Bloody Princess by Helen Scott
2
Lyric
I've just finished unpacking one suitcase and putting the sheets on the gross, plastic-covered mattress of the extra-long twin bed that I’ll be sleeping on when Evie pushes to her feet from her bed. She tosses her phone onto the mattress, where it lands with a bounce.
"Want to go to the welcome dinner with me?" she asks as she goes to her closet and flicks through the hangers, evidently looking for something to wear.
"Sure." I hadn't planned on going, but spending time with my roommate would be good. I can see how she is with others. Is she an extrovert? Will she be my wingwoman at the frat parties I'll be going to? Or will I be leaving her behind to read in bed, like she's been doing all afternoon? Part of me feels like it was more to hide the fact that she was watching me, but I also have a tendency to be paranoid—with good reason, usually. There is nothing suspicious about Evie yet, though, so I push my paranoia away. "What are you wearing?" I ask a moment later as I look through the clothes I just hung up.
"This?" Evie's voice lilts up at the end, as though she isn’t sure of her pick.
I turn and find her holding a cute little summer dress with a floral pattern that will look beautiful with her blonde hair and sun-kissed skin. "Love it," I say, smiling at her before turning back to my own closet.
After a few more moments of deliberation, I pick out a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. I move to stand in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the back of our door and hold up the items of clothing. They might be a little much for my first outing.
I toss the shorts on the bed because it's hot as balls outside, and I'm not about to bake just to wear jeans—especially since I already made that mistake this morning. Hanging the tank top back up, I pick out a flowy, off-the-shoulder peasant top instead. I shimmy out of the jeans I had been wearing and pull off my t-shirt before slipping into the new outfit. Jewelry will have to wait for another time. I might be a bit prissy, but I'm not about to unpack another suitcase just to get some necklaces and earrings.
What I already have on is fine, anyway. A little black choker and some diamond stud earrings—nothing fancy. Oh, and the family ring, of course. I run my brush through my hair, throw on some eyeliner and mascara, and then I'm ready.
"Shall we?" I ask.
"You look hot," Evie says as she takes me in.
"Thanks," I grin at her. "You look like a summer goddess." I'm not lying, either. With her golden-blonde hair and the flowing, off-the-shoulder floral dress, she has an almost ethereal quality.
She grins at me as she pulls the bottom of each side of her dress and gives me a fake curtsey. "Thank you, as well."
As we head out the door, I grab my keycard and shove it in my shorts, along with my phone, obvs, and driver's license, just in case. As we get in the elevator, I ask, "So, do you know where we're going? I haven't had a chance to look through the welcome packet yet." Lie. I read that thing front to back multiple times, trying to remember every detail or possible activity.
"Yep. The student orientation dinner takes place outside the student union building," she replies in a fake fancy accent, and we both know that she's quoting the orientation packet, which is pretentious AF. "I think it's just pizza and burgers. Then, there's a movie afterward. It's probably something cheesy, but depending on who we meet, it might be fun to stay." She waggles her eyebrows up and down, and I can't help but laugh.
"Trying to get some ass on your first night? I admire your game, hon." I can't help but smile, thinking about all the guys that are going to fall at her feet and worship her like the goddess she appears to be. Evie getting some ass won't be a challenge.
"You know, at Welhurst, the female students are generally expected just to be here to find a husband, right?"
I snort. "Fat fucking chance of that happening. I'm getting my degree, come hell or high water."
Evie gives me a funny look for a split second before her face smoothes out as she asks, "Do you already know what you're majoring in?"
"No idea, but I'll figure it out." I shrug. That, at least, is the truth. Although, it doesn’t really matter what I major in, since my place in the family business is already guaranteed.
"Oh, thank God. I thought you were one of those annoyingly driven people that know what they want to be and the exact things they need to do to get there. I have no idea what I'm doing. Something artsy. Art History, maybe? I love painting."
I can't exactly tell her that I am, in fact, that driven person. I'm just pushing toward something else—something more in the realm of vengeance and the destruction of four juniors—so I just say, "I'd love to see you paint sometime."
A blush stains her cheeks as she says, "Oh, I don't paint in front of people. Or let them see my work."
"Then how are you going to be an Art major?" I ask, chiding her softly as we walk down one pathway then another toward the squat building that I know from the map sits in the middle of campus. I've already memorized every pathway, every way to get into and out of different buildings, and even some of the side streets and alleys. After all, I may need to abruptly get away at some point, and I'm not the kind of person to leave my escape to chance.
"I'll figure it out," she says quietly, and I know I've stepped on a nerve. Before I can apologize, she adds, "Oh, I can smell the burgers cooking from here!"
Evie bounces up onto the balls of her feet and skips ahead of me before twirling around, her hair and dress seeming to fly in the sunlight.
"Hungry?" I ask when she returns to my side.
"Starved! My dad didn't want to waste time getting food when he had places to be."
I nod. I'm familiar with fathers like that. "Well, let's get you fed then."
We aren't the only ones heading in this direction. Freshman from all over campus seem to be coming this way, and as we turn the corner to the back of the student union building, I see a row of grills cooking away, along with lines in front of each of them as other students wait to get their food.
The scent of the charred meat makes my stomach growl. Apparently, I am just as hungry as Evie.
"Come on, this way," Evie says as she tugs on my arm, steering us toward a registration desk.
We check in and get our blanket assignments. I hadn't even realized that the ground in front of the movie screen is covered in blankets with big number signs sitting next to them. We get in line for the food, and I watch as each one fills with more people as time goes on. Evie and I chat about everything and nothing as we progress toward the grill.
I learn that her favorite painter is Monet, which is not really a surprise. I would have guessed either Monet or Van Gogh. She loves Hawaiian pizza and Chicago style hot dogs. She is obsessed with Game of Thrones and The Handmaid's Tale TV shows, especially since they are based on books, and she loves Supernatural but is more of a Sam girl than a Dean girl.
Time is passing pleasantly, and I’m relishing the newfound freedom I have out from under my father's lock and key all the time. It’s not that I dislike my father. He's molded me into the woman I am and has made me part of the family from a young age, even though my uncles complained. I do everything I can to please him, but not having to think about him or the family for the next few weeks is liberating. If my lingerie wasn't so expensive, I might have even burned a bra to celebrate.
I’m sure that fall break will mean doing some work, but I'll gladly sacrifice a week if it means I can have the rest of my time free. It probably won’t just be fall break—more like any chance my father gets to call me home—but it will still be less than if I was living there. He's promised to respect my desire for a degree since he has one himself, even if my place is already decided.
By the time we get a little closer, my stomach is growling loudly enough that the guy in front of us turns around and raises an eyebrow at me in surprise. I glance up the line again, pleased to actually be able to see the grill now. It's at that point that I notice each of the grills has the letters of one of the frats painted on the front.
My gaze scans the grills I can see, and I don't see the APT grill anywhere. Then again, I can only see a few off to each side. The guy in front of us moves up, and suddenly, my heart jumps in my chest.
There, less than ten feet in front of me, is one of the Boys of Ascendance Bay. He is the richest of the rich, the most beautiful, the most athletic, the epitome of the haves—of people who can't even understand the have-nots because they live in a completely different world—just like me.
Atlas Lockwood.
He is a golden god among the students of Welhurst University. As the guy in front of us moves, I get to see the grill, painted with all the Alpha Phi Theta glory.
"Ladies, welcome to Welhurst! We are the Alpha Phi Theta fraternity representatives, and we are here to welcome you to campus. Now, what can I get you? Burger? Hot dog? Veggie burger? What whets your appetite today?" Atlas finally looks up, and his eyes first fall on Evie, which is no surprise, considering she looks like a goddess who has just stepped out of a painting. Then, a moment later, they land on me, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head until finally I play dumb and ask, "Atlas?"
"Lyric? Is that really you? Ho-lee fuckadoodle. The guys are going to flip when I tell them you're here!" He drops his spatula and comes around the side of the grill, and before I can stop him, he scoops me up into a big bear hug.
I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face, trying to ignore the thick bands of steel the guy calls arms that are wrapped around me. I don't like being manhandled, but in this situation, what I don't like doesn't really matter. I'm here for one reason, and one reason only, and that is Alyssa.
Finally, Atlas puts me down and asks, "How are you doing kiddo?"
"She's hardly a kid. Fuck man, look at her," his frat bro says as he takes a swig from a bottle that is definitely not appropriate for the under twenty-one crowd.
I smile at the friend and toss him a saucy wink as I say, "Thanks for noticing."
"Dude. No." Atlas turns and walks back to the guy behind the grill, who is supposed to be watching the burgers but seems more likely to let them burn, since he isn’t paying any attention. "Lyric is...Lyric is special. You don't get to talk to her like that."
"Atlas, I appreciate it, but I can handle myself," I say as I grab a plate with a burger on it.
"I'm Evie, by the way. Lyric's roommate." Evie sticks her hand out on the side of the grill and waits for one of them to shake it. Eventually, the friend gives in and they have an awkward exchange while his gaze eats her up like he's a starving man.
"Nice to meet you, Evie," Atlas says as he salutes her with the spatula, grease nearly dripping into his face as he waves it around.
"And I'm Steve. Can we get this line moving?" the guy behind me demands.
I turn and shoot him a withering glare.
"We probably should move out of the way," Evie says, sounding sorry to walk away from Frat Bro and Atlas.
"We're at blanket number..." I pause and look at the card the woman gave me. "Twenty-Two. You know, if you want to come join us when you're done with your chef duties?"
Atlas smiles at me and nods. It's his friend who jumps in and says, "There's a party tonight at the APT house. You lovely ladies should stop by."
"I don't think it's really appropriate for freshmen," Atlas hedges.
"I'd love to catch up," I say, giving Atlas my best pleading eyes—the ones even my father has a hard time saying no to.
"Okay, sure. Just be careful, though. I don't want Alyssa to haunt my ass for getting you in trouble." He must have seen something in my face because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he looks guilty, which is why a moment later he continues, "Shit. Sorry, Lyric. I didn't even think. I'm an asshole. Come to the party tonight, and I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"I'll hold you to that, Lockwood." I grin at him and walk away with my plate, the burger probably lukewarm at best by now and my appetite squashed. I keep the smile on my face, though, even if it is as brittle as newly formed ice on a pond. One wrong step and the whole thing might collapse.
I might have smiled and made nice with Atlas Lockwood, but he is one of the reasons I am here, and to hear him use Alyssa's name as a joke makes the poison in my veins that much more deadly. I will end him. As soon as I have what I need.
