by Wood, Vivian
God, I want to see her like that.
“Expect the unexpected.” I step back, giving myself another foot to breathe, and hold my hand out. “Give me your dress.”
Emily bends, sweeping the dress from the floor, and hands it over. This time, she follows me as I cross the hall to my bedroom and hang it from a hook above the ancient radiator. Warm air blasts from between the slats at the top and the dress turns slowly above it, buffeted by the breeze.
She’s waiting at the threshold when I turn around. “So this is where the magic happens for Wolf Astor.”
I let a grin spread across my face to cover my pounding heart. “More magic than you could ever imagine.” Emily takes one step into the room, looking over everything. She’s methodical, intense—and I get the impression she can see right through me. And when those eyes settle on mine again I move closer. “What about you, Emily Danes? Where does the magic happen for you?”
A little smile curves the edges of her lips with a hint of sadness. “There’s no use in pretending.”
I shrug one shoulder. “What could I possibly be pretending?”
Emily shakes her head. “You sit next to me in class, and you’re...” Her voice trails off and she lifts her chin. “Not much magic happens for me. It’s not usually in the cards. Coming to Campbell is about it.”
“Oh?” I feel myself slipping into the same cocky attitude that’s carried me through every other year of my life. “Meeting me wasn’t magic?”
I didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any redder, but it does. Her glance down at the floor, and the way she catches her lip between her teeth, tells me everything I need to know.
I move closer—closer enough to put my fingertips beneath her chin and tilt her face up to mine. “Emily Danes, I’m shocked. Meeting me wasn’t magic?”
“No,” she says, but her voice wavers. “You’re so...intimidating.” Her chest rises and falls underneath my shirt. “And I can see why. I’m—I’m sorry about what happened.”
Our faces are inches apart, but her words freeze me to the spot. “What happened?”
“Your friend.” Emily leans into my hand. “I saw that he died. And Cassandra said—”
It comes over me then, the full force of what I was about to do. I was about to kiss her. I was about to take her. And I was about to put her right in the line of fire.
I don’t even fucking know where the fire is coming from.
I let my hand drop away from her face and it’s like I’ve shocked her. “My dress—I should go.” Then she’s a whirlwind, darting around me to take the dress and run out of the room.
Party’s over.
15
Emily
I sigh for maybe the hundredth time, staring out the window of Campbell’s majestic library. The library itself is amazing; arched Gothic-style ceilings, huge ornate light fixtures, staircases that go up and up and up, winding into ever more obscure sections of ancient and soldering books. At the moment I’m sitting downstairs at one of the huge, heavy study tables facing a massive picture window.
The view looks out over the grass between here and the science building. It’s growing dark and a few people are trickling between the science building and the rest of the campus. But it is Sunday, so there are less now than there would normally be on a weekday.
I guess the students are busy, either with social plans or maybe sleeping off their hangovers from the night before. I’m one of the few people who are still on campus right now, it seems.
I stare out the window, but the same scene replays in my mind, over and over again.
Glancing back at my computer screen, I see the same empty page of my word processor. Typing Story Ideas as a title, I blow out a stream of breath. The cursor blinks at me balefully. I drum my fingertips on their side of my mousepad, willing some ideas to come.
Nope. Nothing.
I pull up the webpage for the Henry David Thoreau scholarship again. It lists the twenty five thousand dollar grand prize at the top, the most coveted prize for short non-fiction works. I won third place last year for my exhaustively researched short non-fiction piece about women in India trying to obtain menstrual supplies.
This year, I really think that the grand prize is right here within my reach… if I could just think of the right story idea. That is the problem, though.
Every idea that I have is either too small or too big. It’s either, why don’t more people care about climate change? Which… as a topic, makes me want to take a nap before I even start writing about it. Who cares?
Or it’s huge. Like, how to solve the poverty crisis. That’s a worthwhile topic, but it’s much too big for one little story to solve.
I need something catchy. Something that will make the people that judge the Henry David Thoreau scholarship sit up and take notice. I sit back with a groan.
What questions have been burning in my mind lately?
Wolf has been on my mind more than I’d like to admit. Max too, actually. But those things are personal to me. There is no appeal in talking about how hot some guys are to a middle aged man.
I pick up a pen, twirling it and staring off into space. What is interesting?
Narrowing my eyes, I have a thought. The Skull and Thorns are interesting. They are supposedly a secret society. Rich boys with secrets. If watching the news this year has taught me anything, it’s that people with secrets usually have skeletons in their closets.
And the circumstances of Asher Radcliffe’s death are mysterious…
Tilting my head, I ponder the idea of trying to find out more about the Skull and Thorns. All I know currently is a little about their leader, Wolf. And of course I’ve been to Rose House, that drafty old mansion they call their home. But I feel like all the interesting stuff happens somewhere else, somewhere out of public view.
Hell, I might as well look into the organization. The Henry David Thoreau scholarship deadline is months and months away. If I don’t hear anything interesting in a couple of weeks, I can try another topic.
I key to a new line in my word processor and write, Secret Society??
As I do, the lights dim in the library. A pleasant voice comes over the intercom. “The library will be closing in fifteen minutes. Kindly return any reference books to the front desk. Thank you.”
Yikes. I glance at my clock only to find that it it almost six. Hurrying to pack up my books and my laptop, I sling my tote bag over my shoulder and head out of the library. Looking at my watch, I judge that if I hurry, I can make it to the dining hall before they stop serving for the day.
My bag is pretty heavy, though. I should make a detour across campus really quick to drop my bag at my dorm room. Maybe then I can pick up the copy of Oryx and Crake that I’ve been devouring. When I don’t have anyone to sit with in the dining hall, books are always there for me. It’s a familiar routine, hearkening back to the school lunch room at Prineville High.
Rushing to Rebekah Scott Hall, I climb the stairs quickly and sprint down the hall to my room. Opening the door, I see Cassandra sitting cross-legged on my bed. Lily sits across the room from her, looking pouty.
Cassandra beams at me, holding up a plastic bag. “I was hoping you’d come home soon. Guess who got chicken gyros for dinner?”
Letting the door close behind me, I head inside and let my tote bag drop to the ground.
“Ummm… you did, I’m guessing?”
Cassandra laughs wholeheartedly, throwing her head back a little. She commits to it the way she seems to commit to everything: sincerely and wholly.
“You make me laugh,” she sighs, wiping at her face. “Come and sit, We were just about to dig in. And Lily was about to tell us about how Wolf totally almost made out with her. Isn’t that right, Lily?”
Wolf? Paling, I sink down next to Cassandra. Lily blushes bright pink, the color set off by the pink and gold room decorations surrounding her. I accept a chicken gyro from Cassandra but I just unwrap it and leave it lying on my knee. Tho
ugh the smell is enticing, I seem to have lost my appetite just now.
Lily shoots me a look as Cassandra hands her a foil wrapped gyro. I can’t tell if she is embarrassed or trying to decide whether I’m worthy of her tale.
Cassandra takes a huge bite of her gyro and moans. “Omigod, it’s so good. Jesus. Mmm. Now Lily, you were saying?”
Lily shifts on her bed. “Well, I was downstairs, talking to Wolf…” She stops and looks at me. “That’s Alexander Astor. Indulf is his middle name, or Wolf for short.”
My eyebrows shoot up. So that’s how Wolf got his name. And here I was, thinking that it was self-styled. I should have figured that someone as wealthy and privileged as Wolf wouldn’t have to work hard to find a cool nickname.
“Anyway,” Lily continues. “I was standing downstairs, talking to Alice. And then Wolf and Max walked by. I thought they were just going to pretend that they didn’t know me, but Wolf recognized me. He started talking to me… and he said we should get coffee.”
She makes an excited facial expression. A chuckle escapes my lips without my say so. Both girls turn their eyes to me, curious. Wide, I put my fingers over my lips, surprised at myself.
Lily’s expression turns frosty. She raises one perfect brow. If I could take a picture of her at this exact moment, I would hang it in a museum and title it Born To Cut You.
“What exactly are you laughing about?” she asks, folding her hands in a waiting gesture.
My breath hitches. “I… it’s nothing. Just… I didn’t know you had a crush on Wolf. That’s all.”
Lily clicks her tongue. “Why do you care? Don’t you have some scholarships you should be trying to renew right now or something?”
I cringe immediately, my eyes filling with tears. She really goes for the soft underbelly when she’s aiming to kill.
“Lily!” Cassandra says, her expression horrified. “That is so classist of you!”
“So? Mathilde’s mum works in the admissions office part time, as a volunteer. Her mum said that Emily was only admitted because she is so poor and needy,” Lily roars, standing up. “Let’s face it. Emily isn’t one of our kind and shouldn’t be in our school. Everybody can tell. She radiates poverty.” She wiggles her fingers to demonstrate.
I gasp, deeply stung. Not that I didn’t worry that people thought that about me… but I had hoped to keep my scholarship student status under wraps.
Cassandra is already surging upward, grabbing me by the arm.
“Lily Mizundo, shame on you! You are awfully high and mighty for someone whose parents had to promise to fund a new art galley just so that she wouldn’t be waitlisted!”
Now it’s Lily’s turn to gasp. “I told you that in confidence!”
Cassandra looks disgusted. “The truth will come out, Lily. Come on Emily, we can go to my house.”
She starts towing me out of my room. I barely have time to grab my purse before we are out in the hall. “But Cassandra—”
“No buts!”
She halfway drags me down the hall, down the stairs, and out of the building.
16
Emily
I stumble along after her, my mind still reeling from what Lily said.
Emily isn’t one of our kind and shouldn’t be in our school.
She said what I have been thinking to myself over and over again since the day that I arrived. Like a mantra, I’ve been repeating it to myself for weeks now. But said aloud though… it has a different kind of power.
Caught up in replaying the scene with Lily over and over again, I’m not really paying attention to where Cassandra goes. She just pulls me along and I follow.
It’s not until we are leaving campus, coming to a stop on the street corner while we wait for the light, that I realize that I don’t know where Cassandra lives.
“Where are we going?” I ask, hitching my purse higher on my shoulder.
“Thistle House,” Cassandra says, sliding a glance at me. “It’s next door to Rose House. It’s not a secret society or anything, though. It’s just a house and a social club.”
When she walks me up to Thistle House, I stare. Though the gray stone building is clearly smaller than magnificent Rose House, it is still stately. There are roses all over the front yard, growing delicately around wrought iron trellises. Cassandra climbs the steps of Thistle House, opening the front door wide.
Stepping inside, I’m immediately surrounded in the warmth of a large living area. The walls are a toasted almond, most of the furniture is plush and red, and there are a few girls curled up watching a huge television. When we come in, I see Alice and Mathilde sit up, smiling sleepily.
“Hey,” they say at once. Then they look at each other and giggle, each laying back down on a large red plush beanbag.
Cassandra doesn’t even greet them. Still looking stern, she pulls me along into a hallway that is lit with sconces. She tows me straight to her door, ushering me inside.
It’s beautiful in here, that’s for sure. There is a tall window the divides the room between the bed set and the study area. To the right, sheets of silk hang from the ceiling over the purple and silver bed. To the left, a silver desk sits by the window, purple accessories adorning it.
Cassandra drops onto one of two big purple beanbags, a sigh on her lips. Unsure what else to do, I sit timidly on the other beanbag. Cassandra looks at me, her green eyes piecing me.
“I am sorry,” she apologizes, shaking her head. “I can’t believe Lily would behave like that.”
Looking around for a moment, I try to think of what to say. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not!” Cassandra says. She looks despairing. “She’s not normally so… elitist.”
“Mmm.” I don’t want her to ask about the life I just left behind, so I don’t comment.
“You know what we need?”
I raise my eyebrows in lieu of an answer. She launches herself up and disappears from the room. She’s gone for a minute, but when she comes back she has an armful of snacks. Bagels chips, hummus, blueberry goat cheese. She lays it all out before me, along with a bottle of wine and two plastic cups.
She uncorks the bottle. “Have you ever had blueberry wine?”
I shake my head, tucking a strand of my hair back behind my ear. She smiles.
“You’ll like it.” She pours us both a glass and then opens the bag of bagel chips. Spreading some of the blueberry goat cheese on the bagel, she crunches on the chip.
Taking a cautious sip of my wine, I’m pleased to find that it’s flavor is exactly like blueberry juice. There is a hint of alcohol, but that sting is so far back on my palate that it’s negligible. I take a swig, then take one of the bagel chips that Cassandra offers to me.
We eat and drink in silence for a couple minutes. Normally I would rush to fill the gap, but for some reason Cassandra has managed to put me at ease.
After I drain my cup, I refill it. I take another sip of the wine, savoring the way the flavor of blueberry spreads throughout my mouth. “Does this even have any alcohol in it?”
Cassandra snickers, watching me drain another cupful. “Yeah. It’s has a ton.”
“A ton?” I repeat, wide eyed. “I don’t want to get drunk.”
She pats my hand. “It’s probably a little too late to worry about that. Anyway, getting drunk is supposed to be relaxing. So eat another bagel chip and tell me what you know about Wolf.”
Flushing, I duck my head. I’m feeling a little looser, it’s true. And there is a part of me that wants to giggle with someone the way that Alice and Mathilde did earlier.
Biting my lip, I try to suppress a smile. “I don’t know what you mean. He’s just my partner in my biochemistry lab.”
She sits up and looks at my intently. “Omigod, there is something! I can tell. Your aura whispers your secrets to me.”
I give her a look. She loads another bagel chip with goat cheese, staring at me with rapt attention. Heaving a sigh, I relent.
“We may have kissed
once,” I admit. “Well, we almost did, anyway.”
Cassandra groans. “Oh my god, I knew it! Well, I knew it when you went red just now. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. When did it happen?”
My face turns an even redder shade. “Friday night at the party.”
“So he did more than flirt with you. Hmm.”
“And Max did too. Well, he flirted with me, at least. He made his interest in me clear as a bell.” I chew on my bottom lip.
Her eyes light up. “Really? You’re practically in a love triangle with two of the hottest guys on campus, and you were going to keep that from me?”
That makes me laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
She glances at me, a speculative expression of her pretty face. “I like you. I think the other girls in Thistle House will like you.”
I blush. “Thanks. I like you too.”
She spreads another chip with cheese. “I think we should introduce you around the house and let you get to know everyone. Then I think we should campaign to get you moved in here.”
My eyes go wide. “I… I don’t know about that, Cassandra.”
“Cass. And I do. I think you are a Thistle in the making.” She munches on the chip, looking satisfied.
I draw in a deep breath. “Are the Thistles related to the Skull and Thorns?”
Cassandra cocks her head. “A little. Our lines trace all the way back to when the college was founded.”
Screwing up my face, I take a sip of wine. I’m elated that Cass thinks so highly of me, but…
But how will I be able to afford it? I have six thousand dollars in my student checking account, which is meant to last me for as long as possible.
And what will the House do if they take me on and then they find out about my research into the Skulls? I know that they aren’t the same organization technically as the Thistles, but they are obviously pretty damn close.
“Cheers!” Cass says suddenly, thrusting her wine at me. “To the first time we got drunk together at Campbell.”