Riot Rules

by Callie Hart

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  I force a smile, looping my arm through hers. We’re nearly at the register now. I’ve barely said more than two words since we left the academy. Poor Pres has been talking to herself for the past hour and a half, and it dawns on me that I’m being a really shitty friend. “I’m sorry, babe. Go on. What were you going to say?”

  “Well. Everything’s been happening behind closed doors. It always does here. But…don’t you think Wren seems different? Do you think maybe…that it’s possible for the Riot House boys to change?”

  Oh, Presley. Sweet girl. It’s pretty obvious why she’s asking this. She wants to believe that it’s possible, because it gives her something to hope for. If Wren Jacobi, the most fucked up Riot House boy of all, can reform and become a good person, then what’s stopping Pax from doing the same? I squeeze her arm, resting my head on her shoulder. “Sorry, babe. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but…no. I don’t think that any of them can change. I think it’s only a matter of time before Wren does something to hurt Elodie. All we can do now is be there for her when it happens.” I hate this jaded, miserable thing that I’ve become. I hate crushing Presley’s hope. She’s forgotten all about how badly I was crushed, though. I believed Dash had changed and look where that got me. I couldn’t bare it if Pres got her heart broken, too. She’s not like me or Elodie. We’re made from sterner stuff. Elodie will survive if and when Wren lets her down, just like I did, but Presley’s sensitive. Her skin’s not as thick as it would need to be if she wanted to tangle with Pax. Fuck, her skin could be made out of Kevlar and she still wouldn’t be tough enough—

  “Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Presley whispers quietly.

  “Hmm?”

  “The last time we went to a Riot House party, we were with Mara. I know…” Pres sighs heavily. “She wasn’t the best friend a person could hope for, but I still loved having her around most of the time. I still miss her.”

  I sigh, too, mirroring Presley’s melancholy. “I know, babe. I understand. I really miss her, too.”

  I make my excuses and head to the party before Presley, knowing that she’ll be safe enough walking down with Elodie in an hour or so. I do not want to enter Riot House alone, but I don’t really have much of a choice if I want to find Wren and speak to him before Elodie arrives. When I reach the house, I realize that my plan isn’t going to work out anyway, because the place is bumping and there are so many Wolf Hall students already here, jostling for space on the house’s ground floor. I’ll be lucky if I can even find Wren before Elodie shows up, let alone have a conversation with him.

  And naturally, because the universe is still punishing me for being a naïve little fool last year, the first person I bump into is Dash. He’s wearing a plain black button-down shirt and grey pants. My heart skips several beats and takes a nosedive off a cliff when I set eyes on him. He looks fucking amazing.

  He stiffens when he sees me, standing a little taller, lowering the bottle of bourbon he was trying to open to his side. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

  “Because you warned me not to? That was the perfect way to guarantee I would come.”

  His mouth twitches. He almost smiles. “You always were very stubborn, weren’t you?”

  “And you always were fond of drinking away your problems, weren’t you?” I never used to be like this. Mean. Angry. This is what Dash turned me into. I know I’m being a bitch, and the words I lashed at him aren’t really true. Dash used to drink before he and I were a thing. He used to drink a lot, and there was an implication of heavy drug use, too, but that all changed when we began seeing each other. He came to me every night, and he was sober as a judge the entire time. No alcohol. No drugs. And loathe as I am to admit it, I’ve watched him plenty since we broke up. He never drinks at the academy anymore. I don’t know what he does in the privacy of his own room, but I doubt he’s drinking there, either. His eyes are always clear. Whenever Wren and Pax seem dusty from their midnight misadventures, Dash always seems as though he’s mentally sharp and quietly ready for anything.

  He does smile now, very sadly, as he looks down at the bourbon. “It’s not for me. It’s for the punch. I ordered some fucking vol-au-vents and finger food. I just want to get this whole thing over with. Figured making some cocktails would keep me busy.”

  The way he talks, you’d think he was suffering, not me. It’s been months and months since the incident at the observatory. I’m sure he’s been fucking around and enjoying himself ever since then. He’s probably slept with more girls since last July than the total amount of men I will sleep with in my entire lifetime. He can tell me that he cared about me and tell me he still loves me as much as he likes, but it’s all lies, isn’t it? Just another stage in this hurtful game he’s playing with me. I hate that my chest constricts when I see the expression on his face, though—as if he’s in pain.

  “Cool. Well I hope that works out for you. Have you seen Wren?”

  He frowns. “Wren?”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “What about?”

  “You don’t get to know my business anymore, Dash. It’s personal. Have you seen him or not?” My lungs feel like they’re full of broken glass. I hate myself. Don’t even recognize myself. I have no clue who this cold, hateful monster is or where she came from, but I can’t rein her in when I’m around this guy. I wish she’d go away, but I’m also scared for her to leave. She’s been the only thing keeping me together for a long time now.

  “He’s in the kitchen.”

  “Great.” I don’t thank him. I show him my back and squeeze my way through the crowd, not giving him a chance to say anything further. I find Wren standing in front of the fridge in the kitchen, right where Dash said he’d be. He slams the door closed and goes rigid when he sees me standing there. I thought he’d roll his eyes or something, but the frustrated, disinterested reaction doesn’t come.

  “Mendoza.” He gives me a tight smile. “So glad you could join us.”

  “You really suck at lying. You should probably hang out with your sister some more. Or Dash. They’re both excellent liars. I’m sure you could learn a thing or two.”

  Wren unscrews the lid off a jar of tiny pickles he’s holding and pops one into his mouth. “First of all, I am the most accomplished liar this side of Boston. Second, Dash is a fucking horrible liar. When he lied about hooking up with you, for instance. Saw through that bullshit a mile away.” He holds the open jar out to me. “Cornichon?”

  I bat it away. “No, I do not want a cor—oh my god. Urgh. I want to talk to you about Elodie.”

  “I bet you do.” He walks away from me, sauntering toward the living room.

  “She had a difficult past, Wren. She’s not some plaything for you to use and discard when you’re—”

  He stops abruptly, and I almost walk into his back. His eyes are like polished jade, sparking with anger when he turns on me. “Who said I was playing? Who said I was ever going to discard her? And don’t you think I know far more about her difficult past than you do?”

  “So you’re not going to make her fall in love with you and then break her heart? That’s not the whole point of this?”

  “No. It might have been at the beginning, but…” He slams the jar down on the sideboard, growling angrily at the back of his throat. “I didn’t make her fall in love with me. I fell in love with her, okay. And I’m doing my best to make sure I don’t lose her, but thanks to you and that fucking diary—”

  “The diary?”

  “Yeah, the one you and Dash failed to burn properly at the gazebo. We were meeting there that night. Elodie found it in the grate and she read the whole damn thing. And now she thinks I had something to do with Mara’s disappearance. So, yeah. Thanks for that.”

  “How was I supposed to know it was intact?”

  “Look. Stay out of shit that doesn’t concern you, Mendoza. If you see Elodie tonight, just make sure she
doesn’t get caught up in the game, okay? I wanted to get as many people out of the house as I could, so things wouldn’t get crazy. I—”

  “Oh hey, look! There she is! Carina!”

  Wren and I look to the front door in unison, and…oh, fuck. Well, isn’t this just perfect? Right on time. Elodie’s just arrived with Pres, and, whoa…I hardly recognize her. I bought her some hair dye weeks ago, when she mentioned she hated being blonde, but I figured she’d tossed it out when she didn’t use it right away. Well, she’s used it now. In the dim lighting of the entryway, her long, thick waves look almost black. She’s absolutely stunning in the snow-white, flowing dress she’s wearing. Its bodice sparks and catches the light, studded with thousands of tiny little crystals—she looks like something out of a fairytale. When she catches Wren and me standing together, her face darkens like we’re both the last people on Earth that she wants to see. Pres waves and starts to head toward us, but Elodie turns and bolts in the opposite direct.

  “Goddamnit.”

  “Carrie, let me—”

  Yeah. Like I’m going to listen to Wren. I cut through the crowd, trying to peer over the tops of people’s heads, but Elodie has disappeared.

  Five minutes pass, and I curse and grumble, bullying my way back and forth across the house, searching everywhere I can think of for her. Another ten minutes. Where the hell did she go? Did she just leave?

  “WREN JACOBI! Where the fuck are you!”

  Oh great. Dressed in a Clockwork Orange costume with a bowler hat jammed on his shaved head, Pax stands at the foot of the stairs, with Dash standing beside him. Déjà vu hits hard, dragging me back to the night of the last party, when Wren announced the stupid challenge that he had everyone participate in. Looks like there’s going to be another one this time. They can’t be stupid enough to have bought more coke, though. They can not have been that stupid.

  “WREEEEEEEENNNNN! You’ve got three seconds, asshole! Show your ugly face!”

  Wren appears a moment later, angrily moving through the press of bodies to the staircase, and Elodie is not that far behind him. He must have found her before I could.

  Dash actually looks relieved, like he thought Wren might have bailed from the party altogether. “Students of Wolf Hall! The moment you’ve all been waiting for has arrived!”

  Pax grins when he adds, “Ladies and gentlemen, may we present to you, the master of the hunt!”

  The other partygoers all cheer and shout at the top of their lungs. Their excitement makes it really difficult to make my way across the packed space to get to Elodie. When I reach her, I’m nervous as hell. She found the journal, after I explicitly told her I was going to give it to the police. She’s mad at me, and she has every reason to be. I don’t blame her one bit. “Elodie, can I speak to you outside for a moment?”

  She looks up at me, her expression ice-cold. “No.”

  “Elle, please—”

  Wren begins to speak. “You all know the deal. As master of the hunt, I call the shots tonight. And as always, we have a Riot House game that will either elevate your social standing for the rest of the academic year or leave you all in the gutter. Your fate rests entirely in your hands! Tonight’s game has been crafted to root out the smartest amongst you. In the forest surrounding Riot House, there are a series of red flags like this one.” He pauses, holding up a length of red fabric in the air for everybody to see. “There are a hundred of them hidden within a two-mile radius. Collect as many of them as you can and bring them back here to base. The person who manages to bring back the most flags wins a room in Riot House for the remainder of the school year, along with a fifty-thousand-dollar check with their name on it.”

  What?

  Holy hell breaks loose. Everywhere I look, people trade stunned glances and excited words. The winner will move into Riot House? And fifty grand?

  I guess the money Wren saved on copious amounts of narcotics had to go somewhere. There is no way folks weren’t going to participate in the game with that kind of money up for grabs, but moving into the house? That’s the real prize here and everyone knows it.

  “The person who collects the fewest flags, however…”

  Everyone falls silent.

  “…will become a Riot House shit-kicker until graduation. You’ll cook for us. You’ll clean for us. You’ll be the lowest of the low. The choice is yours. Live here, unchecked, unbound by pointless, stupid rules, or become our whipping boy. You don’t have to play, but if you do…there will be consequences.”

  “Well that’s new. Last year…” Wait. I should not finish the sentence.

  Elodie regards me sharply, though. “Last year what, Carina? What was the game last year?”

  “Last year, everyone had to fuck as many people as they could before the end of the party. These things always involve sex. This is the first time…”

  Disappointment chases across Elodie’s face. She turns away from me, and my heart plummets in my chest. This is such a fucking mess. I have no idea how I’m going to fix any of this, but I have to try.

  “You have until three a.m.,” Wren shouts. “Until then, happy hunting. And be warned. There will be wolves out tonight, hunting down their prey.” He picks something up from his feet—a lifelike wolf’s head, the creature’s lips peeled back in a snarl, its muzzle creased, its awful, blood-coated teeth exposed. It’s so convincing that for a second I think it’s the mutilated head of one of the animals I saw running down by the cemetery last year. But then Wren pulls it onto his head, the latex stretching over his head, and no…it’s just a mask.

  “God. Looks like I was wrong,” I say, cringing.

  “Wrong about what?”

  Wolf Hall’s a private academy, but this is still high school. There’s a food chain here, just like everywhere else, and we’re at the top of it. We are a predatory species, Carrie, and you are our prey. We pursue you. We fuck you. We move on. Those are the terms in which we think of the female student body here. You’d do well to remember that.

  “When a Riot House boy talks about hunting down prey, Elodie, they’re most definitely talking about sex,” I say.

  “Lord, I can’t deal with this shit anymore. I’m out. I’m going back to my room.” Elodie bolts for the door, but unfortunately everyone else is trying to leave at the same time, to head out into the night, to play the game, and we’re separated in the crush. It’s a miracle, but I locate her just as she’s turning right out of Riot House’s dirt driveway, onto the road that leads back up to the academy.

  “Slow down, Elodie.”

  She doesn’t. I can tell she needs some time to calm down, so I give it to her, keeping quiet for as long as I can, but after a while I have to say something. I can’t keep staring at her back, stumbling after her in the dark, waiting for her to speak. “I can keep up with you, y’know. Doesn’t matter how fast you walk. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I really wish you would.”

  “Elodie, come on, now. Please. You’re not being very fair.”

  “FAIR?” She spins around so fast she nearly loses her balance. “You don’t get to pull the ‘you’re not being very fair’ card on me, Carina Mendoza. I thought you were my friend, and you’ve been hiding things and keeping secrets from me this entire time. You swore you were gonna take that journal to the cops. You didn’t even tell me anything about Mara in the first place. You said you weren’t gonna come here tonight. And, surprise surprise, what did you do?”

  Alright. She has a point there. I shouldn’t have accused her of being unfair. She’s hardly innocent here, though. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing Wren.”

  Remorse flickers in her eyes. “Yeah. I know that was shitty, but I didn’t feel like I could tell you. There was no reason for you to keep me in the dark about Mara, though, was there?”

  I’m about to explain the situation with Fitz, composing what I’ll say in my head as best I can, when out of nowhere, a bloodcurdling screech tears through the night air.

 
Elodie wraps her arms around herself, shivering. “Why would anyone run out there into the forest with no fucking lights. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Cabin fever’s a very real thing, Elle. You’ve only been at the academy for a couple of months but try living here for a few years. You start to go a little stir crazy. You don’t get it. If you’re a student at Wolf Hall, the guys from Riot House are a big deal. They set the tone for the entire year. If you’re a guy, you wanna be them. If you’re a girl, you wanna date them. That’s the way it’s always been. So when they pull stupid shit like this, everyone’s always tripping over themselves to join in.”

  “Is that what happened the night Mara disappeared? She was trying to join in whatever dumb game they were playing?”

  “Yes.” In a way, that’s exactly what Mara was doing. Buying into Riot House bullshit. Definitely caught up in Riot House bullshit.

  “So what? I’m supposed to just traipse right on in there and make a fool of myself like everyone else? Is that what they expect?”

  “Pax and Dashiell, probably. Not Wren. I was talking to him before you showed up and he wanted you as far away from this thing as possible, Elle. It’s good that you’re going back to the academy, okay?”

  It would be best for us both if we went back to the academy. The thought of going back to Riot House and running into Dash again is so painful that I don’t even know what I’ll do if I have to go back there and bear it. I won’t be able to, and that’s a fact.

  From the way Elodie looks at me, hard and defiant, I get the feeling I’m not going to like the next words that come out of her mouth. “You know what, Carina? Maybe I will just join in this stupid game. That way there won’t be any more secrets. I’ll know if he sleeps with half the academy. I’ll know exactly what went on, and no one will be able to hide anything from me anymore!”