Elite

by Carrie Aarons

  Six

  Eloise

  My roommate had the personality of a tepid cup of Earl Grey.

  Jane, a biology major from somewhere called Upstate New York, she had practically shriveled away from my hand when I’d offered it in introduction. So far, she’d spoken all of three words, and had eyed my rather extravagant, compared to hers, decor with mild horror.

  Maybe it was because the second of my three Kate Moss prints featured her bare nipples …

  I wasn’t too worried though, she seemed rather harmless. I could use some harmless in my life right now, since the girls I’d met thus far at Jade Mountain were about as nice as a dagger held to my throat.

  Adjusting to a roommate would be a bit of a different experience for me; in Paris, I had my own flat in a very posh building in the city center. I was used to two thousand square feet, a balcony overlooking the Eiffel tower, and a waterfall shower with a sunken tub next to it.

  In the States, I shared a room the size of a shoe box with a stranger, had to enter the hallway to get to the shower, which I needed to wear flip-flops in, and could hear the neighbor upstairs bouncing a basketball on the ceiling at all hours.

  But it was kind of fun, this new experience, and I’d said I wanted to be fully immersed, so I was up for anything.

  I’d gone to bed last night wondering if perhaps I should hide a knife in my bedside table; after all, I didn’t really know Jane from a hole in the wall. But the jet lag had won out, and this morning when I’d woken around seven a.m., she was already gone.

  Looking at her side of the room, I saw she’d hung a poster of the periodic table, and her desk was already cluttered with books and beakers. Where she’d gone this early, I had no clue, but at least I got the room to myself to get ready. Something told me she might not appreciate Ellie Goulding at full volume in the morning … or anytime at all.

  This was fine, I thought to myself as I turned my curling iron on. I didn’t need to be bum buddies with my roommate, and at least she was quiet and seemed tidy.

  An hour later and I’m headed out to my eight-thirty class, Notes and Bouquets. An entire class on smelling wine, at eight o’clock in the morning. Who said university was hard?

  The grounds were bustling with students, move-in day having come and gone in a flurry of commotion, suitcases, crying parents and returning students eager to see their friends. Part of me had gotten a twinge of homesickness, watching all of those families say their goodbyes. Not that my parents had bothered to keep tabs on me in the past five or so years, ever since Dad’s career blew up.

  Our lives had changed so much since the days in our two-bedroom flat in Liverpool, in some ways for the better and some ways, for the worse. We had more bloody money than we’d ever be able to count, we wanted for nothing. No one had to decide between groceries for the month or paying the electric bill. I got a top-class education, and my Mum never had to work another day in her life.

  But … we weren’t really the family we’d once been. My parents were constantly jet setting to a new shooting location, or attending some swanky party. At first, when my Dad had landed the role on Britain’s favorite primetime TV show, they had promised that we’d always be a unit. But slowly, and as the privileged lifestyle crept into the corners of our lives, they’d stopped asking where I’d been. The freedom, especially with the kind of money and power I now possessed, was heady for a mere fifteen-year-old. I’d loved that I didn’t have to answer to adults anymore.

  It wasn’t until much later that I realized they were trying to replace love with money, gifts with caring. Neither of them had even mentioned coming to visit me in the States, much less helping me move in.

  I shook the cobwebs of sadness off with a flick of my blond curls, and stood staring up at the majestic clock tower that surveyed the student quad.

  I spotted Gretchen clomping across campus in snakeskin boots that would look ridiculous on anyone else in Vermont, but for some reason she was totally pulling them off. She was arm-in-arm with a tall brunette chap, and one look at her possessive hand on his arm told me that this was her boyfriend. Poor lad, he was probably more whipped than a horse in a polo match.

  I didn’t let her see me, not wanting to break her and Nina’s precious rules. But as I turned to walk to the building my class was in, Northwright Hall, a voice caught me.

  “You were at the boathouse the other night, weren’t you?”

  I turn to see a short girl on my left, her features like a pixie, with a cute brown long bob to match. I want to call her Tinkerbell, but I refrain. I look around, waiting to see if this is a trap.

  Tinkerbell, okay so I refer to her as that in my head, drops her voice to a whisper. “I was one of the other pledges.”

  She probably shouldn’t even be addressing me like this, because we weren’t supposed to talk about anything to do with Charter House. But I wasn’t scared of those girls, and I hadn’t had much friendly female interaction here yet.

  So I bit. “I’m Eloise, nice to officially meet you.”

  She smiles with relief. “Abby. I can’t even tell you how jumpy I’ve been since that meeting.”

  I snort. “It was all pretty mystical, huh? What’s the deal with them, anyway?”

  Abby’s short locks move on the wind as she turns to watch Gretchen greet two other girls in impeccable outfits across the quad. “That redhead is Kendall James, she’s been a Charter girl since her freshman year, which is almost unheard of. And the other one is Uma, her family is like Native American royalty or something. And of course, you know Gretchen.”

  I stand with Abby, watching the group. “I couldn’t find much about these so-called social clubs on Google.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t, would you? They’re highly secretive. I’m a junior and all I’ve heard are whispered rumors … I’m surprised I even got tapped. But my father recently moved into a highly regarded political role, and I’m top of my class, so maybe that’s why. And clearly, we know why you were chosen. Are you nervous?”

  She may be seeking me out because of camaraderie, but I don’t want to squander the opportunity to make a friendly face. “I guess more … anxious. I’ve dealt with the mean girls, and the sly birds. It’s the tasks that have my head in knots, but I guess that’s the fun part, right? We can all stick together through it, right?”

  Abby smiles, and I think I like Tinkerbell. “Absolutely. If nothing else, I hear the parties are incredible.”

  “I love me a good party. I’m walking toward Northwright, where are you headed?” I’m a little ashamed that I have to pull my map out. The campus is still surprisingly confusing, and I’m not the sharpest when it comes to directions.

  “All of my classes are in Gobin, the science building. I’m an engineering major, and most of my pre-reqs were already completed before my freshman year. Technically, I’ll go onto the graduate program next semester.” She shrugs, walking in the direction we both need to go.

  I follow closely, shouldering the cute leather satchel I’d picked up in a boutique in Munich specifically for school here. “So, you’re saying that if I need any course help, I’ll come to you.”

  She laughed, nodding. “I’m always happy to help.”

  We part ways when the path splits, going to our respective buildings on either side of the lawn.

  “I guess I’ll see you in the next dark corridor we bump into each other in.” I wave.

  Abby’s grin is made of secrets. “Looking forward to it.”

  Seven

  Eloise

  The instructions on the envelope slipped under my door this time were clear.

  Dresses of gold, only to be worn by you.

  May the night take your wildest dreams and grant them true.

  The Dock, Wednesday, 10:30 p.m.

  I had no idea what I was in for as my black heels clacked along the icy gravel down to the lake. I must be bloody insane for agreeing to walk out into the cold, Vermont night with nothing but a slip of gold silk and a black f
ur stole covering my body, but here I was.

  Why couldn’t I have just stayed in my dorm room, eating popcorn and Skyping with friends from home like Jane? Give that boring, normal life I’d craved so badly a try?

  Maybe because, deep down, I knew that wasn’t really me. Something in me thirsted for this adventure, loved the way my heart beat so hard against my ribcage that I was practically wet with anticipation.

  As I approach the dock, I see four other bodies standing there, shivering just like me. Abby is among them, and I deduce that the three other girls are the pledges being initiated with me.

  “I think we’ve lost our marbles. Or we’re just bloody mental for going along with this.” I laugh as I walk up to them, all of our knees knocking together in the cold.

  Abby laughs, her teeth chattering. “Isn’t this what attending college in Vermont is all about? Walking around in frigid temperatures in the skimpiest clothing possible? Girls, this is Eloise, but I think you knew that. Eloise, this is Amelia, Jaden, and Mara.”

  We all wave at each other, though the other girls look at me as if I have a third eye growing out of my forehead. They’re probably afraid I’ll get all of us skinned alive by the Charter House girls.

  A noise comes out of the darkness, nothing visible as of now except for the mountain. A few minutes later, a boat no bigger than the size of an air mattress pulls up to the dock, a boy in a suit manning the dingy.

  “Get in.” His voice isn’t mean, but it isn’t made to soothe us.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jaden finally talks, and I can hear the fear. “I’m not getting in that. We’ll drown.”

  “If you don’t get in, you’ll always be out.” So this guy has riddles too. Gretchen must have sent him.

  I see her eye the boat, tension radiating from her. So I take the first step, sensing that these girls need a leader.

  “Oh, come on, you slags, at least if we drown in these icy waters we won’t have to put up with Nina barking in our face. And I promise I’ll sacrifice myself, Jack from Titanic-style in the water. After all, I am the British one. Although, he was American, so maybe I should throw one of you overboard …”

  This cracks a smile from Abby and Mara, and they follow me in. The other two climb aboard reluctantly, the boat swaying with our weight. I can’t say my heart doesn’t leap into my throat as we speed across the lake, the cold wind whipping my nose and eyes, making them water. I’ve never smelled air this fresh, and although the icy gusts needle at my skin, there is something addicting about it.

  The guy steering the boat suddenly slows us, land coming into view. A thick forest just off the shore, he pulls onto the sand and stares at us.

  “Out you go.”

  I have no idea where we are, but it seems to be an island somewhere on the lake. Without him, we have no way of getting back to campus, and it feels as if there is no one, and nothing, around.

  Abby takes the lead this time, hopping out. “We made it this far, come on.”

  We all climb out, our heels digging into the sand. Boat guy gestures toward the trees. “Follow the path.”

  Then he’s gone. A spooky feeling crawls up my back, nothing lighting this island but the moon. We move silently, on guard, into the woods, walking along a path that is anything but helpful. Stepping over brush, ducking away from branches, we must walk for what feels like half a mile.

  Finally, I hear noise. Or more … a beat, a vibration.

  “That’s music,” Jaden points out.

  Through the trees, I spot lights, and as we hurry along, the cold thoroughly drenching us now, more of our destination comes into view.

  Eventually, we all stand in a line, staring.

  “What the actual fuck?” Amelia speaks the first words I’ve heard out of her mouth all night.

  But … she’s bloody correct. A house, no a mansion, rises up before us … built completely within the sanctuary of this forest. It’s something out of an old English country side, a vacation home for royalty just plopped down in the middle of nowhere. Constructed of light stone, with stained-glass windows and turrets rising into the sky, it looks like a haunted castle.

  Except, of course, for the rap music that spills out the open double front doors, and red plastic cups littering the lawn.

  “What is this place?” Abby breathes, turning to me as our smiles mirror each other.

  Because even I have to admit, this is bloody cool.

  “Welcome to The Outpost, pledges.” Nina appears out of nowhere, a long black velvet dress wrapping around her body like a glove.

  I stare down at my own sequin gold dress, and realize that the five of us will be the only ones in there wearing a different color. Smart, single us out, see how we fair. These girls and their mental games are spot on.

  “Your first night of luxury and debauchery, this will show you exactly what it looks like to become one of us. Nothing too extreme tonight, we want you to enjoy yourselves, but a small task to pass first.”

  Yeah, right. They may say that tonight was all fun and games, but everything with these people was a test. I should know, back in Europe, I was the one who tested.

  Nina walked to the door, and we followed. Standing at the opening was a guy in a tuxedo, holding a tray. The tray contained five glasses, and a bowl of sugar cubes. I knew immediately what this was.

  “You’ll take a shot of absinthe before you can enter the party.”

  The lot of us are silent, and I don’t see water anywhere on that tray. I’m no stranger to the drink, I’ve had it in many a dark bar or lounge in the remotest parts of the world, but I know how dangerous it can be without the proper mixture.

  “Are you kidding? That’s suicide!” Mara bursts out.

  Nina was waiting for that, her lips curling into a feral smile. “If you don’t, you won’t get in. And then well … you’re out.”

  Mara doesn’t even budge. “Count me out. This is insane.”

  “Leave immediately, then. You’ll have to wait on shore until a boat comes along, which could be hours. Thanks for playing.”

  The other girls look on, shocked, as Mara stomps out of the clearing where the house sits. I’m not surprised though, I knew one of us would drop tonight.

  I step up, not wanting to delay further. Sticking the sugar cube between my teeth, to at least dilute the green hallucinogenic a little bit, I swallow the shot with a burn but keep any noises locked in my throat.

  Sticking out my tongue, like I’ve completed the challenge and want her to see, I quirk an eyebrow.

  “You may enter.” Nina nods, done with me.

  I stroll into the house like my lips aren’t on fire and I’m not panicking. Making my way around the corner, I fumble for the nearest bathroom, knowing exactly what I need.

  It’s luck that I find one on the second try of pushing a door in. Closing and locking it, I stumble for the sink, sucking in as much water as I can fit in my hand multiple times. I have to take the edge off of some of the alcohol that just entered my system, or I’ll be walking around here seeing fairies and ghosts in less than five minutes.

  When I’m satisfied with my water intake, I check my makeup and hair in the bathroom, pinching my cheeks for color and fluffing my hair for a little extra va-va-voom.

  I find a coat closet and hide my fur way in the back, taking my small clutch with me. My shoulders are completely bare, my breasts threatening to fall out of the sparkly dress that barely reaches my thighs. My black Stuart Weitzman heels clack against the floor as I bump into Abby in the hall.

  She’s already stumbling on her feet just fifteen minutes after the shot. I grab her arm, “Go to the loo and slurp as much water from the faucet as you can. Go.”

  My voice must penetrate her sluggish mind, because she nods and heads off in search of one. Feeling the alcohol pierce my veins, I relish the burn. A little fun never hurt anyone.

  The mansion is … bewitching. I’ve been in some places such as this one, but they always seem so mystical to
me, as if I’ve been transported back to another era. Marble, stone and dark corners every which way you turn. Candles covering every surface. Drapes and lace curtains that mask certain rooms, making the whole thing appear maze-like.

  I find the kitchen, raiding the bar and making myself a Tom Collins. All of the boys in this place are dressed in various states of tuxedo or sharp black suits. All of the girls are in black, besides the pledges. There have to be several of the social club houses here, because I notice some other girls in gold who are not pledging for Charter. Because of my dress, because of the color I wear, I attract eyes.

  Good, let them watch me, it’s intoxicating, having whispers follow me, men’s eyes pinned to my curves. Underneath, I’m a hedonist, and I’m thriving here.

  “Eloise Mason.” A whisper of a voice curls around my ear, and I have to swivel to catch the body brushing by me.

  Colton Reiter stands in front of me, a sport coat covering his long, built body. The shirt underneath, a dark cobalt, matches the inner ring of his eyes. His presence commands attention, almost everyone in the room undulating around him like the sun.

  And then I realize he’s said my name. I narrow my eyes, “Been stalking me, eh?”

  “You should know now, there is nothing that I can’t find out on this campus.” He sips from the clear plastic cup in his hand, and I smell expensive gin.

  “So you found out my name, I’m not really that impressed. I’m sure you’ve got half the girls in this room curled around your finger, it couldn’t have been that hard.” Except that inside, I’m pouting, because it’s annoying that he has a leg up on me now.

  “A Charter pledge, huh? I wouldn’t peg you for one, but you’re a collector’s item, that’s for sure. I’m not surprised Gretchen wants you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “The daughter of an international television star, British society royalty, sexy …” He adds the last one with a wink.