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“I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of dick, Amelia, but I’d prefer you didn’t see mine.”
“Shy?”
I stare at her, and she says nothing. After about a minute of neither of us speaking, she throws her hair over one shoulder.
“Fine!” Amelia then stomps out of my room, slamming the door.
Checking my cell phone, there are no missed messages, and the time is 2:16 p.m. I’ve slept for over eight hours. I put my feet on the floor and stand. Some of my muscles are sore from last night’s exertions. With my arms over my head, I stretch and yawn. Today is crucial. I need to sell the story to the dean. If he doesn’t believe me, I could find myself at the bottom of the bay or worse.
Before I go anywhere with Amelia, I need another shower. It’s all in my head I know, but I feel like I’m still covered in Hank’s blood.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I open the door of my dorm room and find Amelia talking to John in hushed tones. They both stop and look at me.
“I’m going for a shower.”
Amelia shrugs, and John’s lips turn down at the corners. He never struck me as being part of the Society, but I guess it’s the point of a secret society—you never know who’s involved.
Walking past them, I go into the communal bathroom at the end of the hall. Thankfully, no one is in there. I do what I need to do, calm my nerves, and then walk back to my room. Amelia is sitting on my bed waiting for me.
“All pretty now?”
“Where’s your friend?” I ask as I pull clothes out of the drawers.
“Who?” she asks innocently.
“John.”
“He’s no friend of mine.”
I stop what I’m doing and stare at her. There’s a look of disdain on her perfectly made-up face.
“You two seemed pretty cozy outside.”
“We all do what we’re asked to do.”
“And do youdoJohn?”
For a moment, her façade slips as she shakes her head and looks vulnerable. “God no! There’s not enough money or power in the world to make me touch that, that… thing.”
This surprises me. John has never struck me as anything other than ordinary. A boot licker, a brown nose, but Amelia’s distaste means he’s a whole lot more.
I open my closet door so she can’t see me and change into my clothes, then I run a brush through my hair, and I’m ready to go.
“You ready?” I ask.
Waving a hand in the air as she stands, Amelia says, “I was born ready.”
Chuckling at her, I open the door to my room, and we make our way down the stairs. John is in the common room, cell phone firmly attached to his ear. He nods at Amelia as we walk out into the sunshine.
He’s someone I’m going to have to keep under surveillance, someone to be careful of, and someone I definitely should never trust.
Amelia walks ahead of me as we exit the elevator to the dean’s office. Her enthusiasm at delivering me to him is palatable—anyone would think she’d won the lottery. She raps her knuckles on his door, waits a moment, then twists the handle.
The dean is on the telephone. He holds up a finger and continues to talk. I walk in, past Amelia, and sit. Not in the same chair as last night but one of his leather couches that faces the windows overlooking the campus. Amelia stands near me but doesn’t sit. In fact, she looks like she doesn’t know what to do. Unlike me, she’s not a legacy. Amelia is smart, comes from money, and I’m sure the Scorpio Society finds her useful but also expendable. Her family isn’t powerful, only rich, and girls like her are a dime a dozen.
The dean ends his call, and we both look at him. He smiles at Amelia and walks around his desk. He puts both hands on her shoulders and beams down at her.
“Thank you so much, Amelia. That will be all.”
