by Wood, Vivian
I know I can make them do my bidding, which will drive father fucking crazy. So I walk up to the little group, surveying them with a critical expression.
“Don’t you two have some chores to do?” I ask them. “That is, if you want to be inducted…”
They both swallow, looking at one another. We assigned all four of the freshman pledges plenty of shit to do this week, washing the older guys cars, cleaning the house top to bottom, and taking their elders’ laundry to the cleaners.
My father grins, his expression sharklike. “Well, dont let me stand in the way of that, boys…”
“Thank you,” one of the pledges says, bobbing his head before he follows his classmate up the stairs and disappears inside.
As they do, my mother makes an appearance. Tall, blonde, and thin as a rail, she’s dressed like a hooker in her ridiculously short ivory dress with long, billowy sleeves. A very expensive hooker, but still. She wears her trademark slash of red lipstick, and there are matching lipstick marks on the glass of wine she clutches.
She hiccups daintily, not even noticing me at first. She’s drunk, and her favorite pastime when she’s drunk is to needle my father for things that are usually out of his control.
“James, dearest, it is just so cold in the house here. Isn’t there anything you can do about making it livable and not a tomb?” She totters on the highest high heels, somehow balancing perfectly.
My father rolls his eyes. “Grace, I told you that it was going to be cold.”
My mom swings her gaze around to me, startling. “Alexander! Where did you pop out from?”
I dont even bother with pointing out that I was here already. Kissing her cheek, I repress a sigh. “Hello, mother. I didn’t know you two would be around today. I thought you were sailing for Greece or something.”
My mother gives me a vague smile. “Oh we are, darkling. We are. We leave tomorrow. Your father just wanted to stop by and make sure things were going smoothly.”
Her wine sloshes over the rim of her wine glass as she gestures with it. My father cuts in, sounding relieved to finally be talking again.
Well, less talking more orating.
“Alexander is going to enjoy this college life while he can. Isn’t that right, Alexander? You dont know how great you’ve got it right now, before you have the pressures of a job and responsibilities…”
I try to keep my face neutral while my father goes on about how hard life becomes the second you leave college. My family expects me to step into a role in the family business, to become a bully-cum-leader just like my father. I’m not so sure, especially if it means I’ll have to marry someone that I hate, the way my father and mother feel about each other.
“James…” my mother says, in that pitchy voice that usually means he’s about to get an earful.
And right then is when Emily Danes decides to waltz across the yard, her expression set. She’s on edge, her dirty pink Converse making a beeline right for me.
Great. I am already in the middle of awkward family shit and then Emily wants something. Perfect.
There isn’t even the chance to steer my parents inside before Emily is coming up to me. Her eyes slide to my parents but she ignores them at first, which is a fatal mistake. She jogs her stack of books, leaning them on one hip. She shoves her hand through her short hair, sounding frustrated.
“Wolf, we need to talk about the class project—”
My mother draws herself up to her full height. I can see a glower reach my father’s expression. They definitely aren’t used to being ignored, especially not by someone who looks as unpolished as Emily.
“Excuse me,” my mother says, using her most icy tone. “Who are you?”
My father immediately talks over my mother. “Who are you?”
My cheeks stain with red. I dont embarrass easily, but damn if my parents dont manage to do it right away. I clear my throat.
Emily is looking at my father with such a wide eyed, deer in the headlights look that I almost feel bad for her. She’s red as a beet, too.
“Emily, these are my parents,” I say. “James and Grace Astor. Mother and father, this is Emily. She’s one of my classmates.”
I leave off the end of the sentence. It its full form it would’ve been something along the lines of, a classmate who I fantasize about bending over the lab table and fucking until we are both sore.
Emily glances at me with no small amount of alarm, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. Then she actually fucking curtsies, of all things.
“Ma’am,” she says to my mother.
My mother gives her a disgruntled look, like Emily is something that she’s just wiped off her fucking designer heels. My father has mastered his imperious expression, casting a hooded look my way.
The way he essentially ignored Emily is colder than fucking ice. “Alexander, we have business to attend to inside.”
With that, he turns on his heel, disappearing inside the house. My mother gives Emily another glance, clearly disapproving. Then she smiles frostily.
“It was a pleasure, I am sure.”
She takes herself and her wine glass inside, spinning and strutting on those stiletto heels. I’m left behind, vaguely wanted to apologize to Emily, even though I haven’t done anything wrong. She didn’t know, that’s all.
Shifting in place, I look down at her. “What did you need?”
“Nothing,” she blurts, her dark eyes two deep wells of hurt. “I… it can wait until the next class. I shouldn’t have come.”
No, she shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t be at Campbell College, period. If there is anything that has been reinforced in the last few minutes, it’s that she doesn’t belong in this world.
And yet, here she is, in scuffed shoes and home-cut hair. Her gentle curves and worried eyes might cry for my attention, but I know better than that. I know what is expected of me.
A well bred girl, as boring as she is pretty. That’s what I keep telling myself. She’s like Mia Gold last year, before Asher drove her away. Mia was exactly the ticket before Asher slept with her and shamed her off of campus.
“It’s all right,” I say at last. My gaze is pulled away from her, toward Rose House. “I should go.”
“Okay,” Emily blurts, whirling and halfway-running out of the yard.
I allow my gaze to return to her figure as she retreats. She has an incredible ass. Maybe I’ll fuck her this year, get her out of my system.
Then I can get her off my mind, move on to other things.
Maybe… I cock my head, following her with my eyes as she scurries down the sidewalk.
“Alexander?” my mother calls, her voice faint.
Sighing, I turn and head inside.
7
Emily
I’m in the majestic dining hall, trying desperately to scan the plastic identification card I’ve been given so I can advance on to the steaming buffet tables. There is a metal arm blocking my entrance; the only way to make it rise is to swipe my card.
Gritting my teeth, I try to scan the card with my own smiling picture on it for the twelfth time. The card reader beeps antagonistically. It seems to almost be laughing at me. A group of girls comes up and I step back to let them by.
They all scan their cards without a problem, which only makes me more frustrated. I’m hungry and the smell of frying food wafts to my nose. But I can only get the food if the card reader lets me through.
One of the girls pauses just before she scans her card. She looks at me, her statuesque appearance and hippie-ish garb making her seem like an old world goddess. She tilts her head, making her bun and her heavy silver hoop earrings move to the side.
“Come on,” she gestures to me. “I heard that some people’s cards aren’t working yet. Come through the gate with me.”
I look at the card reader with some apprehension. “I don’t want to get in trouble…”
She laughs and it lights up her whole face. Her big green eyes soften, there are laugh li
nes around her button nose, and her glistening pink lips widen. God, she is really pretty.
“I’ll scan my card twice,” she promises, rolling her eyes a little. “It’s not like anyone is even looking, anyway.”
I glance around and realize that she is right. Scooting forward, I let her pass through first. Then when she scans her card a second time, I go through.
“Thank you so much. I will pay you back as soon as I get my card fixed.”
She half-rolls her eyes again.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it. You have a good aura.” She gestures to the space around my head. For some reason, I blush. “I like it. I’m Cassandra, by the way.”
She sticks out her hand. I hurry to shake it, my hand shaking a bit. “Emily.”
She smiles. “I think you should come sit with us. It seems like fate, doesn’t it?”
I try to think of the appropriate responds to that question. “Ummm… yes?”
“Great. See you on the other side, then.” Cassandra gives me a wink and whisks herself off toward the salad bar in the middle of the room.
Left to my own devices, I spend several minutes walking the daunting circuit of foods. There are several grills, each with a chef waiting to take the orders of the students lined up at them. After a second, I realize that each grill has a different list of menu items.
One is making cheesesteaks and fries. One is making grilled chicken and caesar salads. One is making gyros. There is a whole wall of nothing but different kinds of cereals. And to finish it all off, there is a dessert area. All in all, it is overwhelming.
I end grabbing a gyro and a side plate of caesar salad. I put them on one of the red dining hall trays, uncertain about every single move. It’s all just so new and the last thing I want is to do something wrong. When I reach the area where you can grab drinks, I’m too overwhelmed to get anything other than water.
Finally, I walk out into the actual dining area. I stop and stare, agog. High ceilings arch upward like a cathedral. Big chandeliers hang everywhere, glinting gently above three sets of oversized tables, which seem to go on and on in rows of ten. There are tons of students here, some sitting on the side and studying quietly while they eat and some sitting toward the middle and chattering away.
I see a hand raise and hear my name. “Emily! Over here!”
It’s Cassandra, waving me over to the table. Clutching my red tray tightly, I take a deep breath and start walking over. The table is right in the middle of the dining hall. As I set my tray down next to Cassandra, I feel the eyes of the three other girls she is eating with.
One I happen to know already, my roommate Lily. She gives Cassandra a look of vague disgust as I sit down. Not that Cassandra seems to notice at all. Instead she waves me into my seat, across from a prim redhead and an extremely fashionable-looking blonde.
“Ladies, meet Emily. Emily, this is Alice, Mathilde, and Lily. We all went to school together at Waltham Academy. Didn’t we, girls?”
She turns to the girls, who it seems were interrupted mid-conversation. Lily is stone faced, Alice gives me a brief smile, and Mathilde just flips her blonde hair over her shoulder.
I’m not sure if Cassandra decides to ignore the other girls or whether she even notices the distinctly unfriendly attitudes. Either way, Cassandra beams at me, which is like the sun shining down onto my patriotic little plot of land.
“Have you started classes yet, Emily?” she asks. She picks at her salad and looks at me, expectant.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. “I have. I had biochemistry with Dr. Nefflinger this morning.”
I make a face to indicate how I feel about the class. Cassandra’s dark brows lift in surprise.
“Biochemistry?”
Her dark head swivels to the side a little as she considers me. I flush a bit.
“I’m good at science and math.”
Correction. I’m actually great at them. I took college level classes in my high school and got almost perfect scores on the SATs in those areas. Campbell requires you to take a test if you want to place out of the first or second levels of biology, and I got almost every question right on that too.
But I don't say any of that to Cassandra. Mathilde turns to me, looking suspicious.
“Isn’t that like… a junior level class or something?”
I can feel the heat flaring in my face. “Something like that, yes.”
Cassandra makes a face. “I’m terrible at all things science. I’m taking a class that is called How Animals Work and it is hard.” She waves a hand. “I’m here for the art classes. Painting, pottery making, sculpting…”
She waves a hand prettily. Looking Cassandra, it is exactly what I expected of someone that looks and dresses like she does. Of course she’s so beautiful that it doesn’t really matter what she majors in. With her looks and a degree from Campbell, there will be no shortage of opportunities for Cassandra.
I clear my throat. “Different strokes for different folks. And hey, at least you don’t have my lab partner, who is the worst.”
Cassandra’s light brown eyes twinkle. “Is she a mouth breather or something?”
That makes me smile. “No. And it’s a he. He’s just such a prick. And he calls himself Wolf, even though his actual name is—”
Lily bangs her fist on the table, interrupting me. “You have Wolf Astor as you lab partner and you’re complaining about it?”
She looks at me as though I’ve sprouted about four alien heads. Her disgust makes me feel small again, after Cassandra’s nurturing gaze. I can’t hide my blush.
“You guys know him, then?”
“Yes,” all four girls say at once. They look at each other, giggling and turning pink.
“He was the hottest guy at Waltham,” Alice informs me. “Well, him and Archer Ellis. They like… ran that school.”
Cassandra rolls her eyes. “It’s true. But I’m trying not to live like I’m in high school anymore. And I can see why you wouldn’t want one of the boys from the Skulls and Thorns as a lab partner.”
“Wait, the Skulls and Thorns?” I ask, confused.
Mathilde shakes her head. “They’re only the most exclusive secret society on campus. And Wolf is the de facto leader of the pack. You’re lucky to be paired with him in any way.”
“He’s mean!” I protest. “Or at least dismissive.”
Mathilde snorts derisively. “Of course you would think that. He’s too busy to even pay attention to you unless you’re hot.” Her eyes dip down to what I’m wearing and her lips curl upward. “So basically, you don’t even exist in his eyes.”
“Mathilde!” Cassandra scolds. “God, you’re pissy when you haven’t eaten. Go get something to snack on and quit being a mega bitch.”
Mathilde rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Alice and I have a French class starting soon anyway.”
She rises. She shoots a look at Alice and Lily, who get up too.
“Later Cass,” Lily says, tossing her hair as she walks off.
“It was nice to meet you,” Alice says, brushing off her black dress. She picks up her tray and heads for the tray return, hurrying to catch up with Lily.
I look at Cassandra. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to chase off your friends.”
Cassandra rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. They don’t like change, that’s all there is to it. Anyway, you were in the middle of telling me about being partnered with Wolf? Tell me everything.”
Flushing, I shake my head. “I told him I wouldn’t do his work for him. He didn’t take it super well. But then I ended up doing it all anyway.”
“That sucks.” Cassandra wrinkles her nose. “But at least you got an introduction! Lily has been trailing after Wolf for years and I’m not even sure if he knows her name.”
I look down at my tray, picking a little bit of my pita apart. “What’s the deal with the Skulls and Thorns?”
Cassandra takes a bite of her salad, chewing thoughtfully. “Mmm. They really do run the school. They have a hous
e on the edge of campus called Rose House.”
“Oh! I actually was by there the other day. It looks like rich people live there.” The words leave my mouth before I’ve really even thought about them. As soon as I say them my eyes widen and I flush, but Cassandra throws her head back and laughs.
“You’re a riot!” she declares, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah, their house does look very wealthy.”
“Do they work like a fraternity?”
Cassandra looks pensive for a moment. “Sort of. They rush and have pledges, although the details of that are pretty hush-hush. They throw big, awesome parties. And their recruits are always the most successful guys. All that kind of stuff.”
“So… a fraternity.” I screw my face up.
Cassandra is in the middle of another bite of her salad. She shakes her head, swallowing. “Not exactly. I’d say that they are all the social parts of a fraternity, but they also have some rituals and secrets that aren’t just for anyone. And they have some dark secrets.” She pauses, then gives me a sunny smile. “Or so I’ve heard. You know how gossip gets around.”
I pick at my gyro some more. “What does that mean?”
“They are not for the faint of heart, I guess.” Cassandra pulls her phone out of her purse and groans. “I’m going to be late for my art history class if I don’t hurry. See you soon, though?”
She rises, making eye contact with me so I know that it’s not her way of blowing me off. I nod.
“Thanks for lunch,” I say. She beams at me again.
“Anytime!” She pulls her bag open, digs around for a second, then offers me a business card. “Text me, okay?”
I’m left staring at the card she gave me. It is thick linen card stock, white with an embossed gold outline of a rose. Cassandra Westwood, it reads. Model, photographer, painter, muse. On the back are her details.
I look up to say that I will call her, but she’s already gone.
Grinning, I take a bite of my gyro. I made my first friend at Campbell College, and she’s somebody’s muse.
