Chapter Twenty-Five
I…don’t know what just happened.
That feeling, like an eclipse of sheer sensation, flooded me with heat. I’ve never come close to anything like it. The purest euphoria, absolute bliss like I never could have imagined. Even now, with my fingers entwined with his as he leads me towards the girls’ towers, the memory is escaping me like a fading dream. It’s so much, so passionately intense, that I can’t recreate it in my mind.
Sex… is this what that’s all about?
I mean, I know what sex is. Sort of. It’s not hard to understand on an anatomical level. I understand that it’s connected with attraction, but the act itself always seemed like it’d be a little uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable, actually. I could never imagine myself liking someone enough to trust them with a thing like that.
But we didn’t have sex. We didn’t even take our clothes off.
Would I have let us do so, if we’d gotten the chance?
I still don’t know if I want that… but I know I want something. I want that feeling again. Need it, in fact, with an intensity that alarms me—and I can’t bear the thought of it coming from anyone but him.
Ryker stops short and turns to face me, drawing me closer. My heart leaps against the prison of my ribcage. Maybe he’s changed his mind; maybe?—
“See you again soon?” he murmurs.
Oh. Nope, we’ve just arrived at the dorm already. The whole walk passed in a blur, meaning that I wasted my last few minutes with him.
I won’t waste my goodbye, though.
“Yes—please,” I whisper, closing the distance between us with a quick couple of steps. I can’t read the expression on his shadow-draped face, but he doesn’t pull away. That’s a good sign. “Thank you for… everything. Seriously, I… tonight was amazing.”
I lift onto my tiptoes, leaning in—one more kiss won’t be enough, but it’ll be something.
His lips graze mine lightly at first, gentle enough to flood me with chills—then he presses harder, tugging at my lower lip, engulfing me in his fiery touch. I grasp at his jacket, pulling as close as I can.
“Fuck,” he growls into my mouth, “you drive me fucking crazy.”
He breaks away, his breaths coming short and fast, cobalt eyes ablaze with excitement.
“Keep that up,” he warns me, “and I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
“What if I don’t want you to hold back?”
“Patience, dove,” he replies, fingertips grazing the underside of my chin. “It’ll be worth the wait. I’ll see you around, Lia.”
“Yeah… see you.”
On the way back to my room, I don’t look out any windows. If I don’t see for myself that he’s gone, I can pretend that he’s still there. Watching me… waiting for however long it takes for us to be together again.
“We did it!” Harper yelps.
Several of the other girls in the common room whip their heads around to scowl. “It’s quiet study hours, freshie,” one of them grumbles.
“Sorry… sorry!” She lowers her voice and leans in close to me, a wicked smile brightening her freckled face. “Lia, we fucking did it. Check your email.”
It takes me a few moments to figure out how to get to the email app on my iPad.
“Which thing do I tap again?”
“Come on, come on—” She hops eagerly in place, making no effort to disguise her excitement. “Email, mail; it’s the envelope?—”
Oh. Of course. The envelope icon.
It’s not hard for me to guess what’s got her so riled up… but when I reach my inbox, it’s empty.
“Try refreshing?” she suggests.
“What?”
“Like, drag it down—here, let me do it.”
She swipes at my tablet a couple of times. A spinning circle appears at the top of the screen, then disappears. No change.
“That’s not… wait, wait, let me check Insta. They’ve probably posted a list of new sisters…”
A hint of doubt begins to creep into her voice, matched by the sinking sensation in my chest. Seconds later, when the smile on her face vanishes entirely, I know exactly what it means.
“But that doesn’t make sense. They loved you. Remember how Marissa pulled you aside? And Rashel couldn’t get enough of you this morning.”
What with everything that happened last night, I can barely remember the alumni brunch. My recollections of this morning are a dreamlike mess—the banquet table at the Omega Phi house decked out in silver and glassware, a seemingly unending supply of fresh fruit and tea cakes, Rashel introducing me to a series of glamorously wealthy women who had previously graduated as OPs. It felt strange, but magical as well. A foreign place—but one where I could learn to belong.
Or not.
They’ve chosen her, but they haven’t chosen me.
Maybe it has something to do with what Marissa’s sister said to me the other day.
“This is bullshit,” she declares. “There’s no way they’d pick me and not you. There’s no way!”
“Give yourself some credit. You’re pretty charming.”
“Sure, I guess, but…” She tosses her phone onto the table in disgust. “Shit, Lia, I’m so sorry. I had no idea?—”
“It’s okay. Really.”
Weirdly enough, it is okay. I’m disappointed, of course, but after the euphoria of last night, I don’t think anything in the world could ruin my mood. Even the thought of tonight’s task—some kind of induction into a cult that may or may not be full of murderers—hardly casts a shadow over the afterglow of my time with Ryker.
“It’s not okay with me,” Harper declares. “In fact?—”
“Dude!” the same girl calls from across the room. “Quiet study hours!”
“Right.” Harper slams her book shut—best as I can tell, she’s read about two pages over the course of the afternoon that we’ve been seated here, having been so preoccupied with checking and rechecking her email for an OP invite. “Let’s get out of here, Lia.”
I gather my things and follow her out of the common room in silence. She continues to toss me worried glances until we’re halfway down the hall, more or less out of earshot of the others, at which point she bursts back into speech.
“It’s just totally unfair! And I feel like such a monumental asshole for assuming that you got in, but like, am I really crazy for that? Because it seems obvious to me. Hell, considering your fling with Ryker fucking Pendragon, I almost forgot that you aren’t already with the OPs.”
She doesn’t know the half of it. “Look, Harper—I’m going to head back upstairs, okay? I didn’t get a ton of sleep last night.”
“Oh… of course. I’m just gonna run to the library, let you have the room to yourself for a bit.”
Judging by the grave look in her eyes, she thinks that I want space to process my rejection from the sorority, maybe even shed a few tears. I’m not, but I don’t mind her assumption. Whatever guarantees me a bit of alone time to focus on my plan for tonight.
Does it hurt, knowing that I won’t be able to join the sisterhood? Kind of, I guess. But the Omega Phi dream has been Harper’s more than mine, anyway. Hopefully, she won’t lose interest in me once sorority events start up—because, aside from whatever might be happening between me and Ryker, she’s still the closest friend I’ve made here.
Our suite is empty, thankfully. I still make sure to close my bedroom door before I dare to take a look in my closet. I shove aside a row of plaid skirts, hangers rattling, and… there it is. Folded neatly on the small back shelf, with the mask sitting on top of it.
When I first read the phrase garments enclosed, I’m not sure what I was expecting. A robe, maybe—sweeping and hooded, like the one worn by the person who delivered the invitation. Sure enough, a cloak of soft black cloth was the first object in the box, but I couldn’t have anticipated what lay beneath it.
I lift the mask now, fingers poised delicately at its edges, and rotate it in careful slow motion. It’s simple but elegant, painted in softly glittering black, with red lace lining its borders. It’ll only cover the upper half of my face, but I think I’ll be okay—I’m posing as Angelica Alexander, whose features are similar enough to my own to avoid detection. At least, I hope so. Guess there’s no way to know for sure until tonight.
Midnight. Southern corner of the woods.
Part of me is afraid.
But another part—a stronger, surer part—has never been more ready.
I came to Crimson Elite because it was what my mother wished for me. A big step, for sure, and something that’s given me a sense of freedom and agency unlike anything else in the nearly two decades of my life. But still, at its core, my enrollment is something she wanted.
This is something I want.
Papa would lose his mind if he found out, naturally, but?—
Crap. Papa. I haven’t checked in since yesterday morning.
I stash the cloak and mask, close the closet door, and pull out my duffel from under the bed. All these secrets, layers upon layers. It’s exhausting, and I’m only digging myself deeper. But it’s what I need to do. Maybe someday, once I’ve figured this out and gotten justice for my mother, even Papa will understand.
For now, though, he’s still deeply paranoid, as evinced by the seven messages delivered in the last twenty-four hours.
Encrypted Number: Remember to carry your pepper spray.
Encrypted Number: Checking in.
Encrypted Number: Checking in. Respond please.
Encrypted Number: We talked about this. If you want to stay there, you are required to respond to all messages in a timely manner.
Encrypted Number: Zero communication overnight is unacceptable. I might need to reconsider your arrangement.
Encrypted Number: YOUNG LADY, RESPOND THIS INSTANT.
Encrypted Number: You have one hour to reply. You know what I’ll have to do otherwise.
“Oh, come on.” I type out a response as fast as possible. I meant to check in with him last night, but I could barely string two words together after everything with Ryker. And this morning, I was practically asleep on my feet when Harper shuffled me off to the Omega Phi house.
Me: I’m OK. Really busy with homework. Please don’t freak out. I love you. Everything is fine.
I can imagine him right now, watching the clock, pacing back and forth behind his wide mahogany desk with his hands clasped at the small of his back. Worrying; always worrying. It’s not what my mother would have wanted for him. Not that I’d ever dare to tell him something like that to his face.
After less than a minute, his response pops up on my screen.
Good. Check-ins are not optional. Punctuality is as important as education.
Right. Love you too, Papa.
I know that he does, in his own way. He also resents me because I remind him of my mother, but he has the decency not to say that to my face. He’d never do something to hurt me—not intentionally. Not like Ryker’s father—who, based on his terse words, is all too likely to be the culprit behind that black eye.
If I ever meet that man?—
No, no. I can’t start thinking like that. I’m not here to stir up trouble, and if I do, it’s all over. For me and for my mother… again.
I have to stay focused. On the society. On my objective.
On tonight.
Sage and Aimee announce around ten that they’re off to a SUC party, taking care to clarify that Harper and I aren’t invited—“Not that the OPs’ newest catch would ever think of attending such a lowly gathering,” Sage adds with an elaborate roll of her purple-winged eyes.
Harper gives me an apologetic half-smile as soon as the two sophomores are out the door. “So, not to be a total dick…”
“But you’re invited to something with Omega Phi.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone,” she insists. “I feel like shit about it. But if I skip out on this, they’re going to kick me out, and?—”
“You don’t need to make excuses. I want you to go. Enjoy yourself, please? For me?” I stretch my legs farther across the couch and give a hefty pat to the Greek textbook sitting in my lap. “Besides, I’ve got plenty to do.”
“Jesus, when don’t you? That Rowan lady must be a piece of work.”
“Well, daily practice is supposed to be the most important part of learning a language, right?”
“I guess. I wouldn’t know.” She frowns and crosses her arms, leaning against her door frame. “You promise you’re gonna be okay?”
“I swear it. Go ahead and get dressed, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I wait until the door shuts behind her, then let out a silent sigh of relief. This is going to be a lot easier than I thought. With my three roommates out until God knows when, it should be a cinch to sneak out in costume. I’ll have to be a bit more careful coming back, at whatever ridiculous hour that might be—but if they have returned at that point, they’ll likely be either drunk or asleep, which gives me a little bit more room for error.
Only a little bit, though. I need to remember that. The final line of the note is still burned into my mind: Tell a soul, and death will find you swiftly.
Upsetting my father is one thing, but getting myself murdered would definitely put a wrench in my plans.
Harper emerges an hour or so later, during which I’ve managed to read and reread the same paragraph about fifty times without retaining an ounce of information. She looks great, if a little nervous, in a royal blue jumpsuit that flatters her chest and a swatch of bright eyeshadow to match.
“Too much?” she asks, giving a little twirl.
“Of course not. You look amazing.”
She grimaces. “Easy for you to say. I mean—no offense or anything! It’s just that the OPs are, like, goddesses of this shit, so it’s impossible for any of us to be able to know how they’ll judge a look, but—ugh, I sound like such a bitch.”
“You sound fine,” I assure her, smiling. “You’re going to be great. Remember, they picked you because they liked you, right?”
“I mean… I guess, but?—”
“No buts. You deserve this, Harper. You really do.”
“…I hope so. God, I hope so.”
She fusses for a bit longer, re-applying lip gloss and fiddling with her hair, before finally taking a deep breath and swinging a small jeweled purse over her shoulder.
“Okay. I’ve got this, right, Lia?”
“Absolutely.”
“And if I screw up, you’ll still be my friend?”
“I’ll be your friend no matter what. Now go on, get out of here.” I playfully shoo at her with one hand. She grabs her purse strap like a soldier clutching a rifle, gives me a final terse nod, and practically marches out into the hallway.
The second that the door clicks shut, I’m on my feet.