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That’s part of the reason I’m here tonight. Because a few weeks ago, when she barged in on me—after Michael Machiani and his buddies had jumped me because my father was a prosecuting attorney in a racketeering case against his uncle—Eloise LeBlanc called me the “A” word. And I still need to get that out of my system.
The other reason, though, is rivalry.
Historically, there’s all manner of pissing contests between the four student clubs at Knightsblood. These days, Para Bellum and The Reckless are on fairly friendly terms—what with Gabriel being the head of the former and me of the latter.
This school year, the biggest contentiousness seems to be between The Reckless and The Order. I think it initially started with the football team’s quarterback, a guy who happens to be a member of The Order, being replaced by Paolo Cortillo, a Brazilian cartel heir who’s a member of The Reckless. It doesn’t help that I think Ansel Albrecht is a raging douchebag and a fucking predator.
Back to Eloise. By now, it’s a number of things: the fact that she pissed me the fuck off with that “adoption” slap, the fact that she is now a pledge member of The Order, and don’t get me started on the water bottle incident the other day.
I was in the gym, shadowboxing with a practice bag until my arms felt like they were going to fall off. There were a number of The Order members in the gym at the time, including Eloise.
I didn’t think anything of it until I was done with my workout and grabbed my water bottle—the kind that football players or boxers use, where you squeeze the bottle to squirt a stream of water into your mouth.
Which is what I did, eagerly gulping it down and letting it trickle down my chin and neck.
Until the whole gym erupted in laughter.
That’s when I turned to glance in the mirror and realized my entire mouth, all of my teeth, my chin, neck, and front of my workout shirt were now dyed bright blue.
Honestly, if she’d just kept her mouth shut, there’s a chance I’d never have known it was her. But it was the eager way Eloise stepped forward and gleefully crowed “You look like you went down on a Smurf!” in that musical French accent of hers before looking hopefully at Ansel, as if searching for validation, that gave her away.
That’s actually what pissed me off the most. I could give a fuck about a blue chin for a day or two. I simply don’t care. It was a club-related rivalry prank.
What I do care about is the craven, pathetic search for validation I saw in Eloise’s eyes when she looked at that fuckhead. What makes it worse is that I don’t even get why that part pissed me off the most.
Anyway, that’s how I guessed it was her who put dye in my water bottle. The half empty package of “anime blue” hair color that I found later that night after breaking into her gym locker confirmed it.
Which brings us to now.
Eloise might be a new pledge of The Order, but she won’t move into the club mansion until next year. Until then, I’m sure she considers herself lucky to have been placed in Wellington House, the dorm known for each two-person room having its own ensuite bathroom. Maybe her French Mafia king of a father paid extra to make sure his princess ended up here, I don’t know.
Whatever. She’s not going to think of it as lucky after tonight. Not after I’m done with my plan.
You look like you went down on a Smurf.
I pause at the half-open third-floor window of Wellington House. My head slips under and then through, my eyes and ears scanning the quiet bathroom attached to Eloise’s room that she shares with Demi Romano.
I’ve got their schedules and I know neither of them is home. Demi’s at soccer practice for another two hours, and Eloise is in a calculus study group at the library for another forty-five minutes.
After that, she’ll come back here for her usual cup of decaf tea, shower, and hour of studying in bed before she turns out the light.
It’s that second step of her routine that’s going to bite her in the ass tonight.
Slipping into the bathroom, I momentarily frown at the light on inside the dorm room itself, past the slightly open bathroom door, but I shrug it off. They must have left a light on. Again, I have their schedules down to a tee.
I move to the shower, opening the glass door and slipping into the stall before reaching up to the showerhead. It unscrews easily, and I grin as I pull the big packet of hair dye—anime blue, because irony is hilarious—out of my back pocket. The contents get dumped in before I screw it back in place.
I look like I went down on a Smurf, huh? Well, Eloise, after your shower, you’re going to look like you got bukkaked by about thirty of them.
I can shrug off the water bottle thing, because I don’t give a shit. But Eloise LeBlanc very much does give a shit. She already walks around campus like a spoiled, bratty little princess. Add in being a new pledge to one of the coveted and exclusive student clubs? And being a clear favorite of Ansel Albrecht?
Yeah, that’s got her sitting tall on that high horse of hers. And what I’m about to do will humiliate her.
I grin darkly.
It will also almost definitely mean she cancels on Ansel, who, I have it on good authority, has invited Eloise to “study with him” tomorrow night. The predatory little fuck.
I’m about to head back to the window and make my exit when I hear it and freeze.
