Page 2 of Love and Other Goals
“Come on, Beefs, let’s get inside,” I say to them.
Once we realized we were destined to be best friends freshman year, Teegan started calling us besties, but Amaya shot it down as an overused term of endearment. So Teegan switched to saying “Be Fris” like the first half of a BE-ST FRI-ENDS heart necklace. Apparently two separate syllables are just too much for us, so it got shortened to “Beefs.”
Everyone thinks we’re total weirdos every time we say it. But we’re weirdos who belong to each other, so it’s all part of the charm of our friendship.
We loop our arms together and head inside to a blessed blast of cool air. I just need to survive one final Bid Day, and then I can look ahead to the next phase of my life plan: one law school application, coming right up.
Bid Day is finally over. We’ve taken 800 photos in front of the giant “Bid Day 2023” poster to prove it.
I’m so over all the smiling, hugging, and crying girls everywhere. This is the part of sorority life that I will one hundred percent not miss.
Still, I’m proud of the bid class we got this year. Amaya seems pleased with how the week went and the increasing pool of diverse girls who went through recruitment this year. Townsend seems to be drawing more and more students every year, which is impressive for a mid-sized Division II college in Kansas. It’s located in Brooklyn, a city just a few hours west of the Kansas City metro—and yes, we’ve dubbed ourselves the superior little sister to Brooklyn, New York. We have some decent athletic teams, so it’s not surprising that Townsend has been getting a little more attention recently.
I’m certainly grateful I took my parents’ advice and gave Townsend a look; I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I hadn’t landed here. I’ve grown to love the vibe of Brooklyn, a perfect marriage of a college town and a suburb. The heart of the city is a retail area called Center Square, a central gathering space surrounded by plenty of restaurants, bars, and specialty shops. The Townsend campus is compact and beautiful, with all the limestone buildings and mature trees, and the student body small enough that you’re guaranteed to see someone you know while walking to class.
“Come on, Lana, we have to hurry and get changed!” Teegan says, pulling my arm toward the stairs. Our homecoming partner this year, the Alpha Epsilon fraternity, is throwing a joint party tonight to welcome our new members. Frat parties—another thing I won’t miss about sorority life. A Friday night watching movies with my Beefs or going out for late-night breakfast food with friends is more my speed than dodging passes from drunk frat guys.
But Teegan and I are serving as DDs tonight, and we always keep eagle eyes on the new girls to make sure no one gets taken advantage of at their first party. I know it’s important, even though I’d love nothing more than to crawl into bed with fluffy pajamas and Netflix.
After a quick change of clothes and taming my hair into a low ponytail, I drive over to the dorms to pick up a load of freshmen AOPis. Liz and three other girls come down the front steps, and I give them a bright smile and wave. Liz hops in the front seat while the other three pile in the back.
On the drive over, I tell the girls the speech we give freshmen every year: never accept a drink you didn’t pour, down a cup of water for every drink you have, designate a buddy and keep an eye out for each other, and don’t be afraid to say no to anything that makes you uncomfortable. I’m sure they’ve already heard these pep talks from their mothers before coming to college, but sometimes it carries more weight coming from a sorority sister.
I also let them know they’re welcome to stick with Teegan and me if they get overwhelmed, an offer Liz is quick to take me up on when we arrive. As much as I didn’t feel like coming tonight, I’m glad I can be a comfort zone for her. Her gratitude makes the crazy night worth it.
CHAPTER TWO
The next morning, I crack my eye open to check the time. 10:47 a.m.
I prop on one elbow and look at the other beds. Teegan is still fast asleep, eye mask on, and mouth wide open. Amaya is nowhere to be seen, but that’s not too surprising considering she skipped out on the party last night. Something about important sorority president business.
Flopping back on my pillow, I cover a huge yawn with my elbow. Teegan and I were supervising underclassmen and driving girls back to the dorms until 3:00 a.m. last night. Or rather, this morning. I consider falling back asleep, but my growling stomach has other plans. Yawning again, I head down to the dining room.
The AOPi house is quieter than usual, but I’m sure a lot of the girls are still sleeping off hangovers or bid week exhaustion (or both). I pop a bagel in the toaster and drink a glass of water as I pour coffee into a mug with some half-and-half.
I start my mellow Taylor Swift playlist and sip my coffee as I wait for my bagel to toast. I mindlessly scroll through Instagram—lots of party photos from last night, different frat houses but same vibes. I’m tapping through Instagram stories when my heart skips a beat and my thumb pauses at the sight of Aaron Adams’ blue eyes gazing at me from the screen. I hold down to look more closely at the story he posted. He’s with two of his fraternity brothers from Omega Gamma, probably at their house party.
His blond hair looks a little lighter and his skin slightly bronzed after eight weeks at the beach. His muscular frame filling the photo makes it obvious he made time for the gym. I haven’t seen Aaron since returning to campus, and I feel a surge of regret at choosing not to spend the summer with him.
Every year, a group of students from Townsend and other Midwest universities spend eight weeks in Florida for an intensive Bible-learning experience hosted by Arrow, the Christian ministry I’ve been involved with since freshman year. We stay in run-down condos on the beach, living in small groups with an older student as the leader. It’s not a bad way to spend the summer, working at jobs in the city on the weekdays and spending the evenings and weekends doing Bible studies or group trainings to grow in our faith.
The first summer, Teegan, Amaya, and I were there as participants in the same small group, and then we got to be small group leaders after sophomore year. This year, Teegan and Amaya were top-tier leaders at Summer Project, in charge of overseeing the small group leaders, as was Aaron. I’d been offered a spot but turned it down to go home to Kansas City over the summer. I know that Kent and Rachel, the head staff members of Arrow, were disappointed with my decision, but I needed to go back home and support my mom.
She’s an immigration lawyer and works for the organization that is tasked with resettling refugees on the Kansas side of the KC metro area. With the fall of Afghanistan to the Taliban, they’ve seen a huge influx of Afghan families needing placement services in addition to the regular arrivals through the refugee resettlement program.
Every time I called home last year, I could hear the stress in my mom’s voice. She and her colleagues were all overworked (and underpaid), but they were determined to help these families. Because Congress had yet to pass an Afghan Adjustment Act to provide a pathway to permanency for the Afghan families arriving in the US, many of them needed help with asylum applications and other legal processes to ensure their future safety.
Considering I plan to become an immigration lawyer just like my mom, it was a no-brainer to go back home and help over the summer. Working alongside her gave me experience in the various legal proceedings involved in helping families navigate our complicated immigration system. Mom’s connections even provided me the opportunity to spend two weeks in Washington D.C. with an advocacy group, meeting with legislators about the plight of our Afghan allies.
It was life-altering. And will certainly be a positive thing to include in my application to UC Davis School of Law. So, I didn’t really regret my decision for a second. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t having a little bit of FOMO over not being in Florida with all my friends from Arrow, including Aaron.
The toaster pops, so I temporarily turn my phone off to carry my bagel and coffee to a table in the deserted dining room. Once settled, I click to the next photo on Aaron’s story. I frown. This time there’s a big group crowding around him in a selfie, including several girls—a couple I recognize from Arrow, but others I don’t.
Setting my phone down on the table, I take a long drink of my coffee. Did I make a mistake not going to Summer Project? Did my absence cause Aaron to forget about me?
I’ve had a massive crush on Aaron ever since our first Summer Project. I’d noticed him during our freshman year, but after eight weeks of close proximity to his sense of humor, his eagerness to grow in his faith, his outgoing antics, and his radiant smile, I was a total goner.
It just so happened that his flexible post-college options fit perfectly into my well-laid plans for my future. His uncle owns a marketing firm based in Kansas City with remote workers all over the country. Aaron is majoring in business and marketing with a sure-fire job opportunity waiting for him once he graduates. A sure-fire job that could conveniently be done from, say, California.