by Wood, Vivian
“Interesting thoughts, Emily Danes.”
“I’m not sure it will come to anything,” she says, each word enunciated carefully.
I don’t know what it’s for. I don’t know what it’s about. But I’m sure it won’t come to anything. How could it? I should tell her not to go down this road, but what the hell road is it? I tamp down the questions before they can boil over.
“Anyway,” Emily shakes her head. “I’m moving on to biochem. Are you...are you all caught up?”
“Why don’t you quiz me and we’ll find out?”
She flicks her eyes toward me. “Are you sure?”
It sounds like a double-layered question. I answer the most obvious one. “Teach away. I’m here to study.”
Winter
32
Emily
The next time I see Alice is a few days after Halloween. I am knee deep in midterms, standing in the line to get into the dining hall. I’m super sleep deprived and incredibly stressed out by the tests I still have to take. Juggling a huge pile of books, I am almost on the verge of tears when Alice saunters up to me in line.
“Hey, bitch.” She does a double take at the giant bags under my eyes, my black leggings, an oversized tee, and my messy bun. “Damn girl. Are you okay?”
I look at her, redheaded, rested, and not carrying a single thing. Right now, in the frame of mind that I’m in, I can’t conceive of anyone not behaving exactly like I am. Of course, I am aiming to do perfectly on my midterms.
“Do you just not care about midterms?” I blurt out without thinking.
Alice arches a brow, running her hands down her dress. It’s super short and light pink, with white sleeves and a white peter pen collar. She looks exactly as pulled together as I am not right now.
“Not as much as you do, obviously.” She frowns at me. “You don’t have to bite my head off about it, either.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, blushing deeply. “It’s just… I’m freaking out about them. How are you not?”
Alice crosses her arms. “I took the classes that are appropriate for my actual age level. I know that you took biochemistry and a couple of other classes that are super hard, but… well, let’s just say that I think we’re in college for different reasons. I’m not looking to break the mold here.”
That makes me look at her with puzzlement. As the line slowly moves up, I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “My father is a Fortune 500 CEO. My mom is a famous clothing designer. I will probably go straight into design school after college. My path is already set for me. All that is left is for me to find someone to marry. Preferably one of the Skulls, just like my dad.”
She rolls her eyes as she says the last bit.
“Don’t you find that… I don’t know… stifling?” I ask.
She just shrugs again. “I don’t know. It is what it is.”
I bite my lip, nodding vaguely. We finally reach the point where we can scan our cards, and we part soon after while we each get a tray of food. When I set my tray and my giant pile of books down though, Alice surprises me by sliding into a spot beside me.
I raise my eyebrows and she smirks. “I feel like you might be too tired to process this, but I think we should talk about what you almost walked into at Rose House last week.”
Staring at her with a slightly stunned look on my face, I shrug. She’s probably right about both the fact that I am extremely tired and how I still have a lot of questions about that night.
“You start,” I say, digging in to my burger. “I’m curious about how you know about all of that, but I’m really hungry too.”
Her lips quirk. “I can see that. Enjoy your hamburger. I just… I feel like you probably have a ton of questions, and I’m here for it. It all boils down to the fact that I was practically raised in Rose House.”
“You and Mathilde both,” I mumble, my mouth pulling down into a frown.
She sighs. “I heard about your little spat. Mathilde was pretty pissed. But, because we are all friends, I convinced her that she was wrong. She’ll probably never say anything, but you guys are good.”
I glance up at her, taking a bite of my burger. I take a moment to chew and swallow before I ask anything else. “Oh.”
“Mhmm.” She smiles.
I bite my lip, hesitating before pushing Alice for more details about what we saw at Rose House. “You said you’ve been hanging around Rose House for a long time?”
“My father was a member of the Skulls when he was our age. My mother was a Thistle. They love each other soooo much that it’s a little sickening.”
“So you’ve seen… whatever was behind that door… you’ve seen that before?”
She nods, eating a spoonful of soup. “Yeah. It’s just one of their traditions. You know, secret society whisper-y stuff. Some of the older legacy members — like my father — dress up in costumes and induct the new members. It’s supposed to be super cloak and dagger but it’s…” She pauses to consider her words. “It just looks way cooler than it really is, honestly.”
That makes sense. But something else bothers me. “How did you know to come and find me?”
Alice pulls a face, tossing a sheet of her perfect auburn hair over her shoulder. “Cassandra said she saw you vanish downstairs. She knows that the downstairs is supposed to be off limits to guests.”
I make a face right back at her. “You guys were keeping tabs on me?”
The last thing I expect is for Alice to blush, but she does. “My father warned me beforehand to keep everybody away from the back staircase. I just slipped a little bit. Ellis was talking to me… and I let myself get distracted.”
She cranes her neck, making me turn around to see what she is looking at. Of course it’s the Skulls. Wolf and Ellis are leading the way, Max and Matthew trailing them, looking sullen. My heart speeds up as I look between Wolf and Max.
They are light and dark, a golden god and a sly hipster.
“Aren’t they just ridiculously good looking?” Alice sighs.
Biting my lip, I smile. “They are.”
Her voice is all breathy. “And we are the Thistles to their Roses. We are the luckiest girls on campus.”
Looking between Max and Wolf, I don’t know about that. I’m stuck between them, making myself either the most lucky or the most cursed. All I know is that I will have to choose between them sooner rather than later…
Somehow, some way.
33
Wolf
I put it out of my mind. I have to.
Asher’s name in Emily’s notebook doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t change the way she looks at me when I find her in the study room at the library. Or the den at Rose House. Or any number of semi-secluded places. Those few lines in her notebook have not made me want to drink her in any less, and can anybody fucking blame me? I want a break. I have been living in the horror of Asher’s death for months.
November is cold. Every day on campus is another warning that winter is about to descend on us. But Emily is warm. Hot, when she’s with me. So what if she has a hang-up about Max? That never seems to matter when we meet in the library.
I still haven’t fucked her on one of those desks. The student librarians have gotten a bit wiser, and even if they hadn’t, Emily always pulls back at the last moment. Honestly, it’s another reason the days roll into each other so easily. I have a semester and a half left at Campbell. Decent grades can’t hurt. Since Asher, the future seems...less guaranteed. For the first time in my life, I’m thinking about a safety net other than my parents’ money.
I’m not thinking about it that hard. Nobody needs to be worried that Wolf Astor is going to move to California and join a commune.
As the weather gets colder, Emily and I—and everyone else—spends more time at Rose House and Thistle. I always expected to be in the Skulls and Thorns, but even I can recognize that this is some shit out of the movies. And it feels like we should be at the point wh
ere it’s smooth sailing until the cameras roll. I let myself believe it.
“It’s so cold.” Emily’s voice captures my full attention one afternoon in the living room. I’m in a winged chair by the massive fireplace, Ellis is sprawled across a sofa, asleep, and Max comes in behind Emily, rubbing his hands together. “Cass? Where’s Cass?”
“I’m right here.” Cassandra comes in behind both of them, and I get a quick hit of relief. It’s one thing to enjoy Emily when we’re alone. Watching her with Max puts me in the stupid fucking position of hiding an involuntary scowl. “Oh, good. You’re here.” Cassandra points at me, making a beeline toward the fireplace.
“Aren’t you always glad that I’m here?”
The hint of flirtation makes Emily blush, even though it’s not directed at her. Cassandra sits down on a loveseat across from me and unwraps the scarf from around her neck. Emily moves closer to the fire and tugs off her gloves. “It would be so weird if you weren’t here, Wolf,” she says, looking down at the flames. “How would Cass plan anything?”
I groan. “You’re here to plan.” Over by the front window, Max takes his phone out of his pocket, frowns at the screen, and goes back out into the hall.
“I’m here to coordinate.” Cassandra sits up straight. “The winter formal is coming up.”
“The winter formal is planned already. It’s tradition. It’s the same thing every year.” I widen my eyes. “Are you asking me to choose your dress? Cassandra, that’s the kind of thing you should ask your friends to do.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you sure the Grand is the ideal location?”
I sigh. “The Grand has been good enough for the last twenty classes at Rose House. The only reason they missed a year is because they were closed for renovations.” The Grand is a boutique hotel in town. It’s small enough that our houses can rent the entire thing out for winter formal, and we do. “And you know we book out in four-year blocks.”
“I did know that,” says Cassandra. “I just wondered if we should try an on-campus venue.”
“Nobody wants an on-campus venue for winter formal. That’s the point of winter formal. What do you have up your sleeve? Are you a winter formal revolutionary?”
“Just thinking about that next four-year block,” Cassandra says, eyes sparkling.
“So you do want to make your mark.”
She purses her lips. “I’ve still got time.”
I wave her off. “Go make yourself some hot cocoa. You’re dismissed.”
“Are you guys talking about winter formal?”
How long has Matthew Gold been in the room? “Gold.” The name rolls off my tongue and for a jarring moment my voice sounds exactly like my father’s. “Announce yourself if you’re going to lurk in rooms.”
“I just walked in,” he answers.
“He did,” confirms Emily, whose hands are apparently warm enough, because she moves to sit down on the loveseat. “Hey, Matt.” She sits, Cassandra stands.
“Does anybody want hot cocoa?” Cass says. “No. You can get it yourselves.” Then she flounces off toward the kitchen.
Matthew sucks in a deep breath, rocking up on his toes and settling back down. Ellis snores.
“If you were talking about winter formal, I’ve had some thoughts on that,” Matthew announces. Emily raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug. I have no idea what’s on this guy’s mind.
“We were talking about it in the abstract,” I tell him. “Emily’s friend wants to mess with tradition.”
“She doesn’t.” Emily laughs. “The Thistles who are on planning wanted her to float some other options. She told them she’d try.”
“What is this world coming to?” I lean my head back into the chair. “Thistles, wanting to change the way we do things. Not likely.”
“I’m not part of it,” Emily says.
“Emily.” Matthew clears his throat. “If you don’t have a date to the winter formal, I’d love to take you.”
Yikes. I open my eyes and try unsuccessfully to swallow the laugh that rises up in my throat. I cough it out instead.
“Matt, that’s really nice.” Emily’s voice is utterly genuine. Matt nods reflexively. It’s like he knew she’d say no, but she’d also let him down easy. “I already have plans.”
Yes, she does have plans. I haven’t asked her in so many words, but the noises she makes when I kiss a certain spot behind her jaw are basically accepting my silent invitation.
“You gave it the old college try, my man,” I tell Matt, since this is clearly not a situation he wants to be in. “Emily Danes is always booked.”
“I am.” Emily bites her lip, her eyes on mine. “I actually...Max asked me to winter formal, and I said I’d go with him.”
“That makes sense.” Matt nods too much now, his head bobbing up and down like a dashboard bobblehead. “Just thought I’d ask. You know.” Before Emily can say anything else, he leaves, pace carefully controlled.
I listen to the fire for a few moments. “Max?” Ellis snuffles on the sofa and rolls over.
“He asked,” she says.
“Come here, Emily Danes.”
She stands up, abandoning her gloves and her bag, and takes her place in front of me. I consider her, in her jeans and a cream colored sweater with one thread tugged out of place. Then I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into my lap.
“Wolf,” she says. “We’re in the living room.”
“What is everyone going to do?” It’s empty, other than Ellis. I push her hair away from her neck and let my lips hover over her skin, teasing her. “Don’t do it, Emily. Go to the formal with me.”
“I—” I slip a hand up under her sweater and push her bra out of the way. “I—I can’t think when you’re doing that.”
“I’m hardly doing anything.” I run the pad of my thumb over her nipple, teasing it to a hard peak, then move to the other. When she gasps, I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her. She groans into my mouth. Fuck, she tastes so sweet. I thread my fingers through her hair and pull her in closer so I can deepen the kiss. She’s so willing, so open, and god, why are we always somewhere I can’t strip her down and spread her open?
Technically, I could do it here. But there would be social consequences to openly fucking someone on the furniture here.
Emily breaks the kiss and pulls back. “I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t go to winter formal with you.”
“Is that what we were talking about?”
“Yes.” She presses my hand closer into her chest, trapping it there. “You were saying—”
“If you can still remember what I was saying, I haven’t been doing my job.” I cover her mouth with mine, wrapping my hand around her jaw, and she parts her lips for me with a sigh that goes straight between my legs.
The front door of Rose House opens and one of the brothers comes in, talking on his phone. “No, no, no,” he says. “That’s not what this is. Can you hear me? I don’t—no.”
Emily leaps up out of my lap, pulling at the hem of her sweater, eyes bright.
“Oh, let me—let me help you.” I steady her by the hips and she laughs, twisting away.
“You’re too much.” Emily goes over to the sofa and picks up her gloves and bag. “I have to get going. I have—”
“Studying to do? You can do it here. I’ll help.”
“You will not help. And there could be a lot riding on this.”
“Emily Danes, you need to relax about the grades. Nobody’s going to give you anything less than an A.”
“It’s not for a grade,” she says, glancing up at me. “I’ll see you around soon, okay?”
Not for a grade. In a cold instant, I know exactly what she’s talking about. It’s written all over her face.
I lean forward, balancing my elbows on my knees, and pray that I’m making a face that’s neutral enough. “Is this about those notes I saw?”
“I’m looking into some things.” Emily wo
n’t meet my eyes. “It’s...important, I think, that someone looks into it.” Goose bumps rise along the back of my hands and shoot up all the way to my shoulders. Protect them. The thought comes before the meaning, and I even when I understand the urge, it’s complex. Protect Rose House? Protect Emily? All of them? The best way to do that is to keep everybody from getting involved.
I should have done something about this when I saw her notebook.
“People have looked into what happened with Asher. It was a tragic accident.” The lie comes easier than I thought it would. “It was the night of a ceremony. He fell down the stairs.”
Emily fumbles with her gloves. “I just don’t know if I believe that.”
“Do you have a reason not to believe it?”
“Look, I’m not—” Emily smooths down her hair. “I’m not the police, or something like that. From what I’ve heard, details don’t match up, and it just...it seems weird.”
“It was ruled an accident.”
She looks into my eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
This is like holding my hand too close to a flame, and finally I can’t avoid the instinct to pull it away. “What I am sure about is that you shouldn’t get into it. It’s a waste of time.” Shame spears through the center of my chest. It’s so fucking disloyal to Asher. My pulse thuds through my veins to a furious drumbeat. “It’s a closed case.”
“Maybe it is.”
It’s not closure, and she knows it.
“How long have I been out?” Ellis mumbles into the sofa cushions. “What day is it?”
“I’m sorry I can’t go to the formal with you,” Emily says.
“You can always change your mind. There’s still plenty of time.” I put an easy smile back on my face. “You know who you really want to go to.”
Emily blushes, but she doesn’t return my smile.
34
Emily
