Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Nyx
Hit Sale – Therapie TAXI, Roméo Elvis
"Nyx, have you met Achilles before?" Alex asks in such a sweet voice I want to take her in my arms.
"Briefly," I answer with a dry throat as I turn around.
I'm no small girl, but I still have to tilt my head back to face him. He doesn’t offer me anything other than his comment, and even that wasn't really aimed at me, just about me.
"Hi, Nyx. I'm Wren. We met before, but it was really quick," the guy next to him says politely, and I do remember him, but I didn’t remember his name. "I heard you're a musician. What instrument do you play?"
I feel my cheeks heat as my eyes flick to Achilles again. Can I even call myself a musician next to him? His piercing gray eyes stay glued to me, a smirk challenging me to call myself a violinist when I'm in the presence of the genius that is Achilles Duval.
"The violin," I rasp.
"Sweet," he says with a huge smile. "Same as Achilles, then." He slaps his friend's shoulder.
He's clearly trying to force civility out of him, but I couldn't make myself smaller if I tried.
"I mean," I squeak. "I wouldn't— I'm not at his level." God, when did I lose the ability to speak in front of people?
Achilles pouts slightly, his unrealistically red lips making him sexier than anyone I've ever seen.
He tilts his head as he puts a hand on my shoulder.
There's a smoking cigarette between his fingers, and the proximity to my face makes me cough.
For a second, I think he's going to offer me some reassuring words.
"No one's at my level."
My mouth drops open as he releases me to give Chris a drink he brought for him.
"Ignore him, Nyx," Peach chimes in. "He's a dick, and an arrogant one too." She shoos the guys with her hand. "Go pester some other people. We want to be just us girls."
That gets her a laugh from her friends, and Xi seems to hold Alex closer in return.
They exchange a few words, but I don't catch them because I'm too focused on Wren, who looks like such a nice guy, wrapping Peach's long hair around his fist and tugging until she's forced to look up at him from her tiny height. The way he captures her lips makes me turn away, and instead, I fall face-to-face with Achilles, who’s already looking at me.
He doesn't look away when I catch him. Doesn't budge. Doesn't even blink. No, his smirk widens as I feel my cheeks redden. And the more awkward I get, the more satisfied he appears.
"Do people on your side of town never make out, scholarship?"
I narrow my gaze at him, riled up by the nickname he chose for me. "Maybe we're not into PDA."
He observes me, moving half a step closer. "Hm, no. Looks more like you're desperate for that kind of kiss."
My eyes flick to his lips and away when I catch myself.
"I haven’t even had one drink yet. I'm far from kissing an entitled asshole tonight."
Licking his lips, he lowers his head slightly so he can look me straight in the eye. "I don't remember offering."
My eyes go as wide as saucers, heart tripping over itself. "I-I know," I rush out. "I have a boyfriend anyway."
Now that seems to take him by surprise. Probably because the only times I met him, I completely lost composure and looked like I would fall head over heels at his feet. But the surprise quickly turns into a glint of challenge in his eyes.
"You heard the girl." Peach's voice has a raspiness to it when she comes back to reality. She grabs my hand, pulling me away from her friend. "She's got a boyfriend. Sorry, oh, big musical prodigy. Go grab a groupie of yours tonight."
Despite Peach having told them to go away, their boyfriends don't go anywhere, and neither does Achilles.
Instead, they grab more seats, and we all settle around the pit.
This time, the girls gather around me, Ella sitting on Peach's knees, as we huddle on three chairs for four.
Achilles is on the complete opposite side, and I can only see him through the flames, so I feel comfortable talking about him.
"Is he always that intense?" I ask quietly.
Ella gives me her solo cup with a mischievous smile. "If you want an introduction to SFU, you're going to need this."
Her gaze moves all around the circle, and that's when I notice the eyes on us. So many people are walking past our spot, observing me.
"Okay, what am I missing here?" I ask, panic coming back to my stomach.
The three women all eye my cup intensely, and I down it without hesitation.
"You're new," Alex finally says. "It's piquing everyone's interest."
Peach looks at someone over my shoulder. "Especially thirsty-ass boys. Fuck off."
I turn around, only to catch a group of men walking away.
They're dressed like the opposite of the men on the North Shore.
Button-downs for a college party? Come on.
Their jeans look like they've been fitted by a tailor, and even their seemingly informal sneakers are from brands I’ve never heard of.
People here don't seem to show any big designer names.
They're the old-money type of rich that pretends to dress modestly but are actually wearing clothes that probably cost more than my rent.
"There are new people every year. You know, freshmen?"
"What Alex isn't saying," Peach explains, "is that you're new to this part of town.
Ninety percent of the people here went to the same prep school as us.
We've seen each other our entire lives. Same functions, same schools, town balls, country club, sports events.
Why do you think there are so little students at SFU? "
"What about the other ten?"
"International students from other preppy elite schools around the world," Ella adds.
I practically gulp. "Is it that obvious that I'm from the North Shore?"
They all pause, clearly unsure how to avoid hurting my feelings.
"Well," Ella starts softly. "Just that you're not from here. Old money recognizes old money, you know? It's stupid, really. We don't care. We— God, I don't know how to not sound like a privileged asshole right now."
I laugh a little, letting Alex refill my cup. "Don't worry. I get it. We’d spot you guys from a mile away if you came to our side of town. You're rich, it shows. I'm poor, and it shows too. Let's not beat around the bush."
"You're at SFU now," Alex adds. "That’s all that matters. And people here can be horrible, so we want to make sure you feel welcome with us."
My mouth twists, and I notice a group of friends not far from us clearly talking about me, their eyes going back and forth, their laughs echoing.
"I think someone took a picture of me earlier. Am I dressed that badly?"
"Oh, that." Peach points at my drink again, and I gulp more of it. "We have a gossip account."
My mouth drops open for the second time tonight. "Is this real-life Gossip Girl?"
"No." Ella chuckles, then winces. "Much worse. But don't worry. We've all been on it. Our entire group has, and we survived."
"Barely," Peach mumbles.
"Peach," Alex scolds her. "You're going to scare her."
"Hermes is horrible. I'm trying to prepare her."
"Hermes? So, someone’s going to be talking about me on that account tomorrow?"
And that silence is back. I'm starting to understand their dynamic, so I turn directly to Peach, because she's obviously the one who will spill truths without fear of hurting someone's feelings.
"You've already been on it."
That drink is feeling like it's going to come back up.
"What? Can I see? Who owns that account?"
"We don't know, but let's not ruin the night," Alex jumps back in. "To be completely transparent, they said that you didn’t belong here. You don’t need to see the exact post; you'll see plenty once the year starts.
Enjoy your first night here, Nyx. You'll figure out soon enough that people born with silver spoons in their mouths are still starving for something.
Often, they like to eat each other to feed that hunger. But we've got you."
That sentence settles into my head, sensing the truth from the years of experience these girls have with their peers.
A lifetime, really. I might have had to be careful about violence on the North Shore, but I'm not prepared for metaphorical knives in my back.
I'm not used to this type of crowd, who smiles to your face and sends pictures of you to a gossip account the second you look away.
Ella pours me another drink, and I realize the buzzing in my body is helping with the anxiety.
My lips taste sweet, of cherry and sugar.
My head feels lighter, and the party around me seems more welcoming.
I notice our circle has gotten bigger. People are standing around us, a lot of them hovering by the guys, even though they don't have chairs.
Mainly, they're trying to access Achilles.
Both men and women are miserably attempting to get his attention.
It looks like it's not only me and the other groupies online who venerate him.
Even in his elitist environment, he's a superstar.
His pitch-black hair is a little messy, and I catch him running his hand through it.
The gray in his eyes is a little brighter from the alcohol and the fire reflecting in them, and every now and then, his red lips slightly curve into a secretive smile.
I could look at his mannerisms all day long, wondering what he truly thinks of the people around him.
"You're right," I answer Alex, my focus coming back to them. "Let's change the topic. What do you all study?"
"Peach is about to start her master’s in environmental engineering," Ella says excitedly. "Alex and I don't actually study here anymore." She laughs a little. "We just snuck in for this party, but you won't see us around much."
"Just me and you, baby," Peach adds with a wiggle of her eyebrows.