by Kate Brian
“Brother Starbuck!” April admonished.
Palmer turned the color of ripe grapes. His nostrils flared as he whirled around. “Screw this crap,” he said. “I’m outta here.”
As he crossed the circle, he unzipped his robe and let it flutter to the ground. The heavy metal doors slammed behind him so loudly, the reverberation seemed to go on for days. For a long moment, no one dared move.
“So, should we … um … celebrate?” Tahira said finally.
Everyone looked at Ariana. She bit her bottom lip. They’re looking to their president, she realized with a start. They’re already looking to me.
Quickly, she scrambled to her feet. “No. No celebration. It’s still too soon. Let’s meet back here on Tuesday, midnight. In the meantime, we should be mourning our friend.”
There were nods of agreement around the room, but still most members—even the guys—stopped by to congratulate Ariana. It was all she could do to keep from shouting and singing and doing a happy dance. Because whatever she said to the group, she did feel like celebrating.
She, Ariana Osgood, was the president of the most exclusive secret society at one of the most prestigious private schools in the world.
Celebrating was the only logical thing to do.
SO WELL
“We do have a bit of a logistical nightmare,” April said, hurrying to keep up with Ariana’s long strides as the members of Stone and Grave made their way back up the hill to Privilege House. As always, they had left the Tombs in pairs, spaced five minutes apart, to avoid drawing attention as a crowd. Not that anyone was out and about at one a.m. on a frigid December morning, but still. There was always the possibility of a glance out a window, and the primary goal of any good secret society was to remain secret. Ariana had started out the door with Jasper on her arm, but April had insisted on accompanying her so they could talk about the transfer of power. Ariana would have to settle for seeing Jasper in the morning. Such were the sacrifices a president had to make. “Everything you’ll need—the archives, the bylaws, the presidential pin … all of it is in Lexa’s possession. We can’t let her parents find it, so basically we’re going to have to pillage her things before someone finally gets round to emptying her room.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Ariana said with a nod. “I’ll go first thing in the morning. Maria can help me sort through her stuff. She may even know where Lexa kept it all.”
“Good. Everything else is always stored inside the Tombs for safe keeping, so that won’t be a problem,” April said. She took a few deep breaths. “Do you mind if we slow down? Cardio’s not really my thing.”
“Sorry,” Ariana said, concentrating to slow her steps. “I walk fast when I’m excited.” She realized her faux pas the moment the words escaped her lips. She wasn’t supposed to be excited. She was supposed to be somber and serious and pensive.
April smiled, her blue eyes sparkling behind her glasses. She paused and turned to face Ariana.
“It is exciting, isn’t it?” she said under her breath, glancing over her shoulder into the darkness. “I know we’re still in mourning and all, but I just have to say … I’m quite proud of and impressed by your achievement, Ana, coming so early in your Stone and Grave career. And I’m happy that the presidency will be retained by a woman.”
“Thank you,” Ariana said, beaming. “I’m proud too, to be honest.”
“As you should be.”
A fierce wind whipped through the Privilege House towers, howling ominously.
“Now let’s get inside before we catch our death,” April said, hugging herself. Her face paled in the moonlight and she cringed. “Ugh. Sorry. Can’t believe I said that.”
“It’s okay,” Ariana said, starting ahead. “Let’s go.”
Inside, Privilege House was deserted, the security lights in the lobby glowing green over the hardwood floors. Ariana could hardly contain herself as the elevator whipped her and April toward the top of the girls’ tower. April bid her good night at her floor and stepped out. The second the doors closed and she was finally alone, Ariana let out a joyful squeal. She danced around the small, square space giddily, until the doors slid open again. By then, she was perfectly composed, just in case anyone happened to be milling around.
But the hallways were silent. Ariana made her way back to her room, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her. For a moment, she was all triumphant smiles. But as she looked around her room, her sense of joy quickly deflated at the bare, depressing room with one side completely unoccupied, the other sparse as a Spartan’s quarters.
Not exactly the stuff celebrations were made of.
Feeling suddenly lonely, Ariana trudged to her bed and sat on the edge, tugging her cashmere scarf from around her neck. It was so unfair, really. She was sure that when Lexa was elected president there had been a huge bash in her honor. But for Ariana, nothing. All because of circumstances beyond her control. This was a huge night for her, but when she looked back on it years from now, there would be no memories of smiling faces and congratulations, no souvenir champagne bottles or photos to cherish. There would be nothing but the memory of … this.
A light knock on her door startled her. Ariana jumped up and opened it. Jasper grabbed her hand.
“Madame President, it’s an honor,” he said with a mock-formal nod.
Ariana cracked a smile. “Thanks, Jasper.”
“Okay, I know we’re supposed to be grim as the grave right now, but I can’t allow it,” he said, grabbing her scarf out of her hand and looping it around her neck. “We need to celebrate.”
Ariana smiled for real. Jasper knew her so well. “What did you have in mind?”
He took both her hands and tugged her out the door. “Just follow me.”
HEAVEN AND HELL
“Are we going to the boathouse?” Ariana whispered breathlessly. The cold wind caught her words and whipped them away almost before she said them. Overhead, the moon glowed full and bright, its luminous reflection rippling in the icy surface of the Potomac as she and Jasper raced down the bank toward the water.
“Not exactly,” he replied with a grin.
Together they lit upon the wooden patio surrounding the huge, gleaming oak boathouse where the crew team lifted weights, socialized, and worked on their racing shells. But instead of heading for the back door, Jasper turned his steps, crunching through the gravel that surrounded the building. Ariana followed, keeping an eye on her feet in the dim light. At the edge of the water, Jasper started along a broken, overgrown concrete path, heading north toward the glowing lights of Washington, D. C.
“Okay, where are we going?” Ariana whispered again, her heart pounding from both exertion and excitement.
Jasper looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes teasing. “Are you really going to make me say it?”
“Say what?” she asked, her brow crinkling.
“That ‘that’s for me to know and you to find out’?” he said. Then he rolled his eyes. “Good Lord, you did make me say it.”
He took her hand in his and Ariana giggled. His fingers were cold and dry, but she didn’t mind in the least. Jasper tugged her around a bend and suddenly another boathouse loomed into view. This one was clearly much older. The wood planks of its walls were weathered and cracked, and the shutters around the upper windows tilted at dangerous angles. Faded orange signs reading KEEP OUT! hung on the garagelike doors on the water, and one lower windowpane was cracked and had been taped over with cardboard. Altogether, it wasn’t the most welcoming place.
“Let me guess,” Ariana said. “The old boathouse.”
“Very astute, Madame President,” he replied, leading the way over to a side door.
Ariana giggled. “Stop calling me that.”
“You love it,” Jasper teased. He paused with his hand on the door handle. “See? You’re blushing!”
Ariana lifted her fingers to her cheeks. “Oh, God. I am. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s endearing
,” Jasper said. He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips. “And now, for your surprise party.”
With a flourish and a loud creak, Jasper opened the door. Light poured out from inside, and Ariana took a hesitant step forward. What she saw took her breath away. Jasper had decorated the boathouse from floor to ceiling, corner to corner, with dozens of multicolored balloons. Strands of twinkling lights lined the walls, illuminating the entire space. In the center of the huge, airy room was a table, laden with tiered trays of sweets—chocolates and pastries and mini cakes and tarts. A banner across the far wall read CONGRATULATIONS, ANA! in big block letters.
“Jasper!” Ariana took a step into the room and twirled in a circle, taking it all in from every angle. “This is spectacular! When did you have time to do all this?”
Jasper closed the door behind him and unbuttoned his wool jacket. “I have my ways.”
“Yes, I suppose you do,” she said.
Jasper flung his jacket over one of the chairs at the table and spread his arms wide. “Voilà.”
Ariana grinned. “What would you have done if I hadn’t won?”
He crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His blond hair was wind-tossed and his nose was red from the cold, but he was still the handsomest guy she’d ever seen. “Not possible.”
She tilted her head. “Come on.”
“All right.” Jasper raised his hands. He walked over to the banner, tugged it down, and turned it around, holding it up by the ends so she could see. She held her hand over her mouth to cover a laugh. On the opposite side the banner read BETTER LUCK NEXT YEAR!
“You are ridiculously sweet,” Ariana said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
Jasper lifted one shoulder. “I do what I can.” He tossed the banner aside and pulled out a chair for her. “So? What’s your pleasure?”
“Hmmm …” Ariana was so giddy as she took her seat, she could barely keep herself from laughing out loud. She tapped her chin with her fingertips as she considered her dessert options, then plucked a raspberry tart from the top tier of one of the displays and took a bite. Her whole mouth filled with juicy, ripe sweetness. “Omigod, Jasper. This is so good.”
“Interesting choice,” he replied as he sat across from her. “I always thought you were a chocolate lover.”
“I’m an all-sweets lover,” Ariana replied, flicking a crumb from her lip with the very tip of her tongue. “No discrimination.”
Jasper grinned. “A glutton. I like it.”
Ariana blushed and took another bite of the tart. The water lapped gently along the walls of the boathouse and the wind whipped against the windowpanes, but she felt cozy, warm, and content inside the colorful, glowing room with Jasper. As much as she would have relished an elaborate, jam-packed party, this was pretty perfect.
“So, Briana Leigh Covington, you’ve just been named President of Stone and Grave. What are you going to do now?” Jasper asked in a reporter’s voice.
“I don’t know. I think I’ll research the local bylaws … see if there’s anything that needs a second look,” Ariana said, wiping some crumbs from her fingers with a napkin. “I’m definitely interested in learning about how new members are chosen to be tapped. I think that’s an area that needs improvement.”
Especially if they were willing to let people like Lillian Oswald in—a girl who didn’t even have a past.
Jasper laughed, a big, booming sound, and Ariana paused.
“What?”
“You’re supposed to say ‘I’m going to Disney World,’” he told her.
Ariana’s eyes narrowed. “What? Why would I say that?”
Jasper laughed so hard now, he doubled over. “Because … you know … at the Super Bowl? They always ask the MVP … what are you going to do now? And he always says—”
“I’m going to Disney World?” Ariana interjected, baffled. “But why? Why would they all want to do the same thing?”
Jasper shook his head. “Forget it.”
“I mean, Disney World is a garish, filthy playground for the unwashed masses of the universe. Why would someone as wealthy and successful as a Super Bowl winner want to—”
“Forget it,” Jasper said with an exaggerated sigh. “Clearly you’re not a pop culture maven.”
Ariana tried to shove aside her embarrassment over being laughed at. She’d never before been ashamed of the fact that she didn’t get every reality show reference or commercial quote bandied about by her friends. She had always felt superior, in fact, in the not-knowing. She had more important things to do with her time than waste hours pouring over OK! magazine and watching MTV.
“No. Clearly not,” she replied.
Jasper picked up a chocolate-covered cherry from a bowl and popped it into his mouth. “The Princeton admissions committee is going to love you.”
Ariana’s heart skipped a quick beat. Princeton. Attending the Ivy League school had been Ariana’s dream since the dawn of time, and now that she’d been officially elected Stone and Grave president, she was one step closer to getting in.
“Where are you going to apply?” Ariana asked, reaching for a chocolate cupcake.
“I hear Cornell and Brown are the easiest of the Ivies, so I’m starting there,” he said with a smirk.
Ariana smiled. When she and Jasper had first started to get to know each other, he’d professed his aspiration to a life of leisure. But a guy like him was expected to go to an Ivy League school. Apparently this was his way of finding a happy medium.
“But I’m also going to apply to Tulane and LSU,” Jasper added. “Mama would be happy if I ended up close to home.”
“So Princeton’s off the list, then?” Ariana asked, trying to sound casual. She and Jasper were juniors, after all. Anything could happen between now and their freshman year of college. Still, if she had to choose right now, she’d want him to come with her.
“It was,” he said casually, reaching for another cherry. He popped it in his mouth and slowly smiled, a smile that made her want to curl right up in his arms. “Until you came along.”
HONOR HER MEMORY
“None of us could have imagined the level of tragedy that has befallen this campus in the last two months,” Headmaster Jansen said, her voice ringing out through the otherwise silent chapel on Thursday morning. She wore a black pencil skirt with a matching jacket and a gray silk blouse, and for the first time since Ariana had arrived at Atherton-Pryce Hall, her dark skin was free of makeup. Her delicate hands shook as she rested them on either side of the podium and looked out at the crowd. The school had postponed Lexa’s memorial service until after the holiday, and now the students and faculty seated in the pews were as still as stone, their eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Lexa Greene was one of our shining stars. She had an incredible future ahead of her. One can only wonder what could have happened to make her feel so desperate, to make her feel that there was no other way out.”
Ariana gripped her arm and squeezed. You’re going to make it right, she reminded herself. You’re going to make it right.
“We may never know the answer to that question. But there is one thing of which I am certain,” the headmaster said, pacing out from behind her podium. “Lexa would want us to continue on. She would want all of you to honor her memory by doing your best, fulfilling your dreams, and living your lives to the fullest. That’s just who she was.”
Shakily, Maria reached over for Ariana’s hand. Ariana released her grip on her own arm so that she could grip her friend’s fingers. Maria pressed her lips into a semblance of a grim smile, her eyes so wet they swam. For the tenth time that day, Ariana wondered where Soomie was and whether Palmer and Conrad were here somewhere. Had they returned to campus, or were they off somewhere, grieving their loss in private?
“Everyone, please bow your heads in a moment of silence for our friend, Lexa Greene.”
A choked sob escaped Maria’s throat. She was practically crushing Ariana’s fingers. Ariana closed her
eyes, and pictured Lexa’s smiling face.
I’m going to kill Reed Brennan, Lex. I’m finally going to do it. I’m going to do it for you.
In Ariana’s mind’s eye, Lexa’s smile broadened, and a sense of peace and certainty settled in over Ariana’s shoulders. Wherever Lexa was, she was proud of Ariana’s resolution. Wherever she was, she approved.
“Thank you,” the headmaster said. “May she rest in peace.”
Ariana lifted her head. It was all she could do to keep from smiling in satisfaction.
“Now, to the practical,” Headmaster Jansen began in a more formal tone. “The school has hired a grief counselor who will be setting up a permanent office here on campus. The doctor will be available to all of you during the school day, and a hotline will be set up for after hours. The hotline number will be posted around campus and on the school’s website. He is an awarded professional, highly regarded in his field, so please make use of his expertise whenever you feel the need to talk to someone outside your own circle. But also know that each of you will be required to speak to him at one point this week. Half hour sessions have been scheduled for all students. You will report to the administration building at your designated time. No exceptions.”
Ariana glanced across the aisle at Jasper. He rolled his eyes. For the first time all morning, voices could be heard among the student population, and none of them sounded happy.
“I’ve asked him to attend this morning’s services so that we can all welcome him to the Atherton-Pryce Hall community,” Headmaster Jansen continued. “Students, faculty, I’d like to introduce to you, Dr. Victor Meloni.”
Ariana’s free hand gripped the end of the pew as the entire world seemed to tilt beneath her. The edges of her vision went dark, and all she could see was the man rising up from the front pew to a smattering of awkward applause. Ariana recognized every detail with vivid horror—his thinning hair, his elbow-patched blazer, his broad shoulders, his square jaw. His cheap rubber-soled shoes squeaked as he strode toward the podium. When he turned toward the chapel, he wore an affected, overly concerned, and falsely friendly smile. The smarm seeped off of him, puddling like green goo at his feet. Ariana sank so low in her seat, her butt hung off the edge.
