Bloody Princess by Helen Scott
3
Lyric
When we get back to the room, I slide my phone from my pocket and text Melody.
First contact made with Atlas. Secured an invite to a party at their frat house tonight. Will make first contact with the others there.
She sends a thumbs up emoji, and a moment later, the two texts disappear. We might be young, but we aren't stupid enough to leave evidence lying around, which is why we use an end-to-end encryption chat program. It’s about as secure as we can get without resorting to carrier pigeons or something. I still can't believe I had to talk Mel out of that one. She'd thought it was genius—until we'd tested it, and the note had fallen out half-way through. We’d also discovered that pigeons shit a lot, and it gets everywhere. Since neither of us were living somewhere with staff to clean that sort of thing up, we’d quickly abandoned the idea.
"I still can't believe you know Atlas Lockwood. I mean he's one of the highest ranked lacrosse players in the country within our division. He could probably go pro if he wanted to. Does this mean you know the others as well?" Evie asks as she hops onto her bed and pulls a pillow onto her lap, clutching at the sides and waiting for my answer.
"The others?" I know exactly who she’s talking about, but I need to play dumb for as long as possible. We’re in a marathon, not a sprint, as Mel so often reminds me.
"The Boys of Ascendance Bay!" She squeals into her pillow, as though they are actual celebrities, which I suppose they might be, in the right light.
"The what, now?" I ask, like I don’t know half the population of Welhurst wants to get in the pants of said boys.
"The Boys of Ascendance Bay! Atlas Lockwood. Keats Kingsley. Thayer Covington. And of course, the baddest of them all, Jude Davenport." She sighs and falls back against her bed like a preteen girl swooning over some boy band.
"Are you going to be alright at the party tonight if you see them? You're not going to throw your panties at them or something, are you?" I tease, throwing a Cheez-It in her direction.
"Don't do that! We'll get ants!" She hurries to clean up the cheese cracker from where it has broken apart on the floor.
"You can't avoid the question that way," I say as she quickly wipes the floor down with some kind of cleaner.
She rolls her eyes and climbs back onto her bed. "I'm not going to freak out. At least, not externally. I may have a mild freak out internally, though. I mean, they are some of the richest, most eligible bachelors on campus. Well, two of them are, anyway. I hear Jude and Keats have girlfriends."
"Where on earth do you hear this stuff?" I ask. Melody doesn’t even have that information yet—at least not to my knowledge—and that means that we’re behind, which is unacceptable.
Evie blushes a pretty pink, which quickly deepens into a deep scarlet red. Whatever this is, she’s truly embarrassed by it. When she doesn’t seem like she’s going to answer, I raise an eyebrow at her and cross my arms over my chest, silently challenging her. Finally, she caves and says, "There may or may not be a TikTok account that's all about sightings of the four of them. I think there's an account on Snapchat too, but I hate how everything disappears after twenty-four hours, or whatever it is."
"You're kidding me," I say, seriously surprised that this escaped Mel's research.
"Nope. BABSightings. It's legit too, and they are always posting stuff. How the hell they always have content, I don't know, but I do know you can send them videos or photos, and they'll post them for you."
"Do you have it on your phone?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
She nods, the blush still not gone from her face. Her phone is more banged up than mine, but that isn't a surprise since I'd only gotten mine a couple of months ago, under the pretense that I needed something better for college. It was more like I needed something better for Mel to be able to access and use on her end. Of course, I hadn’t really given a shit about the phone I got. I’d just bought whatever she wanted me to have—whatever made things easier on her end.
Once Evie logs into her phone and opens the app, she comes over and plops down on my bed next to me. I’m not used to having someone in my personal space. Even Mel and I had our own rooms while she'd been living at home.
Evie hands her phone over, and I’m immediately drawn to the screen. A video of Atlas at the cookout is playing with a caption that reads "The Jock doing his part to feed the freshmen #thejock #babsightings #boysofAscendancebay #boyfriends #hotboyshit". I scroll a little, and after a few more videos of Atlas at the cookout, I see one of Jude, looking grumpy as usual. He’s talking with someone—maybe Keats, but I’m not sure, since I can only see the back of a head. I glance at the caption: "The rockstar looking intense, as usual. Those eyes, though. #therockstar #babsightings #boysofAscendancebae #myfutureboyfriend". It goes on like that, with videos of Keats, who is dubbed the criminal, and Thayer, who is marked as the poet. Clearly, whoever runs the account has an unhealthy level of interest in the guys. Based on the way people are recording them and sending in the videos, it’s also clear the guys are always being watched.
This is definitely going to make things more challenging, but not impossible.
When Evie leaves a little while later to use the bathroom, I take the opportunity to text Mel again. I know she won't be happy with me messaging her so much, but I also know she won't be happy that she's missed something like this damn TikTok account.
Check out @BABSightings on TikTok.
Two little check marks appear next to the message, indicating that she's seen it, and a moment later, it vanishes. I know she's probably fuming mad right now. At least, I would be if it was me.
Evie returns a moment later, entering the room dramatically before stopping in the middle and popping her hands on her hips. She looks me dead in the eye as she says, "If we're going to an APT party tonight, we need to figure out what to wear. And also find some booze, because I think I might faint if I'm sober when I meet the boys."
"And where do you propose we find someone to buy us something to drink?" I ask, chuckling softly.
"I have a cousin that I bet would do it..." She plops down onto her bed and swipes across her phone screen, tapping away before freezing and looking up at me. "Sorry, I didn't ask. Do you drink?"
I smile and nod.
"What's your poison?"
"Tequila." It's the only thing that doesn't remind me of Sampson, and he is the last thing I want to be thinking about right now. I need to be prepared for anything tonight, and having Sampson in my head will just mess with me.
Evie lets out a big breath. "Oh, thank God. I was worried you were going to want to get a case of beer. Much easier to hide liquor bottles than beer cans. Besides, I'm a whiskey girl myself."
"I like whiskey, but only in mixed drinks."
"Wait. Are you saying that you drink tequila straight?" Evie stares, her mouth dropping slightly open as she waits for my answer.
"I mean, with some lime, of course. I'm not some kind of barbarian." My words soothe her slightly. What I don’t want to say is that I was raised to know how to make every classic cocktail under the sun. Or that I can hold my liquor better than most men twice my size. It had all been part of my education—part of Sampson and my father raising me to be a perfect wife who could make any man fall to his knees and worship her, yet feel like a god themselves at the same time. I can be hard as steel and soft as silk. I can bend, endure, and not break because I've already been broken so many times before that it’s next to impossible to do now.
I glance over at the family photo I have sitting on my desk now, thanks to Sampson's delivery. It's almost like I can feel him watching me, judging me, waiting for me to screw up so he can punish me. There are five people in the photo: me, Melody, Alyssa, Father, and Sampson. He's a ubiquitous presence in my life, always there, even when it's just supposed to be family because my father believes he'd never betray us—that he's loyal down to the marrow of his bones, and that, if he is cut, he'll bleed Sterling silver.
I don't have the same certainty.
"Tyson is going to swing by with our presents in an hour or so," Evie says, satisfied by whatever arrangement she and her cousin came to.
"How much do I owe you?" I ask. My family might be dripping in money, but I try to remember that it isn't like that for everyone—something that has become more apparent as I step further outside my family's social circle.
"Nothing. He says it's a 'welcome to college' gift." She grins at me before popping up onto her feet once more and dancing over to her closet. "I can't believe we're going to an APT party! We're freshmen. If you didn't know Atlas, we definitely wouldn't be going. The other girls are going to be so jealous! What this means, though, is that we have to find the perfect outfits. They have to say, ‘I wanted to look cute, but I didn't spend hours debating what to wear for you because I'm a confident young woman who doesn't need your approval.’"
"That's a lot for an outfit to say," I reply as I flop back on my bed. It's definitely not the memory foam I'm used to, and it's half the size of my bed at home as well, but these are the sacrifices I have to make.
Alyssa deserves so much more than this. And I'm going to give it to her, even if she's not here physically to see it anymore. Tonight is just the first step.
As I listen to Evie talk about the merits of halter tops and heels, I zone out, focusing instead on the best way to insert myself into the lives of the most elite men at Welhurst. I know if I try to force it, they’ll only shut me out. I don't particularly want to go the kid sister route, but I will if I have to.
I also don't want to make any decisions before I see how they react to me, but not having a specific plan is wearing on me. I'm not used to so much freedom—not used to Sampson and my father not requiring this, that, and the other from me at a moment's notice.
It's something that Melody doesn't understand. She thinks it's the staff who report to my father, but it's not. He sees everything, knows everything, because he's got ears and eyes in every employee. Not just the house staff, but also the body guards, the grunts, and the factory workers. He controls all of them. Every. Single. Person. They all report to Sampson or my father if something is amiss. It's the only reason that we've been able to survive so long as a family. That, and the alliances my father has with some of the other power players in the city.
He thinks I don't see it, that I'm too busy being his carrot at the end of a string for whoever he's trying to con next, or even that I'm too busy being his deadly secret. So busy that I can't see what he's doing. He's not the only one with eyes and ears, though. I might not have people who report to me, but he's done such an excellent job of making people overlook me most of the time that they have loose lips in my presence.
And this is the part of the plan that not even Melody knows. It's the part I have kept hidden in the darkest part of my heart, where no one has ever been before.
The Sterling family might be afloat in the blood of our enemies right now, but I'm going to sink this ship, even if I have to go down with it. The Boys of Ascendance Bay will pay their pound of flesh for what they did to my sister, but so will my father and Sampson. No one will escape my wrath.
