CHAPTER Five
I should have known that Elite wouldn’t do anything half ass and that a college dance and welcome party was anything but that in their eyes. It may as well been prom, or a coronation ball, or the Oscars. Seriously.
The auditorium had holograms playing across the ceiling and dancing along the walls. The music played to the shapes on the wall and a music video of some band was playing toward the far wall where the dance floor was located.
Everything was in black light and I half expected someone famous to pop out on stage and start a concert.
“Cool, huh?” Monroe nudged me. “Let’s get something to drink.”
I followed her to the food and couldn’t close my mouth even if I wanted to. Everything was in ice. And I mean everything. Tons of desserts I’d never seen before were placed on and around ice sculptures. Toward the end of the table was a type of blue waterfall with glasses lined around it.
“Elixir of the gods,” Monroe yelled above the music. She had two plates in hand and had piled on pieces of chocolate-covered fruit and desserts in no time. We made our way toward the blue stuff. She picked up two champagne glasses and filled them full.
Maybe it was some sort of punch?
We found a table and sat.
“Try it.” She pointed to the punch and grinned.
It looked harmless. I took a big swig and began coughing wildly.
“What? They don’t have alcohol in Wyoming?” An irritating voice said from behind me.
The four Elect were standing right next to our table. Each of them smiling at my misfortune.
“Yes, but when you drink underage you get arrested, smart ass.” I put the glass down and grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry. At least I knew that was safe.
“There is no law here,” Nixon said, pulling out the chair on my other side. “And if there was a law, I’d be the sheriff, judge, and jury.”
“Good for you.”
I knew the rules. I patted him on the arm anyway.
Much to Monroe’s amusement. She chuckled next to me.
Tex held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Monroe blushed and took his hand. “Don’t kill my brother, Trace.”
“I will try to control my urges.” I saluted.
“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t.” Chase plopped down next to me and smirked.
“Leave!” Nixon yelled this. Both Phoenix and Chase left the table.
“Why’d you do that?” I gave him a pointed look.
“Because he shouldn’t be flirting with you.” Nixon shrugged and plucked a strawberry off my plate.
I felt myself blush. “He wasn’t flirting.”
“Yes, he was.” Nixon stole another strawberry.
“No.” I smacked his hand sending the strawberry to the floor. “He wasn’t. He was just being nice, you should try it.”
“Sweetheart, I can be nice to you. Believe me. I can be so nice you won’t know what hit you. But is that what you really want? For me to be nice?” His breath smelled like strawberries as it trickled across my face. I licked my lips and forced myself to look away from his piercing gaze.
“Here.” He held out a strawberry in his hand.
I reached for it, but he pulled back. “Tsk, tsk. Allow me.”
He held it out again. I groaned and leaned forward.
“Open.”
“No.” I grit my teeth.
“Then no strawberry.”
“I think I’ll survive.” I jerked away from him and stood. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.
“Sit.”
I did.
“I don’t want to make your life hell. You know that, right? I don’t want you to cry to sleep every night or curse me every morning. Know that you make your own choices. You create your own destiny. And baby, I have the keys. So either play by my rules, or don’t. The choice is yours.”
“Why does it matter anyways? Either way I could never trust you.”
His eyes flickered before he broke his gaze with mine. “Trust is like love. It doesn’t exist. It’s a fairytale society feed us in order to get us to conform. I don’t expect you to trust me. I expect you to follow the rules. Rules keep you safe.”
“And if I don’t?”
He stood and dropped the strawberry on the plate. “Then you will be forcing my hand, and the last thing I want is to hear stories from my sister about how you cry yourself to sleep every damn night just because you couldn’t follow a few simple guidelines.”
I swallowed. “Fine.”
He smirked and straightened his tie. “I knew we’d understand one another… eventually.”
“I’m not agreeing with you. I just knew that would be the quickest way to get you to leave.”
Nixon was deathly silent and then he reached up and touched my cheek. I fought against every instinct to slap him. My treacherous body was starved for touch, for attention. I missed my grandma. I missed my grandpa. I wanted someone to hug me and tell me what to do. But I was alone.
I shuddered.
“Dance with me,” he commanded.
I opened my mouth to deny him, but he was already leading me toward the dance floor.
People gaped as a slow song came on and Nixon pulled me into his arms. He didn’t say much. Neither did I. Instead, I began to shake because I knew. I knew it had already begun. I challenged him and he was going to make me pay. He was going to make my life hell. I didn’t know how or when, but I knew he would strike, and it would be where it hurt most.
Right when I began to relax, just as the song was coming to an end, Nixon pushed me away. I stumbled but otherwise stayed on my feet.
The music stopped.
Great.
“What?” Nixon yelled and then laughed. “Are you insane?”
Clueless, I looked around me then back at him.
“You think I would actually sleep with someone like you? What type of girl are you anyways? Do they do things different out on the farm?”
I felt my face turn bright red.
“Oh they must, huh?” Nixon folded his arms across his chest. “Trust me, Farm Girl. I don’t care how much makeup you put on, or how expensive your clothes may be. I don’t even give a rat’s ass that half the student body likes you right now. You are charity. I wouldn’t even screw you if you paid me. So, the answer is no. And next time you feel like showing up to one of my school’s parties, at least have the decency to wear some new shoes.”
I broke. I lunged for him, but strong arms held me back. I didn’t want them to see me cry. I didn’t know what else to do. I was shaking so hard that I thought I would pass out.
“Shhh…” Monroe said in my hair. “Tex, let’s get her back to the room.”
He nodded and soon Chase fell into step with us.
“Get away from me!” I screamed at them, but instead of leaving, Tex and Chase walked on either side of me. And then I realized why.
People were attempting to throw food at my head. But the minute the guys offered their support, people stopped and watched us leave the party.
Nixon was going to be pissed. But I didn’t care. I was so incredibly ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I would fall for anything that guy said. And most of all, angry that he would make fun of my grandma’s shoes. The very same shoes that gave me confidence today.
We walked in silence back to the dorm.
The guys didn’t say anything. They didn’t joke around. And Monroe wouldn’t stop cursing her brother.
Finally, they made it to the elevators. I panicked. I didn’t want to use my one elevator pass just because I was embarrassed and ashamed and a little bit pissed.
Chase pulled out a shiny black card and swiped it across the elevators. I’m sure his card had all kinds of unlimited access on it. We all walked in. Even the boys.
I had thought everyone worthwhile was at the welcome party.
I thought wrong.
A few doors on my floor opened. It was like the minute they opened and saw who was escorting me, a surge of estrogen hit the fan, causing giggling to break out around the entire right wing.
Girls whispered, “That’s Chase and Tex! What are they doing here? So hot! So damn sexy! Chase, Chase!” One girl started chanting his name and I fought the urge to yell at her. Clearly I was dealing with a lot of emotions right now.
Monroe opened the door to my room. The guys shuffled in. I sat on my bed and waited for the yelling to start.
Monroe moved to my feet and slid off my grandma’s shoes. “He’s an ass. I know I shouldn’t defend him, but if he would have known they were your grandma’s shoes…”
Chase looked at the shoes then at me. “I don’t get it. What’s so important about—”
“—She’s dead, you a*shole! And they’re vintage, and she left them with Trace, okay? They’re like the nicest shoes she owns!”
Chase was silent. His piercing green gaze held mine for a while before he cursed and left the room. Tex threw his hands into the air and followed him out. Monroe locked the door behind them.
“Guess this means war, huh?” I tried to smile.
“I’ll talk to him.” Monroe didn’t look so sure about that idea. She paced in front of me. “I never thought he’d take it this far. He’s never taken it this far. People are too afraid of the Elect to do anything, or say anything.”
“They aren’t gods.”
Monroe laughed bitterly. “No, they’re much worse. At least Greek gods stayed up on Olympus where they belonged. Ours haunt us here at school, as if college isn’t bad enough, right?”
“He’ll tire of me.”
“That’s the thing.” Monroe started stripping. I would kill for that woman’s body. She grabbed a shirt that said sexy and slipped it on, along with some pajama bottoms. “He usually threatens the people who don’t conform and then that’s that. If they challenge him, they usually get kicked out of school. Only one other kid challenged him and was bullied out of here, but everyone hated him anyways. I mean, Nixon’s an ass, but he protects everyone. He’s like the godfather around these parts.”
“And that makes me… what?”
Monroe chewed her lip. “I don’t know.” She nodded to my suitcase. “Got any pajamas in there?”
“Fingers crossed they weren’t stolen,” I joked.
Monroe walked over and started helping me sort through my suitcase. “It’s okay to cry you know. I won’t tell anyone. For the record, I think you’re really brave.”
I felt the tears then. The choking feeling you get when you try super hard to hold back all the emotion and the headache that almost always surely follows. I nodded and broke eye contact.
“Hey, why don’t I loan you some pajamas, then you can just go to bed right away, okay? We’ll put away your clothes tomorrow after class.”
I groaned. “Ugh, class.”
“Look on the bright side.” Monroe threw me some shorts and a tank. “At least you won’t have to endure Nixon. He shouldn’t be in all of your classes, maybe two. If you’re lucky, one.”
“I’ll wish on a shooting star,” I muttered.
“Night, Boots.” Monroe laughed and turned off the light to her side of the room.
I threw on the shorts and tank top. My eyes landed on the box from grandma. I sat cross-legged on the bed and opened it.
Monroe was right. It was okay to cry. Grandma’s happy smile stared back at me through a picture we had taken last summer. I touched the glass and allowed myself a few selfish tears. What would her advice be? What would she tell me?
“Keep your head high. Ain’t nothing to look at on the ground,” I mumbled her favorite phrase and laughed through my tears. Tomorrow would be hard, but I was chosen, I was here, and I was going to earn it. Nixon better watch his back because I, Tracey Rooks, was here to stay.