AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you trying to become the campus freak?”
I jump to the side, almost tripping over my untied shoelace. I look up to see Sylvia not more than two feet away from me.
Dammit.
“Uh, what’d you say? Sorry, I don’t speak bitch.” She flinches, and I smile inwardly.
“Are you always so foul?” she responds.
Ugh, kinda. “What can I do for you, Sylvia? Clearly you’re not here to invite me to tea and crumpets at the Queen’s palace.”
She walks closer. “Clearly.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Not why I’m here. Curious, more like it.” She sticks out her hand, passing me a tiny card. I’m hesitant to take it. It’s probably laced with poison or something. “Oh, just take it. It’s technically addressed to you anyway. Not that we all haven’t already read it.”
Read what exactly? “What is it?” I reach out and grab the card.
“Of course, we kept the flowers. Being pink and all, it fit best in our house rather than your dungeon dorm room.” I give her my best “get fucked” look. “Let’s just say I didn’t think you had it in you.”
What in the world is she talking about? I open the card and read the handwritten message.
Welcome to Exquisite, Ms. Stone. Your membership and future dedication to my club is more than appreciated.
-D Cross
“What the fuck?” I turn the letter over and back. I read the message again, making sure I’m seeing this right. Why in God’s name did he send me flowers? When did he have time to? And why the fuck did he send them to the house of horrors?
Or whores.
Either way.
I shake my head, looking back at Sylvia.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “So, I guess congratulations are in order. You weren’t lying about getting into those clubs, even though I’m still dying to know how.” She eyes me with contempt.
“Yeah well, you know, someone out there has a fetish for campus freaks.” I toss the card at her, which she barely attempts to catch. “So, great, I fulfilled your silly dare. I look forward to my friend’s initiation into your cult of cunts for the next four years.” I don’t bother to hear her response. I give her my back and start walking up the steps of Haller Hall.
“Not so fast, Plain Jane. We’re not done. Change of plans.”
Jesus, what is it with everyone? I stop and face her.
“I want in.”
“In what? Aren’t you like the Queen Bee of the Pink Palace?”
“No, you dimwit. The club. I want in the club. And you’re gonna make it happen.”
I stare at her in shock. I had to have heard her wrong. “Yeah, I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me. I want in. I want to become a member. Make it happen, or I blackball your bestie. Your choice.”
Am I missing something here? Is it a full moon? Everyone blackmail Jensen week? I look around, checking for hidden cameras, praying I’m being Punk’d and this isn’t for real happening.
Nope.
No cameras.
Just a snotty sorority girl standing in front of me, tapping her ugly ass pink heels. I take the steps down two at a time. I’m in her face so fast, she stumbles backward.
“I fulfilled my stupid dare with you. We’re done. And you ever think to try to threaten me into doing something again, I’ll fucking ruin—”
“Hey, ladies!” We both turn as Christine practically bounces up to us.
Shit.
I take a quick glance at Sylvia, who’s masked her deviance with a fake smile. She’s a loose cannon. I have no idea what she’s truly capable of.
Christine reaches me and gives me a tight hug. “Hey! Missed you yesterday. How was the library?”
Sylvia snickers, catching Christine’s attention. “Hey, Sylvia.” She smiles nervously around her soon-to-be-master. They hug, and Christine steps back, offering me her attention. “So, what are you two chatting about?” She looks from side to side, waiting for one of us to answer.
I open my mouth to tell her Sylvia was just confiding in me about her rapid rash and herpes outbreak on her ass, but Sylvia beats me to the punch.
“Oh, Jensen was just offering to help me with some of our Psych homework. Weren’t you, Jensen?”
Homework, my ass. “Actually, more like black—”
“History,” she cuts me off. “You know, like how some of us will be if we don’t follow instructions?”
She smiles at me, and I narrow my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about murder so much in a twenty-four-hour period. Or ever. Not ever. I take a few seconds to weigh my options. I won’t let someone like Sylvia Who-Cares-What-Her-Last-Name-Is control me. If I don’t stand up to her now, she’ll just come back wanting more. I turn to Christine, ready to confess, tell her what her precious sorority sister is up to, but when I look at her, she’s beaming back at Sylvia.
