Chapter Twenty-Eight To die upon a kiss
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
To die upon a kiss
I WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET Vivian and Luke on the main campus for lunch the next day.
Luke and I had a morning class, though different ones, and Vivian’s schedule finished with only one evening class since she’d been well into her degree before she’d died.
She insisted that, even though she was dead, she enjoyed auditing classes, especially ones where new faculty didn’t recognize her.
The dining hall was vast and brimming with students.
Local restaurants had satellite locations where they served food from different parts of the country and across continents.
Lines curved from corner to corner with most of the STEM and business school students crammed at a spot serving fusion food.
Arts and humanities students, identifiable by their colorful clothes and hair, grabbed to-go boxes or ventured to the dock where the hourly fan boat commuted students to and from the closest town, a few miles away.
After I grabbed a ready-made order of fusion food with the dining credits that my tuition covered, I joined Vivian and Luke near the second entrance of the dining hall.
They were already halfway through their meals. Luke scarfed down pizza and fries while Vivian paged through Luke’s notebook, the two of them in the midst of an animated conversation.
“Why won’t you just show me?” Vivian asked. “I won’t judge you.”
“You’re already judging me. See? You can’t even look me in the eye now.”
I sat next to Vivian, tearing open the take-home packet with a disposable fork and spoon.
Except for the fact that they were destroying the planet, disposable utensils were amazing.
They didn’t have memories seeping into their surfaces like reusable ones did.
I started digging into the rice and chicken.
Both were cold, but tasty in a way that reminded me of Saturday afternoons bingeing TV shows with Jojo while he filled out job applications.
“He’s joining a frat,” Vivian said, answering a question that, mind you, I hadn’t asked.
But now that I knew how dangerous Westfield was, I understood the panic in Vivian’s expression.
“Sigma is filled with assholes,” I said, nonchalant. “You don’t want to join that.”
Vivian smiled, pleased.
“Like you should talk,” Luke said. “Weren’t you guys at a Theta party? Without me.” He turned to Vivian. “And you’re in a sorority already. I don’t see the difference. What’s so wrong if I rush?”
She crossed her arms, irritation flickering in her gaze. “My sisterhood isn’t officially recognized by Westfield. ?nhye don’t have a house. And we don’t haze. Sigma hazes. Hence the asshole crown on campus.”
“Look, it’s not that serious,” Luke said. “I’m just keeping my options open.”
At my curious glance, Luke gestured to the notebook Vivian had been flipping through, where a feather had been pressed into one of the pages.
In black ink, someone had managed to inscribe words across the surface of the feather.
It looked like the Greek alphabet, though I couldn’t make out which letters.
Beneath that was a date, a brief message painted in a glittering ink reminiscent of gold leaf—but as if someone had trapped rays of moonlight in a fountain pen, making the words only visible in the right light.
Sigma Qoppa Nu invites you to rush. Answer with wisdom to pledge.
There was an empty section below the message for the person to write their student ID number and response to a riddle.
What does it take to untie a wise knot?
Luke’s response was blank.
“It’s not like it’s an official bid or anything,” Luke said. He didn’t meet either of our gazes, but his cheeks flared red.
Across the dining hall, some of the frats had set up tables.
One of them was Sigma, the other was Theta.
The other frats and sororities vying for members were on the other side of the dining hall, too far for me to read their insignias or logos.
As students streamed through the dining hall, the Greek life members stopped freshmen to apostolize their respective Greek house.
Some prospective members were waved away after a brief encounter, but others were slipped the same feather Luke had received.
Honey stood among the members of Theta, enticing freshmen to their table with snacks for the weekend and ugly little trinkets desecrated with the sorority’s garish insignia.
She was accompanied by Professor Enlex and a teacher’s assistant from Piano I, a younger woman who sat beside them handing out informational packets about Theta.
Meanwhile, Honey chatted the ears off of those that walked by.
Even over the chatter of the dining hall, I caught fragments of their conversation and the repetitive cadence as they repeatedly pitched their house.
“Theta Omicron Delta has a legacy of service, leadership, and empowerment,” Honey pitched.
“Our faculty and alumni chapter advisers are here today to explain how pledging Theta or our brother frat, Sigma, can change your undergrad experience. Our Greek houses are the oldest and first at Westfield, and our members have thrived beyond its grounds.”
An identical conversation was parroted at the Sigma booth across from them. Except Alaster, Kasem, Jojo, and another man were at their table, all doing their best to ignore one another.
Alaster’s voice boomed in the dining hall as he spoke with a group of freshmen boys who seemed desperate to kiss his ass.
On his left, Jojo stood, collecting names of students who might be interested in a study he was conducting about legacies whose families were connected to the history of Westfield.
And then, there was Kasem.
He sat on the far right of Alaster, as far away from Jojo as he could sit.
Unlike them, Kasem was spaced-out, ignoring one boy’s attempts to start a conversation.
A few freshmen who had received the initial invitation returned with their responses to the riddle filled out.
The man sitting next to Kasem took the completed invitations, thanked the freshmen, and then handed the feathers to Kasem, who read through them and placed them all in a wooden box.
Some he plucked raw, while others he stuffed inside with their responses untouched.
“You don’t know the answer to the riddle, do you?” I said, turning to Luke.
He ran his hand through his hair, abashed. “Yeah, not at all.”
“Hand it over,” I said.
“What?”
Ignoring him, I reached over and took the invitation, dropping it quickly in front of me before a vision could flash in my memory.
“What does it take to untie a wise knot?” I repeated.
Vivian laughed. “Morons, both of you,” she said.
“You know the answer?” I asked.
“There are, like, ten of them. Most of which are ancient proverbs that the Sigmas don’t understand, from cultures they didn’t take the time to learn.
They cycle through a few of them once every four years.
The lazy brutes can’t bother to update them.
Even Sigma’s motto isn’t as it once was, and yet their members keep Greek letters devoid of their original meaning.
It hasn’t been the same for either of the societies, not since they conned their way into being university-sanctioned. ”
“And how long ago was that?”
“A few years after Westfield was founded,” Luke answered. Which, again, explained even less how they’d managed to keep the answers to the riddles a secret. “Sigma has enough clout that no one cheats,” he added, reading my questioning look. “Don’t want to get banned.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Entirely,” Luke said. “They docked a freshman guy and girl a semester’s worth of points just for getting a Sigma and Theta chant wrong. And the school lets them.”
“What happens when you get in?” I asked.
“You mean besides getting accepted into a national organization whose members have connections with Fortune 500 companies and politicians?”
“Sounds culty to me.” I shrugged.
Luke laughed. “Sign me up, in that case.”
“You don’t mean that,” Vivian said.
“Bids earn a boatload of merit points. And pledges get access to restricted areas on campus.”
At that, my heart leaped. More access to campus locations. More of a chance to uncover where Jay and Pete might be hiding.
“It’s a signal of the school’s trust with Sigma and Theta above other Greek life on campus,” Luke continued. “That’s how much power they have. And more.”
I’d heard enough.
I stood, slipping Luke’s feathered invitation into my pocket and walking over to the table where Alaster, Jojo, Kasem, and the fourth man were still stopping freshmen.
Luke and Vivian hurried after me, weaving through the crowd of freshmen too.
Next thing I knew, I was standing before the four men, leaning over the table with my heart pulsing against my chest as Kasem stared back at me.
“I’d like to rush Theta,” I said, deciding then and there what I was going to do.
His eyes lit up in surprise. It was a muted response in front of the other three, but I hoped he understood my meaning beneath the words. Next to him, the other guy—Dayton, I learned, from a name tag on his chest—spoke before Kasem could.
“Theta’s the other table.”
“I’m aware,” I answered, not looking away from Kasem. “I just wanted you to know. That I’d like to rush Theta.”
Kasem quirked an eyebrow. Across the table, Jojo shifted in his seat. He was talking to a student, but I could tell he was watching us.
“Are you sure?”
No.
“Yes,” I lied.
Without looking away from me, he gestured for Dayton to get me an invitation. Confusion filled Dayton’s expression, and, reluctantly, he crossed the threshold to Theta.
Jojo clenched his fist, writing another student’s name on the sign-up sheet without looking at us. But beneath his angry sighs, his thoughts were clear.
“This isn’t you, Sianna,” Jojo said. “Don’t let him ruin your life like he does everyone else’s.”
I clenched my fists.
After all his lies, after choosing himself back at the estate, he kept trying to tell me who I was or what choices I could make. It was infuriating.
“Harsh, brother,” Kasem said, pretending to laugh to break the awkward silence at the table. He leaned over to me, whispering in my ear. “But seriously, we could find another way to fix your powers.”
Honestly, before the night at Theta House, I hadn’t been sure that ghosts or possession was even real.
And yet, here we were, caught in the path of the curse and all the horrors that came with it.
Kasem probably thought that because Jojo had determined it, I wouldn’t rush or follow the only thread we had to breaking the curse and me regaining control of my powers. But he was wrong. Both of them were.
Something overcame me then, something raw, and angry, and aching. Before I could stop myself, I closed the distance between Kasem and me.
And then I kissed him.