The Society

by Jodie Andrefski

  He snorted. “Um…yeah. How do you think I get around in winter?”

  I shrugged one shoulder and zipped my jacket. “I don’t know. Taxi?”

  He cracked up. “Yeah, because I can afford that.” He walked over to the closet and grabbed a black hoodie to pull over his head. “Give me a minute to grab my shoes.”

  “You really don’t have to drive me, I’m fine.”

  “Samantha, I’m not taking no for an answer. So shut that sexy mouth of yours and give me one minute to get my shoes on.”

  I shut my mouth, but still smiled.

  He tapped me on the nose as he passed me to grab a pair of sneakers at the end of the couch.

  After he turned off the stereo, he picked up the empty pizza box and beer bottles and carried them into the kitchen. On this way back out, he asked, “Do you need to use the bathroom or anything before we head out?”

  Even though I did need to go, there was no way I was peeing down the hall from him. I shook my head.

  “You ready?” He walked closer to where I stood, waiting.

  “Yep, whenever you are.”

  “There’s just one more thing I have to do quick before we leave.”

  I looked around. “What?”

  “This.” And he leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. No pressure, no hands, just a feather-soft touch that lasted several delicious seconds.

  When he was done, I slowly opened my eyes. “What was that for?”

  “Because I wanted to kiss you the way I should have kissed you the first time.” He took my hand and nodded toward the door. “Come on, Princess, your carriage awaits.”

  Sixteen

  To exact revenge for yourself or your friends is not only a right, it’s an absolute duty.

  —Stieg Larsson

  Hell Week.

  It’d finally arrived. I shoved my coat on the hook in my locker and peeked around after hurrying into school. For once, I’d actually wanted to get there early.

  Zena strolled down the hall, and based on her outfit, she was all set to do her first task. Holy crap, did she take her role to heart. I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling—or worse yet, cackling with glee.

  She walked past me without a single glance and sashayed straight toward Blane, who stood rooting around in his locker.

  Blane Reichert, quarterback golden boy and boyfriend to Jessica.

  Zena’s oxford shirt was unbuttoned halfway down her chest, and she sported a black lace push-up cami underneath. Her uniform tie hung right in the center of her rather impressive cleavage. She must have rolled the waist of her skirt, because it fell a solid four or five inches above her knees. Tall black boots completed the student-vamp look. Zena was gorgeous on a bad day, but looking all sexed up like that? Poor Blane didn’t stand a chance.

  I opened a book and held it in front of me as I leaned against my locker, pretending to page through it as I observed my handiwork. Seemed she took the bait. And from the looks of her, if she didn’t get hauled to the principal’s office first, she was following my suggestion to do whatever it took to lure poor little Blane right in. I once again thanked the heavens for Zena’s poor taste in men.

  She sidled up next to him, and leaned provocatively against the locker next to his. One arm stretched above her head, and her hip jutted out as she twirled a strand of her long, dark hair. Blane glanced up then did a double take. His chest puffed out like a rooster as he tossed her a smug grin.

  Oh yeah, it’d work. Thank God his locker stood close enough to mine that I could eavesdrop without being obvious.

  “Hi, Blane,” Zena purred.

  Okay, maybe not the most original opening, but with that outfit I’d let it slide.

  Blane’s eyes were still double their normal size, and kept zooming in on Zena’s chest. “Hey,” he stuttered. I had to cover my mouth and fake a cough so they didn’t hear me snort.

  “I wanted to tell you how much I loved watching you in the game last Friday.” She leaned in just enough. “You looked so hot in that uniform. Your big…” She ran her fingers down his chest. “Muscles.”

  He gave a cocky grin and actually flexed. “You like that, huh?”

  “Oh, you have no idea how much I like that.” She squeezed his tricep. Part of me felt amused, but a bigger part of me wanted to hurl.

  I willed her to keep it short, keep him wanting. She must have received my psychic message because she trailed her fingers down his arm and started to turn away from him. Right before she gave him the full back view, she used a throaty voice to instruct him to, “Don’t be a stranger,” and winked.

  Just then, Jessica turned the corner and caught Blane ogling Zena as she slinked away.

  Oh. My. God. Talk about sheer perfection. I couldn’t have scripted it better myself.

  “Excuse me?” Jessica slapped him on the arm, eyes blazing.

  “Ow! What the hell, Jessica?” He came out of his stupor and stared at her, his big, dumb mouth agape.

  “What the hell was that?” Her eyebrow rose, and her perfectly glossed lips pursed in disgust.

  “What was what?” He slammed his locker closed. “Christ. Are you on the rag or something?”

  Her eyes widened into saucers. She leaned in and poked him in the chest. Good to know it wasn’t just me on the receiving end of that trademark move.

  “If you think you can check out other girls, think again. I can have any guy I want with the snap of my fingers.” She exhibited her guy-fetching snap. “And I’m not about to put up with my boyfriend panting after trash like that.” She jerked her head in Zena’s retreating direction.

  I’d become so enthralled with the scene unfolding in front of me that I’d forgotten to be discreet.

  “And what are you looking at, freak?” She stared straight at me, glittering eyes daring me to say a word.

  It amazed me how little her taunts bothered me now that I knew what was in store for her. So instead of my normal blushing and stammering, I offered a sweet smile in return.

  Her mouth snapped closed, and she grabbed Blane’s hand to yank him down the hall. I could tell he was still getting chewed out the whole way by how her head bobbed up and down and her hand gestured wildly. Little did she know, but her going into all out bitch mode had only helped my cause.

  I hadn’t been sure Zena would do it, but obviously she also had enough issues with Jessica and her crew that she felt no qualms stealing Jessica’s douche boyfriend out from under her turned-up nose.

  The bell rang, and I rushed to make it to English Lit before the teacher marked me late. I thought of the passage from Hamlet that’d stood out for me the night before as I’d read the assignment for class.

  O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power so to seduce!

  Ms. Sheppard would be so proud of me, proving Shakespeare was still relevant even today. I grinned and slipped through the classroom door. I couldn’t wait for lunch. It was going to be epic.

  Jeremy waited at my locker when I went to drop off my books before lunch. I approached, trying to read his expression. I figured he’d try to make a last ditch effort to stop me.

  “Hey,” I said, cautiously.

  He grinned. “Hey yourself.”

  Okay, nice surprise. I’d been expecting furrowed brows or his judgy face.

  I slipped next to him and opened my locker.

  “What are you doing Saturday night?” he asked.

  I turned from trying to wedge my thick history book onto the shelf between all my other books and junk. “I’m not entirely sure yet. Why? What’s up?”

  “Because we’re going to a party Pete’s having at his house.” He waved a fluorescent orange piece of paper my way.

  “Pete’s having a party?” Pete never had parties. He didn’t even go to parties. The image of his name on the list in Jessica’s email flashed before me. Could it have something to do with that?

  I took the paper and scanned it. Dress up and party on—It’s a Masquerade Party this Saturday n
ight!

  A light went on in my head. This party could so work with my plan. I could weave in some of the ideas Ransom had given me and have my initiates do them Saturday night.

  “Okay, sure!”

  He eyed me skeptically. “Sure?”

  “Um, yeah. Sure, I’ll go.” I smiled and closed my locker door.

  We headed toward the cafeteria. Jeremy still looked at me like he expected me to sprout a second head any second.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

  “I’m surprised. I thought I’d have to twist your arm to agree to go.” His eyebrows raised above his glasses.

  I shoulder bumped him. “Don’t be dumb. Why wouldn’t I go with you?”

  He cocked his head and gave me a meaningful look. “I’m not sure where to even begin answering that one.”

  We rounded a table of football players throwing food at each other. I didn’t see Blane. I hoped he and Jessica hadn’t snuck out for lunch together. That’d put a kink in things. I turned my attention back to Jeremy as we slipped into the line for our trays.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked him.

  “Seriously?”

  “Uh…yeah.” I grabbed a salad and a roll. Jeremy went with the plate of unidentifiable meat and a blob of instant mashed potatoes. You’d think for what they charged in tuition, we’d be eating lobster.

  We rounded to the dessert station, where I snagged two slices of cherry pie and put one on each of our trays. After we both pressed our finger to the scanner to pay, we headed to our usual spot.

  He slowed down as we approached the table. I turned to face him. “What’s going on, Jer?”

  He looked like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. He shook his head. “Nothing, forget it.”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  We slid into our seats. I sat across from Abby, and Jeremy took the spot right next to her. I noticed he didn’t sit next to me, even though there was plenty of room.

  “You guys are all coming, right?” Pete looked up from his tray.

  “What brought this on? Since when are you the party master?” Abby teased.

  Pete shook his head. “Blame her.” He pointed to Celia. She grinned and clapped her hands.

  “It’s going to be awesome. Everyone has to come in costume. His dad even agreed to book a band,” she gushed. Celia was easily the most social of all of us.

  “Dude!” Jeremy high fived him. “Welcome to the land of the socially aware.”

  Abby elbowed Jeremy. “Oh, like you’re one to talk. Mister party out among the masses himself.” She smiled at him, a flirty smile.

  He grinned back. “Hey, I know how to socialize.”

  My fork paused on its way to my mouth, momentarily forgotten as I observed the exchange. What the hell was that? Abby and Jeremy? Since when had they become so buddy-buddy? I bit down on my cucumber slice so hard that I managed to get my tongue along with it. I ignored the pain and kept watching them.

  Their heads tilted together as Abby whispered something in his ear, and he laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. I stabbed a cherry tomato.

  Pete told us all about the party, while Celia kept jumping in. Abby turned to Jeremy and asked, “So, what are you going as?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to think about it.” His fingers wrapped around his bottle of juice. He always drank juice with lunch; he was lactose intolerant. I wondered if Abby knew that about him.

  She smiled and played with her hair. “Well, I think I’m going to go as Cat Woman.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Cat Woman?” My words came out harsher than I’d planned.

  Everybody at the table turned to look at me.

  Abby frowned. “What’s wrong with Cat Woman?”

  Nothing, except the fact she’d be running around in a tight body suit, probably trying to get her claws in my best friend.

  “Nothing,” I muttered. I shut the lid of my half-eaten salad. “I just figured you’d want to wear something with a little more class.” Yikes. Did I just say that out loud?

  The shocked expressions on everyone around me confirmed that I had.

  “Geez, Sam. Why don’t you tell us what you really think?” Jeremy’s look was a mixture of surprise and reproach.

  Abby squirmed on the bench next to him, playing with the spoon in her yogurt, not saying a word. Or looking at me. She usually wasn’t one to take crap…it must be the fact that she knew how close Jeremy and I were that kept her from telling me to shove it. Correction…how close we were until our fight, anyway.

  “Well, I think you’ll look great,” Celia said, leaning in to smile at Abby. Ever the peacekeeper.

  Jeremy shook his head and started to eat again. An awkward silence descended upon the table like a storm cloud.

  “You asshole!” Jessica’s familiar high-pitched squeal pierced the air. We all looked over. She stood, shaking a phone inches from Blane’s face. “What the hell is this?”

  I lifted my chin, trying to see over the students at the table between the show and me.

  “Jessica, would you calm down?” Blane reached up for the phone. “My God, you’re making a scene.”

  “I am not making a scene!” she hissed.

  She was, actually. The entire cafeteria had gone silent. Everyone watched in rapt attention to see how it would play out, although I was probably more interested than anybody. I kinda wished I had some popcorn.

  What in the world had Zena done? Sexted him? And how had Jessica discovered it? Then again, she probably had Blane by the short and curlies and monitored his every move. Stupid boy.

  Jeremy caught my eye. He stared at me with something close to disgust. I straightened my shoulders and looked away. Abby could probably do a better job of living up to his standards anyway. I fought the emptiness that swirled through me at the realization.

  Jessica continued to rant. Blane finally had enough of being embarrassed in front of his jock friends. He stood up and grabbed the phone. “It was just a freaking picture! Give it a rest!” he shouted.

  Whoops. Guess that answered that question.

  They’d finally gained the attention of Mr. Peltz, the assistant to the dean of students, who also served as lunch monitor. He strode toward their table, expression tight. His horrendous striped tie flapped a little as he marched toward Jessica and Blane.

  Whispers all around the cafeteria rose to epic levels. Everyone busied themselves trying to guess just what, or who, they’d been fighting over. Jessica stood still, hands clenched at her sides. Her chin quivered, but she didn’t say anything else.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Peltz grabbed Blane’s elbow and attempted to turn him around. Blane shook his arm free.

  “Nothing. A misunderstanding,” he muttered, not even bothering to look at Peltz.

  Jessica looked ready to explode. Her eyes bulged, and I swore a faint green mist rose from her head.

  “Ms. Wainright?” Peltz swiveled his head to include her.

  She refused to say a word.

  “I want to see both of you in my office, immediately following lunch. Is that understood?”

  They both nodded with stiff jerks of their heads.

  “Fine. And one more outburst like this and you will both find yourself with detention.” His voice rose. “Anyone else who behaves like that will get the same.”

  Ripples of laughter crossed the cafeteria. Even normally stoic Pete tried not to laugh at Peltz’s round, red face as he thundered.

  I spotted Zena at a small table in the corner. She had a phone in her hand and a very pleased look on her face. Score two for team Sam.

  Seventeen

  Survival is a game with a chance; revenge is a calculated plan of action.

  —Ace Hood

  Jessica wasn’t in school. She was probably shoe shopping to salve her wounded pride after the spectacle in the lunchroom yesterday. Although I welcomed the reprieve from her normal verbal smackdowns a
t my locker, I needed her here.

  Perfect. Just freaking perfect.

  I slammed my locker and tried to figure out what to do. The first part of the plan went to Zena. She would have to do some lead-in work before the second part of the plan. Part two included both Zena and Patrick, and those tasks required Jessica’s presence. I needed to make some adjustments, pronto. I tapped my fingers against the strap of my bag, thinking.

  Hopefully Patrick had the common sense to check the website to see what he was supposed to do considering his target wasn’t around. I clenched my hands into fists, feeling my plan start to crumble around me.

  I took a deep breath. It was still doable.

  Mr. Moyer had prep period right after morning homeroom. Most of the teachers stayed in their classrooms in case a student needed help or had a question. Not Moyer. Jeremy and I had seen him leaving the school several times during first period, and joked that he was probably sneaking out to blaze up. So instead of heading to my own homeroom, I hurried over to Room 318, the computer lab. Moyer’s room.

  He looked surprised to see me rush in, out of breath, messy ponytail flying behind me.

  I held my hand over my chest to calm my racing heart. It didn’t entirely work. I felt kind of gross considering the pseudo sucking up I was about to do.

  “Mr. Moyer! I’m so glad I caught you.”

  His bushy unibrow rose. It looked like a fat caterpillar crawling across his forehead. “Yes, Ms. Evans? Can I help you with something?”

  I turned on my best wide-eyed innocent look and stepped into the classroom. Several students looked up in curiosity. I ignored them.

  “See, the thing is, I saw someone sideswipe your car when they drove past it this morning.” I made sure to adopt a concerned tone, and bit my lip hoping to look nervous about relaying the information.

  Moyer’s eyes widened, and the fat caterpillar jiggled some more.

  “I couldn’t see who was driving, but I felt it was the right thing to do to come and tell you.” I clasped my hands in front of me and shuffled my feet a little.

  Now the caterpillar was halfway up his forehead. He stood. “They hit my car?”

  Everyone knew his car was his baby. A vintage Jaguar convertible, he’d actually been seen wiping it down with a soft cloth after rainstorms.