Bloody Princess by Helen Scott
16
Lyric
It turns out that all the fraternities come by and serenade the sororities on Bid Day. There are a few more rounds of singing boys, most of them already tanked, and none of them getting the same reaction from the Pi Ep girls as the APT guys.
The serenades are done when Francine speaks next, "Ladies, if you want to join those of us going to the APT party, you're welcome to. This is not a required pledge event. We'll chat about those tomorrow before you head back to your dorms. For now, just enjoy the night. There will be some sisters who are staying here, so you won't be alone, and there will be some who attend the parties at other frat houses, so we don't offend anyone. If you want to go with us to the party, be ready to go in the next hour. Also, if you want, we have extra gold shorts you can wear, but no pressure." She gives us all a big smile and claps, and I can tell we are being dismissed.
Meara appears next to me and says, "Do you want to come to the party? You totally don't have to."
"I'm in," I reply with a smile. "Can I get some of those gold shorts?"
It's like that's the magic password that she’s waiting to hear, and as soon as I ask for the shorts, she does these delicate little claps where just her fingertips touch and says, "Follow me!" She disappears into the crowd, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear she’s some kind of stealth operative with how freaking sneaky she can be. It's a good thing to keep in mind, though.
As much as people brush off sororities as fluff, these girls had to go through some shit to join, and they have to have and maintain a certain GPA as well. Just because there are parties and other shit that goes on doesn't mean that these girls aren't all talented in their own right. Maybe Meara does martial arts or something? I certainly don't know.
When she pops back up next to me as I'm looking for her, I'm not as surprised. She just shimmies the gold shimmery material and offers the shorts to me. I take them and move to one side, stripping down and replacing my jean shorts with these gold ones. They barely fit over my ass but are loose in the waist. Fabulous.
"What do we think?" I ask Meara as I give her a spin.
"Damn girl! That ass, though," she crows as she fans herself.
I move over to where there's a big mirror on one of the walls and check out my butt. The shimmery material only seems to highlight my curves. Added to the t-shirt that's stretched tight across my chest? I look like I'm about to bust the seams on all of it.
"Oh, you should tuck the shirt in, or tie a knot in it!" one of the older sisters says as she sees me looking in the mirror.
I take her suggestion and pull the extra fabric of the t-shirt to the side before knotting it in place. The action highlights my small, toned waist and leaves me feeling oddly sexy, which is not something I'm used to. Yes, I know how to dress myself to be as appealing as possible to the male gaze, but that doesn't always feel good. This actually feels good, which is weird for a pair of sparkly shorts and a t-shirt.
"Here, you should hydrate," Meara says as she hands me a bottle of water.
I crack the plastic cap open and drink heavily from it. The pizza was pretty salty, so I'm thirstier than I realize and almost finish the entire bottle.
We relax for a bit, and I watch the other girls doing each other's makeup and curling their hair and wonder if I should be doing the same. As though she has read my mind, Meara is there in front of me again with a small makeup bag. "Let's make you look a little more awake, shall we?"
Her words surprise me, and it feels like a jab disguised as being helpful.
I brush it off and say, "Sure."
She motions for me to sit and goes to work. By the time she's done with my face, the majority of the girls are ready to leave, and we all head out as a group to the party house. It's not the official APT house's address, so it must be an off-campus house, which is probably why Jude is okay having freshmen there drinking.
I don't even get a chance to look at my makeup before we leave. I'm just hustled out the door. The walk from the Pi Ep house to the house on Cedar Street is only a few minutes, and in the cool night air I feel more alive than I have in a while. There is an energy in the air that crackles along my skin. I'm not sure whether it's from the sisters excited to get the lion's share of rush over with or the new members excited to finally start on their journey toward becoming full sisters. Either way, it makes me want to do something reckless, which unfortunately, isn't a feeling I can indulge in.
Suddenly, the itch to go home and use my basement hits me full force, and I have to take a few deep breaths. I try not to let the violent side of my nature out too much, but I'm starting to discover that I need an outlet for it, and so far running and working out every day hasn't taken care of that for me. The only thing I can do is try and numb the need—try and think about anything else.
Fortunately, going to a frat party where I know next to nobody should help with that. As we walk up to one of the more rundown houses on the edge of campus, I can already see the beer cans lining the window sills. We file in and a cheer goes up from the guys. Someone shouts something, and their words are already slightly slurred, letting me know how long these guys have been going.
The house itself is as bland as it comes. White, stained walls and brown carpet that I don't think was actually brown to begin with make up the bulk of it, with some posters and tapestries here and there. Mountains of beer cans and pizza boxes line the walls, and I'm honestly a little nervous to see the bathroom. I can't even think about how gross it probably is if this is what the living area is like.
One of the brothers is wandering around with the cardboard remains of a case of beer on his head, his eyes peeking out through the handle area. I honestly don't know what to make of that.
"Ladies! Welcome! Beverages are through that door there, and this door is the bathroom. Feel free to make yourselves at home!" Jude's voice calls out, and I watch him gesture to the doors. I can't help but wonder how his attitude will change when he sees that I'm with them.
One of the sisters moves away from the rest of us and snuggles under his arm. I'm guessing this is his girlfriend. She's pretty. I'll give her that, and I honestly don't want to hurt her since she hasn't done anything to me, but I might have to if it comes to breaking Jude down.
I would say I steeled myself against the possibility, but there isn't much to harden. Most of me doesn't give a flying rat's ass about any of these people and is willing to do whatever it takes to get the answers I need.
Still, I need to try to do this the right way first. Violence can come later, when I have no other option.
"Little L!" Atlas' voice calls out from just off to the side. His blonde hair shines, even in the low light, making him look like he's dipped in gold, especially with his skin still holding onto his summer tan. The amber slashes of his eyebrows, and the even darker brown of his eyes, just made him look broody, even though I know he's not. Atlas always seems as light as a feather with no worries on his mind. I kind of envy that about him.
I cringe inwardly at the attention, but I also know that it is inevitable and even worse, it's what I want, to an extent. On some kind of masochistic instinct, I glance over at Jude and his girlfriend, who are now both looking at me. He is definitely glaring, while she is more curious than anything else, until he whispers something in her ear and her expression changes to match his.
Why do I feel like I just made an enemy without even opening my mouth?
I don't have a chance to worry about it too much, though, because Atlas is there the next moment, offering me a beer and saying, "I didn't know you were pledging!" From the tone of his voice and the level of his excitement I have to wonder how long he's been drinking already. I didn't see him, Keats, or Thayer at the serenade earlier, just Jude.
His gaze slides down my body, taking in the stretched t-shirt and skin tight shorts that just draw attention to my ass, which is fine by me. It's a fucking fabulous ass. I toss my hair over my shoulder, and he studies me for a moment, looking at me differently than he does in class. There's something needy and longing about his expression.
I clear my throat and shout, "Yeah, I'm surprised Keats didn't tell you!" Being heard over the music, which is getting louder while we talk, is a challenge, but not one I'll fail at.
For a moment, I see the confusion flicker in Atlas' face at the idea of Keats knowing something and not sharing it with the rest of them. If I had to place a bet on the reason why, I'd say he was avoiding a fight with Jude. I can’t blame him, either.
"I'm just glad you're here! This means we get to party together!" Atlas has definitely been drinking. I'm sure of it now. It's not that it's easy to tell, but with how overtly friendly he is, it makes me think that something is helping him loosen up, and the most likely thing is the beer can in his hand.
"Me too!" I grin back at him and take a long drink from the beer can he handed me. It's fucking disgusting. I'd rather chug straight vodka—bottom shelf—than drink this, but this is what college students do, apparently, so I'll play the part. For now, at least.
"Did you meet Miriam or Rachel yet?" he asks as we move to stand by the wall.
The other girls fan out and seem to find groups of brothers to flirt with, all playing wing-woman for each other. I don't mind, especially since I haven't really had a chance to even talk to any of the members of my pledge class yet. We've all been shuffled from one activity to another it seems. Tomorrow is supposed to be all about sisterhood, though, so we'll see what happens then.
I shake my head in response to Atlas and try to keep my brain on track.
He gestures to the sister I suspect is Jude's girlfriend, though neither of them look particularly happy right now, and confirms it when he says, "That's Miriam, Jude's girlfriend. I'm guessing she's pissed about not being made a sweetheart. And over there is Rachel, Thayer's girlfriend. They are more on and off again, though."
Miriam is an ashy blonde with perfectly styled curls and subtle makeup that's supposed to make it look like she doesn't have any on, but no one's pores are that small. Rachel, on the other hand, is one of the most alternative looking sisters, which isn't saying much, really. I actually had a moment where I wondered if they would even accept me since I'm a brunette. Most of the sisters are blondes with perfect makeup and outfits, ones that show that they have plenty of money and know how to display it. I probably have more money than most of them put together, but I try not to flaunt it.
I watch Rachel for a moment, since she's the one I think I might be able to relate to the most, and see that, even though she's a brunette like me and wears dark eyeliner that makes her look a little emo, she's just as bubbly and peppy as the rest of them. I think she might think she's edgy—and compared to the other Pi Ep sisters, she is—but that’s like she's saying she listens to metal, but the only band she knows is Metallica.
"Come on, let's go get you another beer and play some pong," Atlas says as he takes my free hand and leads me through the crowd.
I shouldn't be so surprised by physical contact from him since he's one of the most physical people I know. He's always connecting with the people around him somehow. I'm just not used to nonviolent touch yet. Even with Evie, I have to remind myself not to pull away or step out of reach. It's just instinct for me.
When we get to the back patio area, it's more of a small deck, and there's a keg out there, along with a bathtub full of ice and beer.
"Little L!" Keats shouts when he sees me.
I don't miss the way his gaze travels over my body, and I feel a strange tightness in my belly. "Hey!"
Keats gives me a hug, which I don't expect, and when he pulls away, I see Atlas watching the two of us. "Atlas was just about to show me how to play pong," I say, trying to break the awkwardness that has fallen between us. I'll drive them apart eventually, but now is most definitely not the right time for that.
"Tight. Have you ever shotgunned a beer?" Keats asks, his dark blue eyes alight with humor.
I shake my head and bite my lower lip just a little. His gaze dips down to the action, and without pausing, he turns and grabs a few cans of beer from the bathtub, tossing one to Atlas and holding two cans, that I assume are mine and his own in one hand.
"How are you at chugging?" he asks seriously.
I shrug. "No idea."
He chuckles and says, "I'm going to stab a hole in this, and you drink from it...You know what, I'll just demonstrate with one." He sets one beer can down and pulls his keys from his pocket, using them to pierce the can in the bottom third before putting it up to his mouth and popping the tab. He downs the whole thing in a matter of a few seconds, tilting the can and his head to the side to get every last bit. When he's done, he pulls it away and crunches the can in his hand before tossing it in the trash can nearby.
"Whoever finishes first gets bragging rights," he tells me with a wink.
Keats picks up the can from the ground and pierces it before carefully handing it to me, then he grabs himself a fresh can and does the same to his own. The hiss of a can being pierced behind me makes me turn, and I see Atlas standing at the ready.
"Ready?" Keats asks.
When Atlas nods, I take the same position Keats and Atlas are in, with the can just an inch or so from my mouth, supporting with one hand, while the fingers of my other hand are already braced against the tab, then nod.
"Go!" Keats calls, though it's muffled by the can coming to his lips.
The crack of the tabs being pulled sounds as we all open our beers, and I open my throat as I suck all the beer from the can. I pull it away from my mouth at the same time as Keats, which earns me a surprised look from him. Atlas finishes a couple seconds later. It's barely even enough time to tell that he finished after us, but Keats certainly seems to have noticed.
"Little L beat you," he crows at Atlas.
"Looks like she almost beat you as well," Atlas says after letting out a huge burp.
I don't stop the burp trying to work its way out of me, and both of them look at me in surprise. "What? A girl can't burp after shotgunning a beer?"
"Just didn't expect you to," Keats says with a shrug.
"I thought Daddy Sterling hated stuff like that?" Atlas asks, his dark eyes studying me.
I try to smile, but I can tell it's not having the effect I want. "Well, he's not here, is he?"
"I fucking hope not," Atlas mutters.
"Not unless you want to see Jude fucking lose it," Keats adds.
I didn't know Jude had any issues with my father. "What do you mean?"
Atlas gives Keats a pointed look, and they both quickly say, "Nothing."
"Bullshit. Tell me what's going on." I cross my arms over my chest and glare at them. It's not the same look I use on people in my basement since, you know, I don't want to terrify them or anything, but it's enough to have them giving me a double take.
Or maybe that's just my tight t-shirt.
Still, Atlas says, "Jude and Daddy Sterling didn't agree on Lyssa's future. There were some heated exchanges between them."
"Why did Jude give a shit about Lyssa's future?" I ask, trying my hardest to play innocent and not let the venom I feel toward the APT President seep into my voice.
"They were, uh, more than friends before Lyssa's accident," Keats says, rubbing the back of his neck as though he's worried the news will piss me off.
"I thought you guys were like brothers to her," I say quietly.
"We were, but something changed between the two of them, and they started feeling shit for each other," Keats adds.
"Yeah, until they didn't," Atlas mutters.
I raise my eyebrows at him, urging him on. This is exactly why I've come to Welhurst—why I rushed Pi Ep. "Come on, Atlas," I say, pleading with him.
"Something happened between them, right before Lyssa crashed. I don't know what, but the two of them couldn't even look at each other anymore. Our whole group was fucked up by it. Neither of them would talk about it, Jude still won't, and he only gets ragey when you ask him about it, so don't," Atlas says, warning me away from the very person it seems I need to speak with the most.
"Do you know what happened the night of the crash?" I ask, unable to stop myself from probing a little further.
They both shake their heads. "We were at the gala, but Lyssa left before all of us," Keats says.
"She said she wasn't feeling well," Atlas adds, sounding so dejected it breaks the tiny section of my heart that is left.
I don't open my mouth and respond, even though I want to. I want to tell them that Lyssa had been drugged and that was probably why she felt like shit. Or that maybe it was morning sickness, or even just the fact that the four of them had abandoned her when she needed them the most. I can’t say any of that, though—not if I want to get the evidence I need to string them up by their toes. Or at least, whichever one of them was responsible for drugging my sister.
There is one thing I know for sure, and that’s that Lyssa didn't drug herself. She would never do something like that knowing she was pregnant. It isn’t only her death I’m avenging, but the death of my niece or nephew as well, and Heaven help anyone who gets in my way.
