Chapter 1
ONE
SLUTTY FUNERAL, NOT ACTUAL FUNERAL
SARAH
“Is that the dress you wore to Emma’s funeral?”
I glanced down at the tasteful black A-line cocktail dress and frowned. “Yeah? The theme is funeral, right?”
“Slutty funeral, not actual funeral. It’s pretty fucked up to wear the actual dress you wore to our sorority sister’s funeral to a frat party,” Sadie, Beta Alpha Epsilon’s newly elected social chair, said, gesturing to everyone around us dressed in black party clothes getting shit faced on Natty Light and Everclear.
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Kat snapped, handing Mona her phone. “This entire party is fucked up. Who throws a funeral-themed party just a few months after a sister dies?” She bit the lip of her empty red cup as she twisted her long pink hair into a bun.
“Epsilon Chi picked the theme for this six-pack, not me. If you don’t like it, leave,” Sadie said, walking away to join her big at the beer pong tables. She’d been a jerk when Emma was alive, but after her death? Sadie was determined to snatch the title of Northeast Missouri State’s biggest bitch.
“I’m so fucking hot.” Olivia pulled the collar of her black sundress from her body and sighed. “Why are there so many people here? The semester’s over.”
“That’s Kirksville summer. Every Greek still in town is here tonight,” Mona said absently, looking up from Kat’s phone and asking Kat, “Why have you been texting Duncan?”
Kat dropped the plastic cup from her mouth, stomping on it as she snatched her phone back. “I was weak! And you weren’t around. You can’t hold me responsible for my actions.”
Mona’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your excuse for texting him right now?”
A dark blush spread across Kat’s already rosy cheeks as she looked around and then down at her phone as it lit up with a new notification. “I’m drunk?”
“Mm-hmm.” Mona rolled her eyes. “Just make sure he stays away from Frattic.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kat mumbled, tapping away on her phone.
Mona whispered something in her ear, and Kat smirked, shaking her head. The two continued their back and forth, tussling over the phone like we weren’t in public.
“Do you really have to leave tomorrow? You’ll be leaving me alone with—” I glanced at our fellow Frattic roommates and frowned. “Them.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Grandma is having her surgery on Wednesday, and I need to help Mom set up the guest room. Not to mention I’m on deadline with my editor.
A little quiet will hopefully help get this draft done.
” Taking a sip of her drink, she took her phone out of her pocket. “Michael is unbelievable.”
“Still trying to apologize?”
Olivia aggressively tapped out a message and then slid her phone back in the pocket of her sundress.
“He is, which is psychotic. I caught him with his tongue shoved down Callie Turner’s throat.
There’s no coming back from that.” As the words left her mouth, she pulled her phone back out and fell right back into the habit of arguing with her asshole boyfriend instead of dumping his cheating ass.
Downing the cup of potent jungle juice, I glanced around the room and froze. Across from us, wearing a crisp white shirt in the sea of black clothes, was a guy I’d never seen before.
Holy shit, he’s hot.
The lights flashed across his high cheekbones and sharp jaw as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. I blinked rapidly, pretty sure he was a mirage. No one was that good-looking in real life.
He raised a cup to his mouth just as he noticed me watching. Our eyes locked, and hand to God, my heartbeat stuttered.
Lowering his drink, he looked me up and down, his plush lips stretching into a wide smile. Mr. Handsome tilted his head, inviting me to join him.
I dipped my chin, glancing down at my cup and then back up through my eyelashes. I’d never been good at long-distance flirting, so it was a crap shoot on whether he’d take the coy bait.
Still grinning, he shook his head and pushed off the wall, walking out of sight.
Well, damn.
I had rarely found myself so attracted to a guy, and I’d blown it.
“Did you guys see that email from campus security?” Mona asked, her gaze following Blake Sheffield, the president of Beta Sigma Beta, as she walked past us to the bar that was recklessly covered in open-flame candles.
Kat bumped her shoulder and frowned. Blake and Mona had history, and Kat took it upon herself to hold the grudge for her best friend.
“Yeah. Pretty scary stuff,” I said, pulling the duo’s attention from the preppy girl grimacing as she took a shot of clear liquid.
Kat shrugged. “It didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. You can’t trust these bastards.”
“Things do seem to be getting worse though. A girl is missing, and a few others have been assaulted.” Mona said as she scanned the room. “Too bad that besides that email, the university has done nothing.”
“Fuck’em. We’ll just keep watching each other’s backs. No sister left behind.” Kat said, glaring at her ex, Duncan, who was posted up across the room with the last girl he had cheated on her with. “Of course,” she scoffed and took a step toward them, only to have Mona hold her back.
“We’re up!” Rae shouted over the loud music.
Olivia caught my hand and led me to the back of the Barn.
The Epsilon Chi party spot was a big open space with a tiered dance floor on one side, a bunch of beer pong tables on the other, and two nasty bathrooms. So, not an actual barn, but who was I to judge the name of a place when Beta Alpha Epsilon had houses called Nuthouse and Frattic?
The guys had gone all out on the funeral theme.
Flower wreaths hung on all the doors, decked out with sympathy sashes.
A potluck of party snacks lined the far wall as if we were truly at a wake.
What pushed the whole party solidly into tasteless territory was the foam tombstones propped in “the graveyard”—aka a pile of dirt in the corner.
In the center, the largest headstone read Emma Miller.
The four of us stopped and watched Andy, an Epsilon Chi, pour out a little jungle juice on the dirt as if paying tribute.
We’re all going to hell.
“That’s just fucked up,” Kat growled, stomping right up to the display and plucking Emma’s tombstone from the bunch.
“Hey! I worked really hard on that!” Andy yelled, trying to snatch it back.
Kat dodged his hands and stuck out her combat-boot-clad foot. Andy stumbled over it, falling face-first into the booze-soaked dirt.
“Why don’t you work really hard on being a decent human being?” Mona said, taking the tombstone and putting it under her arm. She looked at us, then back at the tasteless prop. “What should we do with this thing?”
Olivia eyed it carefully. “Feels wrong to throw it away.”
“But if we keep it, are we asking for trouble?” Mona asked, lifting it up to inspect it.
Kat scoffed, purposefully stomping on Andy’s hand. As he howled in pain, rolling into the other tombstones and knocking them over, she said, “Oh, but doing a blood ritual on a full moon wasn’t asking for trouble?” She cocked her head and gave Mona a mocking smile.
“That was different,” Mona dismissed. “That was a bit of sisterly bonding.”
“Was it?” I said softly. “Emma died that night.”
We stood there silently as the party raged around us.
“Guys! If you don’t hurry, we’re going to lose the table!” Britta shrieked from across the room.
“Let’s go.” Olivia stepped around Andy, who was trying in vain to brush dirt from his face.
Kat took the tombstone from Mona and snapped it over her knee.
“Kat!” I yelled, snatching the pieces from her.
“What? It’s just foam and markers. It’s not like I desecrated her burial site.” She took the halves back and broke them down until the headstone was a pile of bits.
The same unease I’d felt the night we pricked our fingers for Emma settled in my belly. Something about the occult and death spooked me to my nondenominational Christian raised core.
“I guess that’s one way to deal with it,” Mona murmured, frowning at her best friend before walking away.
“Everyone is so fucking touchy,” Kat said, stomping toward our roommates.
I reluctantly followed.
What a way to get back into the party scene . . .
Drunk co-eds crowded around, watching even drunker co-eds play rowdy games of flip cup and pong.
One of the perks of Northeast Missouri State was that the Greek system lacked the stereotypical rivalry and general douchebaginess you’d see in movies and TV.
That’s not to say things didn’t get heated during Homecoming or Greek Week, but usually the frats and sororities peacefully coexisted.
We commandeered the backmost beer pong table, giving us the perfect vantage point for the night.
Rae poured fresh water into the cups, a change that came after the great mono outbreak of spring semester.
The game was now based on the honor system.
They sink a cup, and you drink from your own—no risk of spreading communicable diseases.
“Winner buys the first round at trivia next week,” Mona hollered over the thumping bass. Kat slid next to her, and they did the little handshake they’d perfected over a decade of friendship.
“Game on!” Rae and Britta took the other side, and Olivia and I leaned against the wall.
Per the usual, Rae dominated the game. With her exceptional hand-eye coordination and ridiculous arm span, it really wasn’t fair to let her play against us.
“And that’s game.” Rae threw her hands in the air and marched around the table in victory.
Leave it to the girl from a family of professional athletes to be a sore winner.
Kat and Mona hung their heads, clinging to one another as they pretended to cry. Kat patted under her eyes and then checked her fingertips. “Huh. I thought I could get at least one tear.” She detangled herself from Mona and cleared her throat. “I guess it’s good I gave up on being a theater major.”