Sorority Wars Official

Lena shrugged. “Because you looked nervous at the pancake breakfast last week. You’re not a soldier. You’re a student who just wanted friends. I respect that.” She paused. “Also, I hate a boring victory.”

“Theta Tau has taken the flag three years running,” said Margot, the Psi Delta captain, a senior with a razor-sharp bob and a whistle hanging from her neck like a war medal. “They cheat. They lie. They hide the flag in their bras , Chloe. Last year, we found it taped under a toilet lid in their house. This year, we end them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Chloe asked.

And for the first time that morning, Chloe laughed. She’d come to Blackwood for a degree. But she’d found something better: a war she never knew she wanted to win, and an enemy who made it worth fighting. Sorority Wars

She arrived just as Margot kicked open the door. Inside, there was no purple flag. Only a dozen Theta Tau seniors, armed with supersoakers filled with neon green slime. The Psi Deltas walked right into an ambush.

Chloe looked out the tiny attic window. The ground was a three-story drop. Below, the war raged on—sisters screaming, slime flying, dignity evaporating.

“Not bad, yellowbird,” she said. “Next year, I’m recruiting you.” Lena shrugged

“I know where I’m going,” Chloe lied.

Margot, covered in green slime, stared. Lena, emerging from the boathouse with a towel, stopped mid-wipe. The referees—three exhausted RAs—raised their binoculars.

But Chloe didn’t stop. While the others shrieked and slipped in the goo, she sprinted the long way around the lake, up the fire escape of the Theta house, and into the attic. There, hanging from a chandelier like a taunt, was the purple owl flag. You’re a student who just wanted friends

Lena stepped closer. “No, you don’t. Because Sarah is my little cousin. And she’s been feeding your team fake intel for the last hour. The flag never left our attic.”

“Flag captured by Psi Delta rookie,” one announced. “Game over.”

Trapped. No phone. And somewhere below, Lena’s laugh echoed up the stairs.

Lena walked over, wiped a smear of slime from Chloe’s cheek, and smiled—the real smile, not the smirk.

“You’re lost, yellowbird,” the Theta said. Her name tag read Lena. President.