“So, are you guys dating or what?” Birdie asked, when Allegra came home to their shared bedroom that evening shortly after midnight.
“Dating? Who? What are you talking about?” Allegra asked, blushing slightly as she put her books away. They never did get to declensions. Instead they had spent the evening talking about the merits of growing up in San Francisco versus New York. Allegra, a lifelong Manhattanite, had argued that “the city” was infinitely superior in every way—in cultural offerings, museums, restaurants—while Bendix defended the city by the bay for its foggy weather, inherent beauty, and liberal politics. Neither of them had been able to convince the other.
“You mean me and Ben?” she asked Birdie. “You think we’re a couple?”
“Oh, it’s ‘Ben’ now. Soon you’ll be calling him Benny,” her friend teased, rolling an herbal cigarette. It was the latest fashion. Allegra didn’t mind, except that it stank up the room, and Birdie tended to spray too much air freshener to cover it up during inspection. As a result, their room always smelled like a toilet.
Allegra grimaced. “Ew. Not a chance. We’re friends.”
Her roommate blew a huge smoke ring. “Please, everyone sees how you guys act around each other.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“Besides, you guys look ridiculously perfect together,” Birdie said with a grin. She had heard Allegra’s rants against the “p-word.”
“Good lord!” Allegra shuddered. She just did not see Ben in that way. She liked having someone to talk to, and enjoyed his company. Besides, they could never be together—she could never have feelings for him, not in that way. Birdie was a Red Blood; she didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Seriously? Worse things could happen than to date him. His family just sold their company for like, two billion dollars. Did you see the paper today?” Birdie asked, throwing the Wall Street Journal toward Allegra.
Allegra read the front-page announcement detailing Allied Corporation’s acquisition of the family-run Bendix group of companies and marveled at Ben’s modesty. His mother had a “business meeting,” which was why she couldn’t make it to Parents’ Day. More like a major shareholders’ conference.
“They are seriously loaded. No wonder he was named after his mom’s side of the family. They have all the dough.”
“Birdie, don’t be crass,” Allegra chided. Even at Endicott, it was considered bad form to be too aware of each other’s provenance. But after reading the news, she could not help but like Ben even more. Not because she found out he was wealthy—she never cared too much about money, even though she had never lived without it—but because, given the extreme affluence of his background, he was humble and down-to-earth.
And she had gotten the feeling, after talking to him that evening, that Bendix Chase wouldn’t have minded having a little less of the stuff people cared too much about, if it meant he could have just a little more of the things that really mattered.
FOUR
The Society of Poets and Adventurers
Later that week, Allegra was already asleep when she heard a noise outside her window. She blinked, confused. It was a light, clattering sound. Pebbles. Followed by the sound of giggles. She walked toward the window and opened it. “What’s going on?” she asked, slightly annoyed.
A group of hooded strangers stood underneath her window. In an ominous voice, the tallest one intoned darkly, “Allegra Van Alen, your future awaits you.”
Oh, right. She had forgotten, although Birdie had warned her the other week. It was Tap Night. The night that Endicott’s most prestigious secret society, the Peithologians, inducted its new members. She noticed her roommate’s bed was empty, which meant Birdie was already participating in the night’s festivities since she was of course a member.
Allegra called, “I’ll be right down,” just as another group of hooded students entered her room and put a hood over her head. She was now officially kidnapped.
When her hood was removed, Allegra noticed she was in a clearing in the woods. There was a bonfire raging, and she was kneeling with a group of new initiates.
The hooded leader offered her a golden chalice, filled with a reddish libation. “Drink from the cup of knowledge,” he directed. Their fingers brushed as he handed her the goblet, and Allegra tried not to giggle as she took a sip. Vodka and 7-Up. Not bad.
“You look silly in that robe,” she whispered, for she had recognized his voice the moment he had called her from her window.
“Shhh!” Bendix replied, trying not to laugh as well.
She passed the goblet to the person next to her, wondering who else had been chosen. When all the new members had drunk from the cup, Bendix raised a toast with the glass. “They have consumed the fire of Enlightenment! Welcome to the Peithologians, new Poets and Adventurers! Let us now dance in the woods like the nymphs of Bacchus!” Somewhere in the back, someone banged a gong, and it echoed through the forest.