by L. A. Sable
“She must have dated a lot of losers in the past.”
I find myself getting inexplicably defensive, even though Charlie’s tone is perfectly neutral. Maybe it’s just because defending Trish has become like a second nature for me at this point. “The same can be said for pretty much every single woman in New York City.”
“But none of them are still hanging around, are they?”
“Yeah, no. I’ve made sure of that. There used to be this one guy, Jessie. He was the worst.”
“Really, how?”
And then I realize what I’m about to reveal and slam my mouth shut. Charlie is nice enough, but I don’t talk about this with anyone. I’m trying to protect Trish, but also myself. “It’s hard to describe. He was just really good at being a deadbeat. Enough about that though, let’s talk about this party.”
Charlie shrugs, as if the change of subject is fine with her. “If you’re sure about this, then we might as well go down in a blaze of glory.”
“That’s the plan.”
I don’t actually have a plan. But I do have a vague idea that I have to do something besides hide out and pretend that ignoring the Diamonds will make them go away. For one, that’s just not how bullies work and never has been. And I refuse to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much the torment is getting to me.
Asher is the key. If I take him down, publicly, all the others will fall like dominoes. At least, that’s the hope.
And none of these spoiled brats have seen what a chick from the Bronx is capable of.
“How do I look?” Charlie asks, stepping back from the mirror so I can her face.
“Awesome,” I say, meaning it. Her dress is pretty and hugs her figure in a flattering way. The makeup she wears is casual, but compliments her features. She’s a pretty girl, if not particularly striking. What I don’t tell her is that she’s at the same disadvantage that I am. Without the lifetime of personal trainers and meals prepared by registered dietitians, not to mention the best hair and skincare that money can buy, we just don’t stand up to girls like Chloe. It’s like trying to compare quarter horses to Arabian thoroughbreds, we’re behind from the start. “So tell me what you’ve heard about this party?”
I’ve made a point of ignoring the dozens of daily notifications that I get from the Inner Circle app. I don’t care what most of the people are talking about and I really don’t want to see what they’re saying about me. But Charlie follows the app like it’s a lifeline, checking it between every class and leaping for her phone whenever it makes the distinctive ping for a new post.
“You already know it’s at the lake, which is probably the craziest spot on campus. The water looks black at night, like something you could just disappear into. It’s where the school got its name, they used to it for recreation activities, but the administration considers it too treacherous now. There’s a party there every quarter, but people go out there every so often to get high or drink.”
“The faculty never shut them down?”
“Seriously?” Charlie scoffs. “That whole area is supposed to be off-limits. But nobody enforces the rules here, you know that.”
“True.”
“The lake is sort of mythic, we should enjoy it while we can.”
The same lake where a girl had drowned. Even though I don’t even know her name, it seems almost disrespectful that I’ve managed to put her from my mind so completely, in service to my own problems.
And I don’t miss the undercurrent of warning in Charlie’s words. Prolis aren’t allowed to party at the lake, although part of me wonders what’s used as the threat to keep them away.
Probably something along the lines of greasing a diving board or drowning someone in the lake.
I don’t want to be afraid, because I’m better than that. But I remind myself that none of the normal rules apply here and if I try to play by them, then I will end up losing. It’s time to throw out the rulebook and start playing my own game.
“Has anybody actually tried to ignore all this stuff. I mean, the crap with the app and all this Diamond and Proli nonsense? It’s all a social construct. What would happen if we just stopped feeding into it?
“Money is a social construct. It’s just made of paper and ink. Society has decided that a little rectangle of paper has a certain value and can be traded for goods or services. What if we all just decided to stop accepting it?” Charlie shakes her head as she tosses the lip gloss container back onto the bed. “Interesting thought experiment, but it’s never going to happen. Society is entirely based on arbitrary rules that we all have to abide by in order to be a part of it.”
“But this is different. The Inner Circle is just an app.”
“It doesn’t matter what it is. There are rules and you put yourself at risk if you break them. No one person can change how society functions, that just isn’t how it works. One person can’t change things.”
I want to argue, but she cuts me off.
“Take me for example. Do you really think I’m here for a better education or because this place is going to make me some stronger, better person because it’s a private school? Dream on.” Her gaze looks distant, like she’s staring into the future that she’s imagined for herself, one that’s far away from where she came from. “I’m here because the whole world has decided that a diploma from Black Lake Preparatory Academy means something. This is a ticket to a life that most people can barely dream of where I come from. Every single person who makes it through goes to an elite college. The connections that I make here will last for a lifetime. Society sets the rules, the rest of us have to follow them.”
One person can’t change things.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t come here by choice, or because I’ve never particularly valued the sorts of things that the rest of them do — money, status and power, but her words ring hollow. Why would you feel compelled to change the system if it’s working for you?
“You already said you’re at a disadvantage because you’re here on scholarship?” I point out. “What are you going to do if you end up voted a Proli?”
Her eyebrows go up, as if the question is one that she’s been refusing to really contend with, even in her own mind. Becoming a Proli is so outside of her conception of what her time at Black Lake will be like that I doubt she’s seriously considering it. Everything she does is in service of preventing exactly that outcome. “That won’t happen. Making the scholarship girl a Proli as a reflex violates the point of the whole system. The students all have to convince themselves that you make it to the top because you deserve it, so a rags-to-riches story has to be possible to maintain the illusion. I just have to make sure that I’m selling the story that they want to buy.”
“You make this all sound so abstract,” I say, setting down my eyebrow pencil because my hand is suddenly shaking too hard to draw a straight line. “There are real consequences here.”
“The whole world is abstract, but we still have to live in it. You follow the rules or you pay the price.”
With those ominous words still hanging in the air, I force a tight smile even as my mind remains in turmoil. All I know is that I’ve had enough of this conversation because there’s a warning in it, but I’m not sure exactly what it means.
“On that note, let’s go.”
The walk down to the lake is treacherous, to say the least.
Charlie and I are unfashionably late, not because we’re too cool to be on time but because it took a while to work up the nerve to head down there. As much as I talked a big game about showing the Diamonds what I’m made of, the truth of it is that I have no idea what to expect.
It’s hard not be scared when you have no idea what might be coming for you next.
Deserted school buildings sunk into darkness make the campus seem creepy and even further from reality than it already does. I have no idea how many members of the faculty actually live on the school grounds, but it isn’t enough. Nobody asks why we’re out after curfew or whe
re we’re going as Charlie and I pick our way quickly across the Pavilion courtyard and past Bellamy Hall.
We have to use our phone screens as flashlights once we move outside the small glow of lights that marks the end of the established trail. The lake clearly isn’t meant to be accessed because the overgrown path that leads down to it doesn’t have any overhead lighting. Once we’ve left the cluster of buildings that make up the bulk of the school, the area plunges into nearly total darkness.
It’s so quiet and dark that I start to question if there’s even a party to go to, maybe this is just some elaborate trick that’s been played to get us alone in the darkness. Only the sound of Charlie’s breathing and the crunch of her feet on the dry grass is what keeps me convinced that I’m not alone in the world.
And then I hear the music, starting with the deep bass of a beat that gradually becomes a full on sound experience. We reach a break in the trees and finally see the lake and the massive bonfire in the center of the clearing. The full moon is bright overhead illuminating the lapping edge of the water and the dozens of bodies that are little more than moving shadows against the sky.
Charlie grabs my hand when I hesitate by the trees, just before we enter the clearing, and pulls me forward. “This was your idea. Let’s go.”
Remarkably, entering the fray is easier than it should be. Someone offers me a red cup full of mysterious liquid that I decline on smell alone, alcohol is not something that I will ever touch. I’ve seen firsthand the negative consequences of intoxication enough to want anything to do with it, and the same goes for other drugs.
There’s a sort of anonymity in the darkness. While I can tell where people are as we move closer to the bonfire, their features are obscured and I can’t tell who they are. It feels good to be invisible again, even though I recognize it won’t last. We approach the bonfire and the group of people standing and sitting on the surrounding rocks. I don’t recognize any of them at first, but it’s only a matter of time before I have my first run-in.
“Goldie, I’m surprised to see you here.”
I turn to see Kai standing behind me, expression mocking even in the dim light. “Kai, I’m not surprised to see you. Disappointed, maybe.”
Charlie gasps beside me, but doesn’t say anything. I told her that I was done playing nice with the Diamonds. And she hasn’t seen anything yet.
“You wound me, Goldie. And how can you even be sure I’m Kai?”
“Oh, I’m sure. You have the more punchable face. And your brother doesn’t call me Goldie.”
He laughs while Charlie stares between us in shock.
“You’re not still mad about that little stunt on your first day, are you? I swear it was all in good fun.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not laughing and neither is Chloe, except when she’s destroying my stuff or making me fall off a diving board. Your little stunt is going to get me killed.”
His eyebrows go up as if that last bit is news to him. “I heard you had an accident at the pool. You look like you’re still walking.”
“No thanks to Chloe, or you.”
“I swear I had nothing to do with your room getting trashed or the diving board thing. Setting you up in the dining hall was just part of the game.” Kai holds his hand to his heart, an expression of contrition on his face that isn’t exactly matched by the wide smile on his face. “Let me make it up to you.”
“And how are you planning to do that?”
“The real party is up at the boathouse, all anybody does down here is get loaded. Come up and hang.”
“Sounds like a great way to be humiliated. Why would I do that?”
“Everyone will be there. Just think of the look on Chloe’s face when you walk in with me.”
“With you?” My treacherous heart skips a beat, even as I think that I’d rather tear it out of my chest than spend any time with a snake like Kai.
“Sure, Goldie.”
“Tell me why you’re trying to help me, all of a sudden.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare up at him. “I refuse to believe you’re capable of feeling bad about anything, especially all this. What gives?”
“You really know how to cut deep.” Silver eyes flash in the darkness with an emotion that doesn’t have a name. “I’m giving you the chance to make your mark, Goldie. Whatever happens in the boathouse tonight will be all over the Inner Circle tomorrow. For better or worse, this is the last great hoorah before the voting starts.”
I don’t actually believe a word he says. But it’s time to take a leap, because the only other alternative is crawling under a rock to die. “Fine, but if you call me Goldie one more time, I’ll rip your tongue out.”
“Duly noted.” He smiles, and it’s little more than a glint of white teeth. “Come take your shot, it’s only fair.”
“Because you really care about what’s fair.”
“The game is always fair, even when you wish it wasn’t.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heel and starts down the shore. Only the tiny flare of light from his phone tracks his progress through the dark. I look to the horizon and see the dark shape of a building down the shore that must be the boathouse. From so far away, it seems completely empty and devoid of any light, but I don’t doubt that the Diamonds are all inside. None of them are around the bonfire so it only makes sense that they’d find a place for themselves.
Charlie grabs my arm before I can take a step forward, stopping me. “Going up there is terrible idea.”
“Of course it is. But if I stay down here and get drunk around the bonfire, then when I wake up in the morning nothing will have changed.”
“The Diamonds will crucify you.”
“Not literally, I hope.”
“You know what I mean.”
Kai’s retreating back fades into the black. If he gets any further ahead, we won’t be able to catch up. Apparently, he doesn’t have any intention of repeating his offer. Even if some small part of him wants to make things right, his magnanimity only stretches so far. We snooze, we lose.
“Are you coming, or not?”
She bites down on her bottom lip, chewing hard enough that it’s a wonder that she doesn’t draw blood. “You will definitely hear I told you so from me, if anything goes wrong.”
I loop my arm through hers and pull her toward the dark boathouse. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now let’s go show these privileged assholes what we’re made of.”
“Sounds like fatal last words.”
Chapter 12
I don’t catch up to Kai until he’s almost at the door of the boathouse. Through the windows, I can see the small glow of lights inside, but it’s quiet enough that I can only hear the creak of rope and slosh of water against the wooden dock.
Everything seems hushed, even though I know that there are at least a dozen people on the other side of the door. Kai’s hand touches the doorknob, but he hesitates for the smallest moment and flashes me a grin that’s barely visible in the dark.
“I hope you’re ready for this.”
Before I can respond, he pushes open the door.
The inside of the boathouse is only barely less dark than the midnight black of the lake. Small tea lights are scattered around the floor, low enough that the light wouldn’t be visible through the windows. A handful of faces turn toward us, eerie in the flickering light.
“Oh, hell no.” It’s too dark to make out her features, but I hear Chloe’s distinctive voice from across the room. “No Prolis allowed in the boathouse.”
“She’s not a Proli, nobody is yet.” Kai shoves his hands down into his pockets and rocks up on his toes, the picture of mock innocence. “Vote won’t be for another three weeks.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Chloe snaps.
“And when it’s time, we’ll all follow the rules.”
There are rules, after all.
I try to keep the surprise off my face as Kai wanders away to a nearby table that’s covered in bottl
es. Part of me fully expected him to throw me to the wolves, not defend my right to be here. The surprise of it sends a little shock running through me, followed quickly by the realization that even if the rules are made up, they get taken seriously here.
This may be the last time that Charlie or I get to attend a party like this.
Better make the most of it.
The interior of the boathouse is rugged, only wooden planks make up the floor and ceiling. It’s open on one side to the lake which is barely visible in the dark. Tealights have been placed on the floor in an outline around the spaces where boats should be docked, likely to keep people from accidentally falling into the water.
A small table is in the corner of the room and a handful of people are seated around it playing cards. Others are sitting on a stack of rotten wooden boards on the other side, talking in voices that are too low to make out.
Charlie leans close to whisper in my ear. “We should not be here.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? We’re practically Prolis already, in the world according to Chloe.”
But she still looks nervous. “Everyone gets a chance to vote, what happens here could significantly tip the scales.”
I tell myself that I don’t care about the vote, that nobody will tell me where I can and can’t go on campus. But I stare around the quiet room, at the faces cast in darkness, and I can’t help but wonder exactly how far removed from reality I’ve found myself. In the dark and the quiet, they seem capable of anything.
Just as I’m wondering what the big deal is with being up here, because the boathouse part of the party seems deader than what’s happening down by the bonfire, I hear the sound of the door crashing open behind me.
Asher stumbles in alone, a cup in his hands. His arrival creates an odd sort of tension, even more so than mine had only a few minutes before. It’s as if everyone in the room is holding their breath, preparing for a great exhale.
It’s obvious at a glance that he’s been drinking, not enough for complete inebriation but he’ll be even more unpredictable than normal. I expect a cutting remark, but to my surprise, his gaze simply passes over me in a long once-over before he turns away with a grimace. “Are we ready to start?”
