Christmas Surprises by RodG Under the Mistletoe writing prompt entry |
I was looking forward to Christmas vacation like most students on campus, but I was anticipating the last sorority soirée of the year even more. Earlier that Fall, I joined a fraternity, and though still a pledge I was entitled to attend such a Greek affair. Classes finished on Friday afternoon, but Kappa Kappa Kappa was having their Christmas Party that evening. Because the KKK sorority house was huge, members of every fraternity were invited. The place was stuffed— with mostly guys—when I arrived. A pretty dark-haired KKK pledge greeted me. “Welcome to Kappa Kappa Kappa,” she chirped. “Please see our tree at the end of this hall. It took us a week to decorate.” Then she blushed slightly. “Refreshments are in the basement.” I pushed my way through a throng of boisterous frat upperclassmen still wearing winter coats and brandishing empty mugs embossed with Greek symbols. Eventually I found the towering tree festooned with ornaments, lights, and shiny tinsel. I was peering at the angel way up atop the tree when a female voice inquired, “Like it?” I turned and stared a long moment at the lovely redhead speaking. Though wearing heels, the top of her head could not have touched my chin. She wore a red Christmas sweater and a flaring red skirt with gold reindeer prancing around the hem. “I do,” I said and thought You even more. Her green eyes sparkled and she smiled. “You’re in my Spanish class, but I don’t know your name." “Pete . . . uh . . . Peter Johnson.” “I’m Robin and glad that class is over. You going home tomorrow, Pete?” Her hand brushed my arm. I grinned. “I live in town. Commute. You?” “I come all the way from Winnemucca,” she laughed. She gave me an appraising look. “Let’s go over there.” She didn’t point, but clasped my arm and led me to a spot about ten feet from the fire place where flames stabbed upwards. “No one’s around, but it won’t be long.” “Why?” I asked. She pointed upwards. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the ceiling. Then she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. “Wow!” I exclaimed as she slowly unwrapped her arms. “You’re cute, Pete. Wish we’d met earlier this semester.” “Well, maybe we can go out when you return.” Her smile vanished. “I’m not coming back.” I gaped. “Why not? You didn’t flunk out, did you?” Now she smirked. “All A’s, but . . . no pin.” “Huh?” “My dad gave me a semester to find a husband here.” “What?” “Like all of my sorority sisters,” she pointed at several sprinkled around the room, “I came to get my MRS. No one proposed, so I’m going home. Winnemucca boys aren’t so bad. This time next year I’ll have a diamond.” She waggled that infamous finger on her left hand. “But I’m still here. Kiss me again.” I cupped her face and gave her a lingering kiss. “Nice,” she purred. “You thirsty? Let’s get a beer.”
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