Chapter 32
ELLE
The week after midterms, a party’s held in the basement of the Apollodorus, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I agree to meet Lexington and company there.
Aurora refuses to join, citing the fact that the basement is off-limits and in general creepy, though I hear the click of a phone call when I slip out of our dorm room anyway and the familiar rasp of a certain traumatized musician.
Neither of them are as slick as they think. Especially not when Foxe texts me constant strings about how in love with Aurora he is, though I don’t need the news alert. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers.
I used to be so envious that Asher had Lucy and Foxe had Aurora growing up. No matter how many friends I accumulated or how much attention I sought, it never felt like any of them were my person. Never felt like they understood me implicitly.
Maybe I’m still a little jealous, I don’t know. Having someone look at me like I personally put all the stars in the sky wouldn’t be terrible, I don’t think.
Goose bumps line my skin as I enter the Apollodorus, and regret constricts my throat, but I push on. The upstairs is quiet, though there’s an air about the lobby that feels tense and rife with anticipation.
Better than a quarry party at least. My history with those is what makes me slightly hesitant about attending tonight, but I push on anyway, needing to be among people. My siblings are drained by company, but I’ve always felt more alive in a crowd.
I spot Lexington and Percy arguing in line for the bathroom and head their way.
“Ah, a fellow founding family member finally makes her appearance!” Lexington cheers, instantly throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I was wondering how long it’d take for you to come to a Curator party.”
“Wait, what? This is a Curator function?”
“Nobody actually knows who’s throwing it,” Percy answers.
“Visio Aternae hosts galas, not parties. Daughters of Persephone soirees don’t send out invites, though, and Death’s Teeth usually puts theirs on in the forest.” He pauses, squinting at me with his head tilted.
“The Curators are just the most logical conclusion.”
“So we’re here, but we don’t know why?”
“We know why,” Lexington says, turning me toward the basement stairwell, where a girl in a Ghostface mask stands guard, stamping wrists as people pass through. “It’s to have fun, m’lady.”
I let the girl stamp my hand even as unease swashes in my stomach, and I don’t protest when they lead me down the stairs. The levels twist as we navigate them in the near dark, and my anxiety ratchets higher and higher the lower we go.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Percy whispers fiercely as we come to a stop three floors beneath the main lobby. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”
“That’s because you pregamed on an empty stomach, you dumb fuck,” Lexington says, shoving his shoulder. “Which I warned you against.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Percy replies, leaning against me. “You also made me pregame alone, so your point is moot. I bet Elle wouldn’t let her friend drink by himself.”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” I admit. “One bad party in high school will ruin it for life.”
Lexington grunts. “And one good party in college will make you think you’re fucking Hemingway. Perce did not used to be like this.”
“I’m not like anything!” he says, stomping his foot as we wait for the door to open.
It takes a moment, but then a masculine figure in a lacy maid costume appears, wearing a nondescript white mask that covers most of their face.
They glance at our wrists and then usher us inside, slamming the door behind us. The ballroom is packed, with vast crowds mingling throughout.
Soft piano music drifts from speakers mounted in ceiling corners, and as I look around at the vast ballroom-style floor, I note that all the attendees seem to be similarly dressed—some in masquerade garb and other scanty outfits as they mingle among themselves.
Well, some of them are just mingling. Others are engaging in varying degrees of lewd activities, and my throat grows tight as the sounds of slick flesh meeting and moans float around us.
“What the hell kind of party is this?” I mutter.
Lexington snorts, snatching several champagne flutes from a passing serving tray. “I don’t know, but it looks like fun.”
“Are you sure we should be here?”
“The Delphic Pages mentioned a rager open to the entire campus, so I don’t see why not.”
“Avernia’s freaky as hell,” Percy says, letting out a low whistle as he takes in a foursome, his eyes riveted to the languid motions as three men thrust in and out of a naked woman at the center of the room.
“Remember what I told you, Elle? Some of the parties here get raunchy, especially ones thrown by Death’s Teeth.
Rumor has it that in order to be initiated, you have to fuck every member and even kill someone at the very end. ”
“Jesus Christ,” Lexington mutters. “Now I’m not sure whose party this is.”
I hesitate, discomfort crawling across my skin. “Do we have to participate?”
A short patron wearing a mask split in half vertically pauses as they walk by. “Nope, but feel free to watch. They love to put on a show.”
Percy grins, handing me a glass while he drinks his. “See? It’s like a secret sex club or something.”
“Not much of a secret considering how many people are here.” Lexington glances at the champagne warily but decides to swallow it anyway. “Fine, fine. We can stay, but only because I promised to help you forget about the woman who broke your heart earlier.”
Grinning wide, Percy claps him on the shoulder, then moves away from us, drifting closer to the foursome.
I look over at Lexington. “Who broke his heart?”
“Sabrina.”
“Really? I didn’t know he was that into her. I kind of thought he was just teasing.”
“Oh, he’s been nipping at her heels since kindergarten.” Lexington smiles, watching his friend from afar. “It’d be cute if she wasn’t such a dick to him all the time.”
“Maybe he likes that she’s mean.”
Lexington shakes his head, something flashing in his gaze that almost feels like longing in its own right.
“Nah,” he says. “Perce is a soft soul. He just doesn’t know it could be any other way.”
Something heavy settles between us, but before I have the chance to ask what he means, Percy wanders back over, throwing his hands in the air.
“‘I don’t want realism. I want magic!’” he squeals, and the piano music grows louder, as if to drown him out.
“Tennessee Williams,” I say without thinking.
“I knew it!” he shouts, pointing at me. “I knew you’d know. Didn’t I tell you, Lex? I said—I bet Elle can name any playwright with a random quote if they’re popular enough.” He beams at me, ruffling my hair. “You’re so smart, Elle. How’d you get to be so smart?”
“Lack of things to do growing up,” I say, flipping some hair over my shoulder. “Made me develop niche interests.”
“You get it,” he says, clutching his chest where his heart is.
“I do,” I agree.
“Jesus, don’t encourage him, Elle.”
Laughing, I nudge Lexington with my shoulder. “You’re gonna hate to learn that once I get a beer or two in me, I’ve been known to mouth off about the genius of Machinal. Real vibe ruiner, that one.”
“God, you would be perfect for Professor Dupont,” someone says from behind me. “It’s too bad he seems to hate you.”
I turn, coming face-to-face with Sabrina. Like us, she’s not wearing a mask, and there are so few of us down here with bare faces that I can’t shake the odd feeling gripping me.
Percy gives her a dirty look and then saunters off, presumably in search of more sex-capades to leer at.
I lift my chin, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ve already told you I’m not interested in him, so what do I care if he hates me or not?”
Her mouth turns up at the corners. “You think I don’t notice the way you look at him in class?”
“Sounds like you spend too much time paying attention to me.” I slink closer to her, dropping my gaze over the tartan pants she has on and the oversize sweater that’s falling off one shoulder.
Reaching up, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers graze the outer shell.
“Are you sure you’re not trying to tell me something? ”
She glares. “You wish, has-been. I’m merely pointing out that your crush on our professor is wasted.”
“Because you want me instead.” Sliding my hand from her ear to her neck, I lean in even more—enough to taste her bubblegum breath. Our lips are centimeters apart. “It’s okay to admit it, you know. I don’t bite that hard.”
Her eyes drop to my mouth and then back up.
She doesn’t immediately respond, which fills my insides with liquid heat. This close, I see the beauty mark beneath her left eye.
Impulsive, reckless behavior like this is what keeps getting me into trouble, but a point needs to be made here. I’m tired of doing this back-and-forth where we don’t get along, and she needs to own up to her feelings if that’s what they are.
I can tell when a person is attracted to me, and she’s been giving that vibe since the first day of class. However badly she might want Sutton, when she doesn’t pull out of my grip, it becomes clear she has other desires as well.
My gaze darts around the room to see if Percy’s come back. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, nor am I actually interested in pursuing Sabrina, but I do want to disarm her.
This is the quickest way I know how.
A tiny whimper comes from Sabrina’s throat, and I smother a full-blown grin. Her eyes have grown pleading, desperate as I press closer, our chests rubbing together when my hand threads through her hair.
I grip her roots tight, angling her head where I want it.
“Apologize,” I tell her softly. My head is swimming a bit, the general air of sex around us making me hot and dizzy.
Lexington is staring, and we’ve gained a bit of an audience, but it doesn’t stop me.
Irritation boils in my chest, an accumulation of every emotion I’ve had since coming to this town maybe. Or maybe it’s the heady rush of power as this girl bends to my will.
My lips are close. Her breath comes from her mouth in harsh, sporadic bursts.
She edges up, seeking more.
I smirk, tightening my hold on her hair.
“Say you’re sorry, sweetheart,” I whisper.
“I’m sorry,” she replies instantly, eyes wide, like she wasn’t actually planning to say anything at all.
Just before an actual kiss can happen, I withdraw with a satisfied grin.
“Now,” I say, ignoring the stares we’re getting as I cup her cheeks. “Friends?”
Sabrina lets out a little laugh. “You know, historically, the people vying for a lead in a play couldn’t be friends. We’d be rivals.”
Ugh, like I need the reminder about Othello. “But wouldn’t it be so much more fun to not hate each other?”
To be good rivals, you have to be working toward the same goal. Sabrina wants to be the lead to impress Sutton, which tells me her heart isn’t actually in it.
I want to be the lead to prove to myself I can do it, even after everything. That selling out didn’t mean relinquishing my passion and talent.
We’re not really the same.
Or maybe we are, and I’m oversimplifying things to make them easier to digest. I suppose that’s possible too, given my own history.
“All right,” she says finally. She extends a hand, cocking a thin brow. “Friends then.”
When I take her fingers, she gives them a squeeze I feel in my stomach. Then we turn back to Lexington, who gives me a strange look.
“Do you almost kiss all your friends?” Lexington asks, handing me a beer.
“Just the ones I find attractive…sometimes.” I glance at him and Percy as the latter returns with more drinks, then take a sip of my original champagne. “Don’t worry. You two are safe.”