He hangs up before I get a chance to say goodbye, and I exhale, blowing hair up and out of my face before I sit up. Spencer’s been with his dad all week, as per his bargain for the help in the elections, so he hasn’t been able to talk much. And I’ve gotten all of three texts from Ranger which is worrying me.
“Come on, Chuck, cheer up,” Micah says, turning and mimicking my pose so that he’s laying side by side with me. “I’m really enjoying this chance to see how the other half lives.”
“The other half, huh?” I say with a skeptical brow raised in his direction.
“It’s quaint, the life of a peasant,” he says, trying to keep a straight face, but his lips twitch and give him way. I shove Micah in the shoulder and stick my tongue out, sitting up next to Tobias.
“You’ll see how quaint a peasant can get if you keep pushing it.”
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I look down to see a surprise text from Church.
I forgot to say, I love you, I read, just before Tobias slips the phone from my hand.
“I love you?” he asks, quirking a brow. “You guys are saying I love you to each other now?”
My cheeks flame, but I shrug nonchalantly, pretending I’m too cool to care.
“Yeah, I mean, I love you guys, too. No big deal.”
“You love us?” they repeat, exchanging a long look before turning back to me.
“Get her?” Tobias asks, and Micah nods.
“Get her.”
They grab me before I can make a run for the bathroom, and they don’t let go until Spencer’s knocking on our bedroom door the next morning.
There are no gifts the boys could get me that could top their declaration about wanting to be together. I mean, they try like hell though, and I’m not one to turn down gifts, especially when they come in the form of designer shoes and handbags that Monica would almost literally kill for.
She’ll be here for dinner later, but for now, I’m just enjoying a brief reprieve from my parents and Mr. Dave, hiding out in the living room while the adults disappear into their respective bedrooms for a break from the festivities.
It’s pretty obvious we have things to talk about, too. I knew it the second I saw Spencer’s face this morning.
“We went into the tunnels,” he says, leaning forward on the couch next to Micah and balancing his elbows on his knees. He breaks the ice before I get a chance to even realize I’m about to be dropped into cold water.
“You did what?” I ask, wishing he wasn’t too cute to strangle. “You meaning who, exactly? When? And why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me about it?”
“Spencer and I went in,” Church says, looking sorry after the fact. “But Ranger was with us on video chat the whole time, in case something went wrong.”
“I don’t care, I’m still pissed,” I say, but then again, I’m also curious as hell. “Did you find anything down there?”
“Nothing but more tunnels,” Spencer says with a roll of his turquoise eyes. “Whatever Jack was talking about, hidden churches or what the fuck ever, we have no idea. We never even saw anyone else when we were down there.”
“They might just use the tunnels for transportation. Could’ve been coincidence that you just didn’t stumble into anybody else.” Tobias looks to Church for confirmation, but he just shakes his head, like he doesn’t have this answer yet either.
We’re close though, oh so freaking close.
“I learned a little bit more about my dad,” Ranger says finally, speaking up and then sighing like he’s exhausted. “From my mother, of all people. She got drunk and weird, and then started telling me that she’d left my dad once, briefly, when Jenica was like, eleven, and I was two. We stayed with her weird relatives in Spain who have ties to the Catholic church. She had us baptized while we were there, and she said when she decided to go back, and he found out, that Eric flipped and beat her.”
“Holy shit.” The words escape my mouth before I can stop them, and I cringe in apology to Ranger. He’s staring down at his hands though, like he’s daydreaming about beating his father up.
“Anyway, I know it sounds stupid, but you know how into rituals and shit these cults are. I figured maybe we were looking at our reason, why my father hasn’t invited me into the Fellowship, or why Jenica died. It’s a stretch, but I figure we should at least consider it.”
“It could very well be,” Church says with a shrug of his shoulder. “You have to be extreme to consider blood sacrifice a normal part of growing up, so it is possible that they saw the baptism as problematic.”
“I’m just hoping that wasn’t my mom’s not-so-subtle way of warning me, you know? Like maybe she knew about the Fellowship at some point and is wondering if I know, too.”
We all go quiet, considering. The mood’s heavy now and not particularly festive.
“Okay,” Ranger says, slapping his palms against his knees. “I’m done with this shit for now. I’m not letting some nutjobs in fox masks ruin my Christmas. Now, we bought you all of those boardgames, Charlotte, so pick one and I’ll get ready to kick your ass.”
“She’s truly awful at videogames, so that shouldn’t be hard,” Micah says with a grin, but I’m not worried. They’ve all admitted their knowledge of boardgames is limited—more of a peasant activity, or so I hear—and I’m confident that by the end of the night, I’ll have their balls in my hand.
That’s … not totally metaphorical either.
The quiet lulls me into a false sense of security when we get back to Adamson after break. For weeks, everything is blissfully normal. It’s what I’ve been looking for, been wanting for so long that I let myself get lost in it.
It feels good to have friends, even better to have friends who happen to be lovers, my schoolwork is sorted, and I have a plan for the future. When winter finally leaves and spring kisses the campus, our problems start up again with a bang.
And end that way, quite literally.
“Here, Charlotte,” Ranger says, still the only one of the group who regularly calls me Charlotte (as opposed to Chuck, darling, Micropenis, and so on), “take this.” He hands over a box full of frilly aprons, and I grin. To Ranger, these are just as important as butter, sugar, and flour. He can't bake without them. “Spencer can carry the mixers downstairs when you go.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Spence says, picking up one of the pink KitchenAid mixers and escorting me out the door of the Culinary Club classroom and downstairs, to the massive industrial kitchen that feeds the school and its staff three square meals a day, seven days a week.
This year, the Northeast Academy Baking Competition is being held on our campus. Last year, it was at Everly. And before that, I hear it was held in New York City, in the giant skyscraper that houses North York Preparatory Academy.
It's a pretty simple affair: the judges hand over a category, and we bake what we can in the allotted time with the ingredients given, and then our desserts are judged. There are three categories in total, and the highest score wins a ten-thousand-dollar donation to the charity of their choice.
Again, with rich people and the game of donating. Like, all the sponsors could just as easily have sent checks to the charities, but it's also kind of fun, so I'm not complaining.
That is, until we get downstairs and I see that blue-haired girl from last year. Kesha. The one that Ranger slept with. She spies me from across the room and waves.
I turn away quickly and pretend to be busy folding and refolding the aprons.
“She's coming this way, isn't she?” I ask Spencer, and he checks over his shoulder to look.
“Yep. Ex-girlfriend incoming.”
“Never an ex-girlfriend because I didn't date,” Ranger says, slamming a box of cooking utensils down on the stainless-steel counter next to me, his cheeks heating slightly as he glances my way. “Charlotte's my first girlfriend.”
“Okay, bro,” Spencer says, turning around just as Kesha nears our station, dressed neatly in the white blazer and black tie of Eve
rly All-Girls Academy. She fiddles with the tie for a moment as she looks Ranger over and then turns her attention back to me.
“Good to see you've come out of the closet, so to speak,” she says, trying for a genuine smile. “I'm actually here with Selena and Hana. You probably don't remember us all from the Valentine's Day dance last year …” She tucks some electric blue hair behind her ear, and I decide it really bothers me that she likely uses the same hair dye as Ranger. What can I say? I'm a jealous asshole.
“I remember you three from the dock,” I say with a nod, glancing over at Ranger as he narrows his eyes.
“Speaking of, do you remember passing out on the lawn outside the dance hall?”
Church and the twins appear with more boxes, laying them out on the counters and unloading mixing bowls, measuring cups, whisks, and spatulas. They glance our way but keep their distance, like they can guess what Ranger's up to over here.
“Yeah, I remember,” Kesha says, her brown eyes crinkling up at the edges. “I mean, I don't remember how I hurt myself, just that Selena found me and brought me inside.” She gives Ranger a suspicious sort of look. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you even remember how you got outside? Look, I know it doesn't mean much to you, but something happened to us that night, and we're just trying to get to the bottom of it.” Ranger softens his voice up just a bit, and I see Kesha's cheeks fill with color. This time, it's my turn to narrow my eyes.
“All I remember is going outside to get some air …” she starts, trailing off, like maybe this isn't the first time she's tried to recall what happened that night. “Actually, Selena had slipped out the door just before that, and I figured if she was going to sneak a cigarette, then I might as well, too.” Kesha looks up and shrugs. “But that's it. I remember stepping outside and then nothing.”
“And Selena?” Ranger pushes, but then the girl in question is sashaying her way over to us with a smile.
“Hey Charlotte,” she says, giving the boys a more skeptical expression. “Does Church want to throw me into a wall again? Or am I okay to be here for the competition?”
“I have your dress,” I offer up, trying to break the tension. “I didn't mean to hijack it from you for so long.”
Selena returns her attention to me, plastering a smile onto her lips that makes me realize that while Church struggles with his emotions, his smiles aren't fake like that. This is most definitely not a pleasant sort of smile.
“No worries. I can get it afterward. Do you want to meet me in the dorm lounge or something? Mark's taking me out later, so I'll definitely be around.”
“Actually, I can’t,” I say on impulse, just before she moves off. Selena pauses and blinks back at me like she can’t believe I’d have the audacity to refuse. “I’m staying with all five of these idiots tonight, and we’re sort of doing a movie thing.”
“Maybe just before or just after?” she suggests, but I’m not liking the vibe I’m getting. We obviously don’t have a ton of evidence to implicate her, but what we do have is strong. Plus, she’s sort of giving me the creeps right now. She’s being far too pushy.
“I’ll be stuck with them from now until Monday, at least.” I give her a dramatic wink, hoping to clear the suspicion from her eyes by acting like a pervy dork. Doesn’t work. She tosses her hair over shoulder.
“Fine. I’ll send a courier at some point next week, and you can leave it with them.”
“Thanks for understanding,” I say, forcing a smile before Selena heads back over to her side of the kitchen.
“What was that about?” Church asks, as I shiver slightly
“She's guilty,” the twins say in unison. I glance back at them and find them nodding in unison. “We knew it.”
“If she’s here, then they’re all here, all four of them. That’s when something bad is going to happen. Imagine if she caught me alone in the dorm lounge. At least if she thinks I’m going to be with you guys all weekend, they’re less likely to try something.”
“Good call,” Church says, as the announcer blows his whistle and instructs us to line up at our stations. We’re given our first category, and the kitchen explodes into chaos. Fortunately, we do this so often that it’s practically mechanical at this point, leaving me with enough energy and focus to watch Selena instead.
She, of course, doesn’t do a damn thing wrong, but I have that feeling on the back of my neck the same way I did when I was at Highgate Cemetery. I’m not getting caught off guard this time.
Ranger nails all three rounds in the competition, just like we knew he would, and we choose a local animal rescue as our charity. On our way back to the dorm later, we run into something interesting.
Mark and Selena, arguing in the woods.
“There’s no point, Mark,” she snaps, yanking her wrist from him. “It’s not going to happen tonight.”
“Okay, damn, that’s literal,” I whisper and Spencer slaps a hand over my mouth, just before Selena continues on, pacing away from Mark and then back again. We’re all standing at the edge of the path, along the line of trees, looking in at them.
“You want me to sleep with you, when I know for a fact you’re sniffing around Aster’s tail?”
“Nothing’s happened between us,” Mark pleads, but his voice is like oil—far too slick for his own good. “We’ve just gotten close is all. We spend a lot of time together, and she’s here, you’re there …”
“I’m being punished for staying at Everly then?” Selena demands to know, scooting away when Mark reaches out for her.
“You’re not being punished, Selena, but you know it would be easier if you were here. Everything would be easier. Like tonight, or even this weekend. It wouldn’t matter what she was going.” I glance over at Church, and he returns the look. What Mark’s saying could mean a whole lot of different things, like maybe he’s talking about Aster? Somehow, though, I feel like that last part is about little old me.
“It’s fine,” she says, gesturing loosely in his direction. This time though, she finally lets him put his hands on her waist. “Next time I’m here, we’ll do it.”
“Yeah, we will, all night fucking long,” Mark growls into her ear, and I roll my eyes.
“We’re running out of time, Mark,” she says softly, her voice a deep melancholy.
“I know,” he says, as we slowly move away from the spot, their voices fading into whispers. “I know, but we’ll get her—I promise you.”
It all started the morning of senior prom.
According to Adamson Academy tradition, Everly hosts the senior proms for both schools on odd years, and Adamson on even years. Well, since this year is an even year, we’re having it here, in the big old stuffy ballroom where the academy hosts its fancy-schmancy parent dinner parties and galas. I mean, you have to give them something considering the staggering cost of tuition to go here.
As the Student Council—yay, I’m so excited I still get to say that!—we were in charge of not only the theme, but also essentially acting as a prom committee.
Which, you know, being surrounded by rich assholes makes it super easy since they hired everything out. Need food? Cater it. Want music? Hire a band. Décor? Get an event planner.
“I feel like we’re missing out somehow, you know? Like we should be making paper signs and hanging streamers, and struggling to procure some two-bit loser band from the boardwalk.”
Spencer gives me a weird look.
“You like doing poor people stuff?” he asks me as my eye twitches in irritation.
“Peasants have their own customs, don’t judge,” Tobias adds, nodding his head, and crossing his arms over his chest. But it’s a judge-y head nod and arm crossing, so I smack him in the arm with my phone. “What? That wasn’t even an insult.”
“Also, please stop buying me bras and underwear. I have plenty of it,” I say, giving both twins and Spencer a look.
“Oh, that’s not because you’re poor, that’s because we lik
e buying you bras and underwear,” Micah adds with a loose shrug of his shoulders, looking up at the glittering chandeliers above our heads, and the flower garlands made of real flowers. Each one of those probably costs a small fortune, and there are dozens of them. It looks more like a wedding in here than a prom, to be honest.
The colors are based on the Adamson Academy crest—navy-blue and champagne—and the round room is divided into sections. There are tables to the left of the door, with vases bursting with floral arrangements, tealights waiting to be lit, and plush chairs wrapped with large navy ribbons that hang from the backs.
“You know, since there’s only going to be one of me, and five of you tonight,” I start as Spencer lifts a questioning brow in my direction. Church is busy sweeping the room with the event planner and discussing small details, while Ranger discusses the arrangement of sweets that we’ve baked just for tonight’s occasion. “If you want to dance with any other girls, that’s okay.”
“That’s okay?” Spencer echoes, looking at the twins, and then putting a palm on the top of my head. “Are you nuts? It might be okay with you, but it’s not okay with me. I don’t want to dance with any other girls.”
“Yeah, but,” I start, and the twins smack their hands over my mouth, one twin’s on top of the other.
“Nope,” they say together as Micah leans in to look at me.
“You don’t get to make all the rules. We get some say.” They let go of my mouth as I glare at them. “First rule, you don’t date other boys. Second rule, we don’t date other girls. Third rule, we do this until it stops working for us. Weren’t you there on your birthday when we discussed all of this? Or do you have another secret you want to tell us? Perhaps an identical twin hidden out there somewhere in the woods?”
“Oh,” Tobias says, snapping his fingers and gesturing excitedly. “That’d be a good plot twist—a secret identical twin, living in the tunnels beneath the school, who leads the entire cult after Charlotte, so she can kill her and claim her life.”
The Forever Crew Page 25
