PLEDGED
Prologue: Before the Letters
Amara Bennett was three weeks away from graduating high school, and she and her best friend, Jada Monroe, had already planned their first year at Bellamy University.
They were going to live in the same dorm, attend the same classes whenever possible, and pledge the Ivory Circle.
At least, that was the plan.
“Why does a student organization need a mansion?” Jada asked, looking at Amara’s phone. “Seriously, look at this place.”
Amara laughed. “Because the Ivory Circle is not an ordinary organization.”
“Apparently not. My entire house could fit inside that living room.”
“Stop exaggerating.”
“I’m not. Look at the staircase.”
Amara took her phone back and zoomed in on the photograph. A group of young women stood outside a large white mansion, dressed in emerald green, royal blue, and gold. They wore matching blazers, gold jewelry, and small pins on their lapels.
Above the photograph were three words.
THE IVORY CIRCLE.
Amara had been researching the organization since sophomore year. At Bellamy University, the Ivory Circle was known for its philanthropy, influential alumni, and selective membership. Its members held leadership positions across campus, organized major charity events, and maintained connections with graduates who had gone on to successful careers.
The organization had a reputation that extended well beyond the university.
Getting accepted was difficult. Students needed strong academic records, campus involvement, recommendations, and the ability to make a good impression during recruitment.
Amara had already started preparing.
She kept a folder on her laptop filled with information about the organization, its history, and its members. She followed the university’s official social media pages and watched every recruitment video she could find.
Jada liked the idea of joining, but she was less interested in the research.
“You know we have to get accepted before you start planning our outfits, right?” Jada asked.
“I know that.”
“Because you already have the colors picked out, and I am pretty sure you have been looking at those blazers for months.”
“Emerald green, royal blue, and gold. They look good together.”
“They do. I will give you that.”
Amara smiled and returned to the photograph.
She imagined the two of them standing outside the mansion in their own matching blazers. They would attend events, meet people, and become involved in the university. More importantly, they would have access to opportunities that could help them after graduation.
She wanted to make the most of college, and the Ivory Circle seemed like a good place to start.
“Think about it,” Amara said. “We graduate in three weeks. By August, we will be at Bellamy. By the end of the semester, we could be members.”
Jada leaned back against the bed. “You make everything sound so easy.”
“It is not going to be easy. That is why we have to prepare.”
“Some of us are preparing to pass our final exams.”
“We can do both.”
“I am passing my exams first. Then I will worry about joining a secret society.”
“It is not a secret society.”
“Then why does everyone act like there is some mystery surrounding it?”
Amara paused.
She had wondered about that herself. The Ivory Circle published information about its community service projects, campus events, and scholarship programs, but very little about its internal traditions. Members rarely discussed the details of the pledging process publicly.
Amara assumed that was part of what made membership special.
“They probably want to keep certain traditions within the organization,” she said.
“Probably,” Jada replied. “As long as they are not expecting me to do anything ridiculous.”
“You do not even know what they ask you to do.”
“Exactly. That is why I am concerned.”
Amara laughed.
They had been best friends since freshman year, when Amara transferred into Jada’s history class halfway through the semester. She had accidentally taken another student’s assigned seat, and Jada had quietly spent the next ten minutes explaining the classroom seating arrangement to her.
The conversation somehow turned into a discussion about their teacher’s terrible toupee. By the end of the period, Amara had been trying so hard not to laugh that she could barely speak.
They had been close ever since.
Over the years, they had helped each other through family disagreements, disappointing relationships, school dances, and the usual problems that came with growing up. They had different personalities, but they understood each other.
Amara was organized and ambitious. She liked having a plan, and she rarely pursued something without researching it first.
Jada was more relaxed. She worked hard when something mattered to her, but she did not see the point in worrying about every possible outcome before it happened.
Their differences usually worked in their favor.
With graduation approaching, however, Amara had started thinking more seriously about what would happen when they left home. They had spent years talking about college, but now they were close enough to see it becoming real.
She wanted them to have the same experience.
“Promise me something,” Amara said.
Jada looked at her suspiciously. “What?”
“Promise me we will not let college change our friendship.”
Jada’s expression softened.
“Why would it?”
“People change when they get to college. They meet new friends, join organizations, start dating people. Everything becomes different.”
“That does not mean we have to stop being friends.”
“I know. I just do not want us to become those people who barely speak after graduation.”
“We will not.”
“Promise?”
Jada held out her pinky.
“I promise.”
Amara linked hers with Jada’s.
“And we are staying in the same dorm.”
“If the university gives us the same room.”
“We already requested each other as roommates.”
“Then we should be fine, unless you start snoring.”
“I do not snore.”
“You fell asleep during our movie marathon last weekend and made a sound that scared me.”
“That was one time.”
“It was a very loud time.”
Amara grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her. Jada caught it, laughing.
Their graduation caps sat on the desk beside a stack of college paperwork. Both girls had decorated their caps with rhinestones and glitter, and they had spent most of Saturday arguing over the placement of the letters and whether the designs needed more decorations.
They had finally agreed on the finished results.
Now, with only three weeks left of high school, their attention had shifted toward the next stage of their lives.
Bellamy University had accepted them both. Their financial aid paperwork was nearly complete, and they had begun shopping for their dorm rooms.
The Ivory Circle was the one thing they had not secured.
Membership was not guaranteed, even for students with excellent grades and strong recommendations. The organization selected a limited number of new members each year, and its recruitment process could take several weeks.
Amara knew there was a chance they would not both be accepted.
She simply did not like thinking about it.
“What happens if one of us gets in and the other does not?” Jada asked.
Amara lowered her phone.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because it is possible.”
“Then we figure it out.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only answer I have right now.”
Jada studied her for a moment.
“You really want this, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“More than just being part of an organization?”
Amara considered the question.
She wanted to make friends, but she also wanted to be around people who were serious about their futures. She wanted to develop connections, participate in meaningful projects, and graduate with more than a degree.
She had grown up watching people struggle to get opportunities that seemed to come easily to others. She wanted to put herself in a position where she would have more choices.
The Ivory Circle represented the kind of college experience she had imagined for herself.
“I want to make something of myself,” Amara said. “I want to graduate with good grades, get a job I actually like, and have people around me who want to succeed, too. I think joining could help with that.”
Jada nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“And I want us to do it together.”
“We will try,” Jada said. “But if I do not get accepted, I am still going to have a good college experience.”
Amara smiled. “Of course.”
“I mean it. I am not spending four years being miserable over an organization.”
“I know.”
“And you are not allowed to become unbearable if you get accepted before me.”
Amara laughed. “I would never.”
“You say that now.”
Jada reached for the phone and looked at the photograph again.
“I do want the blazer, though.”
“I knew you would.”
“And the pin.”
“Obviously.”
“And I want to see the mansion in person.”
Amara took the phone back. “Then we need to get accepted.”
For the next half hour, they discussed what they would wear to recruitment, how they would introduce themselves, and which campus events they should attend once the semester began. Jada suggested they focus on meeting current students instead of spending all their time looking at photographs.
Amara agreed, then added that they should also prepare answers to common interview questions.
Jada rolled her eyes, but she opened her laptop.
Outside, the afternoon sun was beginning to fade. Amara’s mother called from downstairs to ask whether they wanted dinner, and Jada answered before Amara could respond.
They gathered their things and headed for the kitchen, leaving the college brochures and graduation caps on the desk.
The Ivory Circle would have to wait until tomorrow.
Neither girl knew what the organization expected from its prospective members. They had seen the polished photographs, read the university’s official descriptions, and heard stories from students who claimed to know someone who had pledged.
They had not yet met anyone who would tell them the whole story.
For now, they were excited about Bellamy, their upcoming graduation, and the possibility of joining the organization they had spent so much time discussing.
In three weeks, they would receive their diplomas.
In three months, they would begin college.
And before their first semester was over, both would learn that getting into the Ivory Circle was only the beginning.
