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“Hey!” he exclaims as he places himself back in front of me. “Damn, you’re really not kidding, Tucker was right.”
I let out a mocking laugh. Well, you learn a lot in a few seconds…
“Did you talk about me?”
“Of course we did. It’s not every day that a pretty redhead comes into my life,” he says, putting his hand theatrically against his heart.
“Iris. My name is Iris.”
He nods, suddenly very serious.
“I’ll write it down. I will use this information wisely.”
TJ hands me a paper with brightly colored words printed on it.
“What’s this?” I ask as I take it.
“That, my dear, is your invitation to push through the gates of hell.”
My eyes land on the flyer:
The Pack has decided to expand, who wants to try
to join it?
“Really?” I asked. “Does this have anything to do with that guy who was acting like a wolf earlier? Let me tell you, that was more ridiculous than anything else. And what’s this “Pack” thing anyway? Some kind of fraternity where all excesses are allowed?”
TJ gives me a simple wink before answering, “You’re a newbie. The Pack…it’s just the most influential group in the entire college. Look at all these kids,” he says, glancing around at the people around us. “They all dream of being in it. Anyone can try out, but the spots are tough.”
I don’t really know what to say to him. I stare at him skeptically. Fraternities, sororities, and the like also exist in Portland. Their parties are insane. But I get the impression that Denver’s are limitless.
“You have to come,” TJ continues with an evil smile. “Next week.”
I stare at his departing figure and wonder why everyone wants to join this fraternity. I finally glance at my watch, hurrying to my classroom.
The students are crowded in front of the door. Some exclaim in surprise as they enter, others laugh.
When I enter the lecture hall, I hold my breath. The huge room is filled with cotton balls…and hair? I bend down to pick up a soft little ball.
“It’s sheep’s wool!” exclaims a girl, on my right, cheerfully.
Disgusted, I drop the ball on the ground. But where have I landed? I thought the atmosphere in Portland was crazy, but the one in Denver is way beyond it.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I ask the girl.
She stares at me with big eyes, as if I was stupid.
“The wolves are coming!”
“Then what? What does that mean?”
She approaches me and says in a tone of confidence, “It means that the debauchery starts and that nobody is safe from being bitten.”
But what’s their problem? I ignore the show and start walking up the stairs, determined not to get into this silly little game, whatever it is. Yet, as I see all eyes converge on the front of the lecture hall, I can’t help but turn around.
Which one of you are we going to eat first?
I barely have time to digest the message written in chalk on the board when I feel a presence behind me. A look burns the back of my neck.
