The Latterson List

Chapter Two - The Host

And with that, she and Holly strode off back to their usual table. Only Counna lingered behind just long enough to turn back and say "enjoy the pudding!" He winked at me, and then followed his friends.

Immediately, both Tom and Rosella leapt up, skirted the table and sat to face me. Both of them wide eyed and wearing even wider smiles. Rosella grasped forward and held my hand.

"Are you okay, sugar?" she was buzzing, excitement clear in her eyes.

I nodded. Remember how to breathe, Mangana.

"I can't believe that. Actual Katie Latterson. At our table!" Tom beamed. He lunged forward and pinched the pudding from under my nose.

"I don't think Katie's ever personally approached someone and requested an RSVP." Rosella said. "Paul, this is a massive deal!"

"But why?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders. I just didn't understand why I'd even been invited, and why my invitation was such a big deal? "Why is everyone going mad over one invitation?"

Tom gestured at me with the pudding spoon. "It's because nobody knew who you were," he explained. "The Latterson List is reserved for the elite of this school, no offence, but that's what it's for. I wouldn't get a look in if it weren't for Rosella."

"And I wouldn't if Holly wasn't my sister," Rosella said.

"Aw, I think you're cool," I said, smiling up at Rosella.

"And that's why you're my favourite," Rosella winked at me. "Holly was telling me that this was going to be the biggest Latterson Party ever, but still only thirty invites were sent out, making sixty including their Plus Ones."

I looked at them blankly.

"That means getting an invite is a massive deal, even for the popular kids," Tom waved his spoon around dangerously.

"And through the Devil's work, you've landed one for yourself," Mary yelled from behind me. I jumped and she cackled wildly. "The Devil looks after his own."

"Oh so that's why you drew that antichrist sign on the floor, Paul. Y'know, with the blood of virgins," Rosella clicked her fingers in mock realisation.

I whirled around to face Mary. She and her gaggle of fanatics glowered at me.

"Can I help you?" I asked, gasping through that familiar feeling of cement crushing my lungs.

"Benedict, here, has been praying night after night for a chance to go to this party," Mary announced. "Why he wants to go to such a sin ridden event is beyond me, but 'tis not my place to judge."

Rosella snorted so loudly she nearly choked.

"As a messenger of His, I'm just here to point out the clear injustice. It's beyond me why a valiant soldier of our Lord is denied his whim but this wretch of abominable sin-"

"You should put that on your CV," Tom whispered to me.

"-is rewarded with the invitation that Benedict so rightly deserves." Mary finished, gesturing to the heavens above.

"Maybe you should ask God that when you thank Him for the weather on P's behalf," Tom suggested, dragging his finger around the inside of the pudding pot.

Mary folded her arms. "His will is not for us to know. But this, I do know." She stuck her finger at my face to emphasise the fact that this, she did know. "He has a Plan. And in His Plan, He will not look after perverts like you."

"Bugger." Rosella snorted, and Tom nearly spat out his pudding.

Mary rolled her eyes. She turned and walked away without another word. Her disciples followed, each of them saying a curse or a prayer under their breath, I could never tell. Just as I thought we were in the clear, Tom gestured for me to turn around once more.