I should have known by this point that Pruitt would never stop surprising me. That's what I thought as I followed Heather and her friends through the woods. I hadn't even known there were woods out here, behind the field house. But there we were, in the thick of it. The path was clearly not Pruitt approved, just a thin line of packed dirt marred by branches and fallen logs. My guess was that it had been forged by students. Trekking over this same stretch of land until they permanently scarred the landscape. How very Pruitt of them, bending even nature to their will.
"Just a little further girls!" Heather's voice came from up ahead. It was the most enthusiastic I'd ever seen her. She was already swaying slightly in her heels, fueled by the bottle of Jäger dangling from her hand.
We were a bigger group than I expected. Most of the lacrosse girls, but not all of them, and other girls I didn't know, freshman, sophomores, juniors, and seniors most of them I've seen with Heather at one time or another. All of them dressed to the nines and all of them beautiful. If these are my competitors for Lord's Girl then I'm in trouble.
I didn't have too much time to think about it because in a couple of seconds the path widened out into a clearing. Not just any clearing either. It was a broad stretch of land and in the center was a crumbling mess of brick and metal, an old, condemned, building.
I couldn't speak, couldn't even force a whisper, but I didn't need to. Heather turned, her black dress billowing in the wind, and threw her arms up, looking only at me. "Welcome to the ruins!" She stumbled and Talia raised a hand to still her. I was still getting used to this new side of Heather, trying to figure out whether or not it was just a new facade.
"What is this place?" I mustered the words, leaning in so only Maggie Fortworth, fellow junior, could hear me.
Maggie looked at me like I was a piece of rotting food, but answered anyway. "It's part of the old campus. From like the late 1800s. They tried upkeep for a while, but it's fucking toxic. So they moved everything into the main buildings."
It seemed crazy to me, keeping a random extra building, one that took up so much space. I guess when you were rich it didn't matter. You could just build new buildings.
"Are the parties always here?" I asked.
"No," Maggie said it with a sneer like I was the most ignorant person she'd ever met. I thought she'd elaborate, but she didn't.
The next thing I knew we were at the doors, and I was staring up at the ornate carvings that ringed its frame. Pruitt Hawks. Sometimes I dreamed about those hawks, the ones that looked down from the parapets and adorned my jersey. Always watching. It was almost like they were hunting me. Like I was the prey.
Inside, the building had mostly held up. It was all sweeping ceilings, that while cracked, seemed stable. There were large ornate bookshelves lining the walls, long since emptied of books. They were like the whole place, like a husk, a shell. It was beautiful. All of Pruitt was beautiful, but this place was also eerie. I felt a little shiver as I noticed the imperfections in the plaster and the holes in the rug. There were a lot of messed up buildings in Lamoni, but none of them were like this. None of them had ever been beautiful.
The setting's dissonance was not the only disturbing thing. The other was the boys. They were already here, and they were so much stranger than our surroundings. It was boys I knew and ones I didn't. All Pruitt kids. From all different years. Except for freshman. I didn't see any freshman. They were all dressed in the same suit. Each one black, tailored and pressed with a golden crown emblazoned on the breast. All except for Tim Watson. The king.
Tim lounged in one of the room's few chairs. His suit was all white, with no crest, but on his head sat a golden crown. Not a costume one that you would get at a party store. A real, glinting, gold crown. His hair was gelled beneath it, slicked into its usual gentle waves, but today they didn't look inviting. He looked cold, and dangerous, every bit the calm collected leader.
The other boys stood around the chair, holding cocktails, and posed like they were about to take a group picture. They weren't. The theatrics were for us.
We stood frozen in the doorway. Tim's mouth pulled up at the corner and he gave a wry, fox like grin. One that didn't meet his eyes. This was not the typical Pruitt smile. It was the look of a predator. It was the look of a hawk.
"Welcome." He said. His voice was quiet, but it didn't matter. The room was silent. All of us were waiting for him to speak.
At that, Heather led us forward. "Lords." She said in a simple greeting. The boys didn't move. All of them stayed where they were, smug and smiling. There was power here, and for maybe the first time I'd seen, Heather didn't have it.
Tim cocked his head to the side. "Stop." She stilled. They all did. I wasn't ready. I tripped on my own feet, almost falling before I stilled. Everyone was watching me. Everyone. I must have broken some unspoken rule. Tim watched me for only a second. Then, he gripped the hand rests and raised himself from his chair.
In the quiet his footfalls were thunderous. He came towards us. The other boys stayed where they were, but their smiles grew. Tim stepped close, his eyes raked over each of us. Every now and then he paused. When he got to Heather he stopped and curled a lock of her hair around his finger. His mouth moved but I couldn't make out the words. Her eyes were wide, unblinking. For a moment I found myself almost scared for her. Then he was moving again.
He got to Lexi Li. Our goalie, and the only girl in our group who stood taller than Tim. His lip curled as he sized her up. "Leave." He said. Her face went slack. A boy laughed. Heather looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. No one moved. "Leave." He said, again. His voice was louder this time. So loud I flinched. I wasn't the only one. The other girls glanced around nervously, but Lexi just turned tail and sped towards the door, breaking into a near run by the time she was almost out. It sounded like she might have been crying.
Someone should've said something. I should've said something.
I didn't.
But I could feel my annoyance at the institution of the Lords as Heather had described it growing into something deeper. Something closer to hatred. The way these boys watched us, the way Tim demeaned and dismissed, it made me feel afraid. And there was nothing I hated more than feeling afraid. I wanted to take the Lord's down more than ever and to do that I had to maintain my cover.
Tim passed the rest of this over without further mishap, he glazed right over me. "Phones." He said, another command. A younger boy scurried forward, holding a bag. One by one girls dropped their phones inside. When he got to me I paused, letting my fingers glide across the smooth screen of my uncle's old cell. No one there could know how much it meant to me, how much it hurt to let it slide into the boy's bag.
When the boy was finished he backed away. Tim made for the stairs at the far end of the room, climbing high enough so that he was in clear view of everyone.
"Lords and Ladies!" He boomed, his deep voice echoing through the cavernous room. "Noble men and women of Pruitt, thank you all for coming here tonight!" The boys gave a rousing cheer and the girls joined in, a chorus of nervous cheers. Tim raised his hand and everyone stopped. "No section of Old Campus is off limits, but be careful. If you wander too far from home we will not be held responsible for any misfortune you may encounter." There was a small round of laughter, but when my eyes found Heather her face was stone and her eyes were cold. "Now," Tim's voice dropped lower, so deep I felt it vibrate in my chest. "Let's make this a night to remember. This time the cheers were deafening from all sides. I screamed with them. It seemed like the right thing to do, but Heather stayed silent.
After that, it started to look more like a normal party. I mean, the boys were still in suits and the drinks were still fancy but everyone was milling around talking, a group went outside to smoke, and there were other kids hotboxing in a closet.
I filled a glass with seltzer water, the fancy kind that came in a green glass bottle, it was clearly supposed to be a mixer, but I wasn't about to start drinking with this crowd. I felt like I was one wrong word away from getting beat to a pulp as it was.
"Hey," I spun at the voice from behind me. It was Cooper Lowell, a junior like me. We had history together. His wavy brown hair was pushed back, but one defiant curl fell into his eyes. I didn't know how I felt about Cooper. He'd always seemed like a carbon copy of every other Pruitt boy. I liked that he would sometimes share his notes with me, but I didn't like how close he was standing now. I could smell the alcohol in every warm breath. "Murphy, right?"
I nodded.
"I didn't know you were..." He paused, licking his lip. It wasn't quick and cunning like when Fletcher did it. It was slow, sloppy, and almost lecherous. "I thought you were a commoner."
"What?" I said without even thinking. My face reddened, but this time it was from anger.
"Shit," Conner said, raising a hand. "Not cause you're a scholarship kid or whatever..." He took a leisurely sip of his drink, not rushing to appease me at all. "Commoners are what Lords and Ladies call other kids. You know, cause they're like peasants or whatever." A strange feeling stirs in my stomach, more anger probably. This would have been useful information to get from Madeline or Fletcher.
"Oh," I said because I couldn't think of anything else.
"Yeah, but you're not like that." Connor leaned in so close I could feel his eyelash on my cheek. "You're one of us."
I started back, reeling like I'd been punched in the face. Sure I was at their party, but I'd never thought anyone at Pruitt would consider me one of them, let alone the most elite group.
Connor looked confused at my surprise, but he didn't have time to process it because all of a sudden there was another Conner right beside him. I looked frantically between the two identical boys, thinking the high stress situation must have pushed me over the edge. "What..." I managed to stutter out, but I couldn't finish the thought.
"I'm Cooper." The other Conner said.
"My brother." The first Conner continued.
I nodded, finally understanding. Twins. They were twins.
"Who's this?" Cooper slurred to his brother, propping himself up on Conner's shoulder. I wondered how he was already so drunk.
"This is Murphy," Connor said, his eyes narrowed. The undertone was clear. I glanced over my shoulder, but I was just inches away from the wall there was nowhere to run.
"Murphy!" All of a sudden Heather was standing in front of me and the twins were stumbling away. She was like douche repellent. I guess she still had some power. "Sorry about that," She said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hall. "The juniors are animals. They're competing for next year's king. The challenges change every year, but I'm sure there's some fucked up one involving body count.
I made sure to take note of that information and stay away from the junior boys. That sucked because they were the only ones I really knew.
"What is this?" Heather asked, wrestling my drink from my hand. She took a sip. "God Murphy, sobriety at your first party? This just won't do."
I tried not to scowl. I didn't know why Heather was suddenly acting so nice, but it made me nervous. "I'm not a big drinker," I said. It was true. I'd never really understood the appeal. Plus, I'd seen a lot of people destroyed by a lot of different substances.
"No, no, no." Heather tapped my nose like I was a rambunctious kid. "Here." She pressed her own glass into my hand. It was a worrying shade of green and almost full. I hesitated. "Murphy," Her voice turned dangerous.
It was a small sacrifice, and this was too important. I took the glass.
It was cool on my lips. I tipped it back, going for a small sip, but Heather's hand was on mine, guiding it. She coaxed the glass high and my chin back, and I didn't fight. I knew you didn't fight Heather. It didn't even taste too bad. The flavor was mostly like black licorice, except for a vague herbal undertone. When it was gone, Heather let her hand drop. Her eyes flashed and I started to worry.
She began to turn away, but I grabbed her arm. "What was that?"
She smiled. "Absinthe." And then she slipped back into the crowd.