Oh! You know my name?” she blushed.

“It’s me, Dana,” I said. I thought Pam was playing a joke on me.

“My roommate’s name is Dana,” she smiled. “What a coincidence!” she giggled. Her giggle sounded like Samantha’s giggle. Samantha made everyone want to copy her. Samantha was the fire for all us moths.

Pam and the linebacker left to mingle. I was still confused about Pam seemingly not recognizing me.

“Samantha?” I began timidly. “I feel a little different.”

Samantha giggled, “I know. I felt the same way, too, when I was becoming a Lamda Chi!”

Samantha took my hand and led me outside, gesturing with her arm, in a great sweeping motion, to the campus beyond the row of Greek Life. “Dana is fading fast. She was boring and wore plain clothing. Soon, you’ll be one of Lamda Chi’s most cherished sisters! What will your new name be?”

I stared at Samantha with shock and horror. She spoke insanity.

“It’s new and scary,” Samantha softly giggled, “but you’re almost there.” Samantha took my other hand and stared into my eyes. “How about Diana? I’ve always liked that name,” Samantha giggled again. “You’re going to be fabulous, doll,” Samantha winked at me.

“Nobody is recognizing me anymore,” I whimpered. “I don’t like this.”

“You will. It’s why you came to me,” she smiled. “You sure have changed, Diana, for the better, certainly. Just relax. You’re almost complete.”