Elite

by Carrie Aarons

  I sigh, feeling great to tell someone about my restaurant idea. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and while I know it will take a couple of years to amass the respect and contacts to open it, it’s something that is always in the back of my mind.

  “That sounds freaking amazing. But enough shop talk, let’s get drunk. It’s our assignment, we need to work very hard on it.” She holds her glass out to me.

  Laughing, I clink my glass with hers. For now, I can relax and enjoy my last days of American freedom. Before the real world comes rushing back up like the ground at a descending airplane.

  Thirty-One

  Eloise

  April brings a warmer Vermont, and I begin to thaw out to the States just as the ice melts.

  Not that I didn’t love seeing a very frigid winter, it was quite an experience, but this early spring is beautiful and picturesque. Green begins to fill in all around; on the trees, in the grass, spreading through all of the flower beds strategically maintained throughout campus.

  I spend most of my days in class and with Colton, everything about the boy consuming my life. I never thought I’d be this girl, the one who gets a boyfriend and dedicates every waking moment to her relationship … honestly, I’ve mocked birds like that all my life. But … I guess you never truly know what it’s like until you meet someone who just falls into your life like they were always supposed to be there. On paper, we have nothing in common, no similar background of interests. Yet, Colton and I just work. He puts up with my sassy, sometimes high-maintenance, ways, teasing me about my need for designer clothes and expensive wines. And I learn about his basketball, admiring his dedication but not treating him like the rest of campus does, like a god.

  Well, except for in the bedroom, where he definitely is one.

  “Haven’t seen you around here in a while.” Ciara sits like a feline waiting to pounce on the velvet navy couch in the study of Charter House.

  That’s because I have purposely been staying away from these girls, the ones who were supposed to become my sisters. “Yeah, been so busy with class and my boyfriend. You know how it is.”

  I put an emphasis on the last part of my sentence, because we both know she doesn’t know what it’s like to have a boyfriend. Considering she’s sleeping with Gretchen’s man.

  “Some could take that as a sign that you don’t want to belong here.” Her glare is deadly.

  But these girls don’t scare me. They never did, and that was probably the first indication I never should have gone along with their charades. But I’m on a mission now, and I don’t need to be caught in the act.

  “I apologize, what can I do to make up for it?” I play right into her hand, like the canary to the cat.

  She smiles. “Nina and I need to make a presentation for the Social Club board, show the alumni what we’ve been doing to increase the value of Charter House. But I am so busy …”

  “I’ll work something up, if you give me some notes.” I jump at the chance to get her out of my hair, and into the study.

  If I can use this excuse to be hanging around Charter House for the next few days, then I’ll take it. No one will suspect what I’m really doing, and it will give me open access to the library and studies here. And all of the desk drawers I’ll be filing through when no one is looking.

  “Good little pledge. It’s due by Friday.” Ciara almost tuts me on the head as she passes, but thinks wiser of it.

  I just roll my eyes internally, knowing that I have to endure this for only a little longer. And that I’m getting someone justice in the process.

  My laptop sits open, a PowerPoint presentation pulled up with half written ideas on each slide. That’s how it’s looked for about an hour now, ever since Nina left me in the library with instructions and a scowl as she backed out the of the room.

  Because for an hour, I’ve been discreetly searching through desk drawer after desk drawer, bookcase after bookcase, to try and find anything that might lead to more information on the scandal that these girls perpetrated and covered up.

  Talking to Asher has spurred me on, making me even more convinced that I need to find this secret and … well, I’m not sure what I’ll do with it once I have it. On one hand, I don’t want to out this poor girl even more. But maybe, just maybe, she needs the advocate she never got at the time of the assault.

  Someone walks by the entrance to the library, not that anyone ever comes in here to actually work, and I jump back to looking like I’m completing my Ciara-assigned punishment.

  Jesus, I was not made for this spy stuff.

  I walk around, pretending to look at books, when I come to a particularly interesting shelf. A stack of romance books in the midst of these first edition novels … is suspect. Titles with BDSM, erotica, second-chance and other tropes that I wouldn’t imagine finding in here sit on the shelf in the corner of the room. I thumb through a couple of them, looking for any piece of paper that might lead me on.

  But alas, someone in the house just has a thing for romance novels. Bravo, I love a good sappy love story, or one that helps me get my rocks off, as much as the next girl.

  As I’m turning to walk back to the desk, I lean my hand against the thick piece of wood at the end of the bookcase, trying to maneuver out of the corner. And as soon as I do, I feel it creak under my hand.

  Pausing, I take my fingers away from the column, looking it up and down. To the untrained eye, it simply looks like the end piece of the bookcase, smashed as close up to the corner of the wall as possible. But look a little closer and I can see that the front piece of wood doesn’t quite catch the other two, that it’s been priced off a number of times and doesn’t lay just right.

  Listening for footsteps, and hearing none, I quietly position myself in front of the wonky bookcase. And as silently as I can, I use both hands to pull the front piece free.

  It takes some effort, but with a deafening groan, that makes sweat pool between my breasts in nervous anticipation that someone will hear, it finally gives way after a few tugs.

  And when it does, a few sheets of paper come fluttering out, flying through the air, one hitting me in the face.

  I grab it, my hands flying like mad around the space to stop the pages from making any noise as they float around. My stomach was in my throat, my pulse beating so hard in my ears that I was sure the girls in the house were going to hear it. Putting the pages together, I hide them behind my back until I get back to the desk, my computer still open to that stupid presentation.

  Checking that the coast is clear one more time, I hide the sheets on my lap under the desk, and begin to flip through them.

  It’s a non-disclosure agreement of sorts, definitely drafted by someone with a law degree and knowledge of what they were doing. Which means adults were involved in this … which means someone knew what these kids did and covered it up for them. I thought some of the privileged I knew back in Europe were wonky, but this took it to a whole other level.

  Julia Henley.

  I read the name of the girl’s life they ruined, it’s on the second page, along with the sum of money they used to pay her off. Hefty amount, but what did the murder of your soul cost these days?

  And then I see the words that make my blood boil, my hair stand on end.

  “Will have no further contact with alleged perpetrators of incident, the three males of Keil House.”

  Thirty-Two

  Colton

  I’m just leaving my two o’clock lecture on macroeconomics, that I tuned out the minute it started and instead read sports stories on my phone, when Eloise texts that she is coming over.

  I crack open two beers from my fridge, and it may be a Wednesday afternoon, but who cares? We’re in college, and I’ll only get to act this way for another few months. Yes, most professional basketball players live it up when they make it big, going out and partying like the world might end tomorrow. But for me, my pro contract will be my livelihood, my family’s lifeblood. I can’t squander that,
and so all of my focus will go into being the absolute best, most dedicated player I can be.

  I hear the clack of Eloise’s boots up the hall before she knocks on my open door, which is odd. But I don’t turn, instead picking up our beers.

  “Now that the season is over, I think I’d like to just stay in bed with you for about four weeks.” I clink the beers together in my hands, thinking of all the ways I can take advantage of her body in that time.

  “Tell me this wasn’t you.” Eloise thrusts a stack of papers in my face, her high cheekbones flushed and her eyes red-rimmed.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” Sitting up, all of my senses go on alert. I want to wrap my arms around her, or pound someone’s face in. Whoever or whatever it was that made that look appear on her face.

  “Did you … oh God, were you involved with this?” Her voice is practically manic.

  I get up from where I’m lounged on my bed, looking over the document Eloise threw at me.

  I see the words non-disclosure, some kind of settlement amount, Charter, Keil, and …

  “Rape? What the fuck is this?” My eyes shoot up to meet her radiant blue ones, now watery with tears.

  “You tell me. I’ve heard the rumors, I’ve been searching to see if they’re true, then I find this.” My girl points an accusatory finger at me.

  Trying to calm my nerves, I count to five in my head. I read somewhere that this simple trick can negate almost any argument, and I’m trying not to overreact. I can tell that Eloise is on the brink of hysteria, and I need one of us to have a level head here.

  “Okay, baby, I don’t know what’s going on. I have no idea what this is … or who—”

  I cut myself off, seeing the name on the second page of this stack of papers that she’s brought here. Julia Henley … why did that sound familiar? I could have sworn that I’d heard some of the guys talking about her last semester, but this …

  “Are you saying that this is some kind of … hush document?”

  She throws her hands up. “I don’t know, Colton, you tell me! Apparently, a bunch of guys in your fraternity raped someone and had those conniving girls over at Charter House cover it up!”

  I move to my door, slamming it a little too hard. “You have to keep your voice down.”

  “Why, so you can shut me up too!?” She’s delirious, not thinking clearly.

  “Come sit down, please.” I take her hands, leading her to the bed. “You have to believe me, this is me. You and me, no one else. I have no idea what this is. How did you find this? Is this the thing … tell me you haven’t been looking for this?”

  All of her past words about Gretchen, about Charter, about how messed up some of the social club rules were … it all made sense now.

  Eloise blows out a breath, and I can tell her hysteria is crashing. She looks exhausted. “When I first got an invitation to pledge for Charter, I was curious. Hell, I come from a world of back door clubs and debauchery. I thought it would be a fun little distraction during my semester as an American. But as I got further into the tasks, got to know the true colors of the girls in charge … it all just put a bad taste in my mouth. And then Blair, the girl in my major, told me a story about some assault that the girls covered up. How they put her in that room, how the whispers around campus retold it, how the poor soul had to leave school after her life was completely shattered. I knew I couldn’t let them get away with something like that again … even if it was none of my business. I don’t put up with rubbish like that, Colton. And so, if you knew about this at all, you better tell me now. Those guys who raped her, they were from your house.”

  My head swims with confusion and rage. “Of course I didn’t know, this is all news to me. Horrible, tragic news. You think I would sit by while someone, people I knew, did this to an innocent girl? This is sick, Eloise.”

  Her expression turns from mild distrust to one of relief in seconds. “I’m sorry … I’m so sorry, Colton. I just … I’ve been around high-powered people before. People who could bring the entire republic or society down on everyone’s heads. But this, this is outrageous. Disgusting.”

  I pull her into a hug, shock still coursing through me. It washes over me, who could have done this in my circle of friends?

  “Let me read this again, okay?” I whisper, tucking her into me as I pick up the pages.

  Reading through the detailed agreement, I grow sicker by the second. Multiple men, forcing themselves on an innocent pledge who was put in that room by the Charter girls. They put her up to it, and then shamed her when she tried to get help after having the most intimate of acts taken from her and turned into a heinous incident.

  “We have to show someone, Colton. This can’t stay buried.”

  Why did it always feel like as soon as I took one weight off my shoulders, another six were added on? When did it end?

  I sigh, knowing she’s right. “I know we do. Just … give me some time to sniff around here. See if I can unearth anything else. These are big accusations … ones that will bring even the college toppling down.”

  She nods into my chest, a sniffle escaping. My arms wrap around her tighter, a shiver moving up my spine as I imagine anything remotely similar happening to her, a Charter pledge herself.

  Someone is going to pay for this.

  Thirty-Three

  Colton

  If nothing else, Vermontians love their festivals. And the college kids in this college town of Thistle especially; give them any reason to day drink and buy material goods and they’re sold.

  I have to say, Chili and Cheese Fest is one of my favorites out of all of these bullshit “holidays.” Because … well, chili is delicious and so is cheese.

  Three of the main downtown streets have been cordoned off, tents and people filling the roads as they mill about, looking at and buying from all of the vendors who’ve flocked to display their treasures at the festival.

  “This is so … pedestrian. And I bloody love it!” Eloise spoons another mouthful of chili past her lips, examining her scorecard as she goes.

  She’s having way too much fun with this contest.

  “You are going to turn into chili.” I chuckle, trying the next sample for myself.

  Her face is utterly serious. “This is a competition, love. We have to judge all of them, and fairly. How else will they know who has the most delicious bowl?”

  She tips her chin at me like she’s just served me knowledge on how this festival works. “Yes, ma’am. Then we will stuff ourselves until we turn into ground beef and tomatoes.”

  “And beer cheese. I mean, who knew there was such a thing, or that it was so delicious.” Her enthusiastic grin mirrors my smile.

  I love watching her chow down on American food, and corrupting her elegant palette with things like beer cheese.

  “Should I get you your own tent, you could make your own chili. Or beer cheese. I could lay naked on the display table—”

  She slaps her hand over my mouth. “Hush, love, you’re going to get all of the ladies in this crowd too excited. And I don’t cook in tents. No offense.”

  No, she wouldn’t, would she. “You still haven’t cooked for me, Miss Five-Star.”

  “I’m not sure if you’ve earned it yet.” Her smile is devilish.

  “Oh, I think I have. But if you need more convincing.”

  So many things occupy my brain these days that it feels like it might explode. It’s funny, I thought I had so many problems before Eloise came into my life. But she’s opened up a whole new can of worms, not that I’d have it any other way.

  First there is the Mac thing, which I know to be resolved but I’m still always cautious. It could come out to bite me in the ass at any moment. There are still hairs on my neck that stand up whenever someone mentions one of our losses during the season, and we are now champions.

  Then there is the rape cover up. Even thinking the words makes bile rise in my throat. I’m still trying to piece it together, wrap my mind around it, and get some
intel. Eloise wants to move now, expose it all, but I keep pushing her off, needing more time before I bring the boys who have been my family tumbling to the ground.

  And lastly, but most importantly and at the forefront of my mind, is Eloise leaving. And the fact that she hasn’t told me she loves me yet. I keep holding my breath, thinking she’ll spill the words in the middle of an orgasm, or as we fall asleep at night. Or maybe as we drive out into the night after dinner, the open winding roads of Thistle threatening to bring the romantic out in her.

  But she hasn’t yet, and I can’t deny the itch in me, the need for her to affirm that she has the same feelings.

  We wander into a tent with handmade jewelry, and of course my girl is in heaven. So far, she’s bought a soy candle handcrafted by a local artisan, some organic soaps, a knitted scarf and some other items I can’t remember.

  She fingers a bunch of necklaces, slowly making her way through the booth and chatting with the owner about how she started her business. I spot a particular necklace that catches my eye.

  It’s a small charm on a thin silver chain, the necklace longer than normal. The sparkle of the charm is what draws me toward it, but when I finally get up close, I know I have to get it for her. The most delicate snowflake dangles off the middle of the chain, white and silver crystal intertwined. It’s small, but so elegant that it reminds me of Eloise automatically.