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I’m surprised when she agrees, so I don’t waste time pulling her out of the room and guiding her downstairs. None of these people are her friends, and I’m getting more and more convinced that only a few of them are mine. But if you’re going to be lonely no matter what, might as well be it around other people.
Anya pops up out of nowhere and latches onto Gigi’s arm. “Beer Pong tournament in the dining room. Let’s go, bitch.”
I push Gigi forward when she hesitates. “Go ahead.”
She needs the distraction, even if she refuses to admit it.
As soon as she disappears into the crowd, Nolan pops up at my elbow. He was probably waiting until she walked away.
“Club Havoc, huh?”
I turn to him with a sigh. “I assume you haven’t been there?”
Nolan eyes widen, a new respect burning in them. “You have?”
“My father has a permanent office there. I’ve been a few times. It really isn’t anything special.”
“Must be nice to share a last name with one of the founding members.” He tries for a scoff, but there is way too much jealousy in his tone for him to make it work. “I guess that’ll be you one day.”
“The place is full of old men smoking cigars and drinking liquor while they take business calls. It’s about as exciting as an office building.”
“But not when they have parties,” he returns. “I’ve heard all kinds of crazy things about what happens there.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
His gaze is faraway, a lascivious smile twisting his lips. “I hear they don’t let their cocktail waitresses wear anything more than a thong and pasties. Like the strip club, but tasteful.”
Because there is nothing more tasteful than some poor girl paying her college tuition by serving drinks in her underwear. “I guess we’re going to find out.”
“Goddamn, life is good.” He glances down at my empty hands. “You’re not drinking?”
We hadn’t made it back to the bar before Gigi got pulled away by Anya. “I was just about to get something.”
He raises a red Solo cup to his lips and drains it. “Let’s go. You can tell me everything you know about Club Havoc on the way.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “After you.”
My gaze moves over the dining room as we pass it. I don’t see the signature flash of blonde hair in there, but the house is packed nearly wall-to-wall. Gigi is with Anya, so I tell myself not to worry. Anya can be annoying when she wants to be, but she has a better head on her shoulders than most people here. Keeping track of Gigi’s every movement isn’t something I need to do anymore. The alumni aren’t out to silence her and we don’t have to hide.
But that doesn’t explain why I still feel this nervous edge, like something terrible is about to happen.
Maybe it’s just that Nolan is annoying the hell out of me. As we slowly push through the crowd on our way to the kitchen, he won’t stop prattling about Club Havoc. The place isn’t some high-classed whorehouse where virgins are auctioned off. It’s a gentleman’s club full of old men drinking expensive liquor and complaining about their wives. It isn’t anywhere near as exciting as Nolan wants to make it out to be.
It’s hard to remember that I used to think any of this shit was a decent way to pass the time. Strolling through these parties with a random girl on my arm, lording my status over the peons who attend this school, used to be enough to chase the boredom away. Now, it’s hard to remember how I got through four years of it.
“I think you’re right though,” Nolan continues, still in the conversation he doesn’t realize he is having with himself. “It’ll be better if there are no pasties.”
I open my mouth to reply with something snarky, but I don’t get the chance.
Someone screams, a terrified girl from the sound of it.
“What was that?” Nolan asks, sounding bewildered.
But I’m already pushing past him and forcing my way through the churning crowd. The party is loud, but that wasn’t the sort of sound a girl makes when she is having fun.
The scream comes again, practically blood-curdling in its intensity.
Evangeline.
