Or…
Or I could stay the full two years at Willow Heights. Maybe some part of me knew I’d say no to the sex deal, and I knew he’d pull the scholarship. That’s why I held myself at a distance, didn’t pry too much into the history of everyone around me. I could have asked Susanna and Quinn. I could have asked Dixie from day one. I could have asked Colt more questions today.
But I didn’t. I was curious, but some part of me thought I wouldn’t be here for long, so it wouldn’t matter. It was better not to hear the full story, not to get invested, not to be part of the community, the school spirit. I honestly never understood what that meant before. It was kind of a joke between me and the people I hung out with.
Rah-rah, shake your pompoms, look at the herd cheering when they’re told, moooo…
We wanted to believe we were above it because we knew we didn’t fit with the people who did that kind of thing. Maybe we knew we were missing out, if only subconsciously, so it was better to make fun than to admit we were on the outside looking in. Today, I caught a glimpse of that. The feeling of togetherness, of pride, of being part of the larger whole. And yeah, there’s a herd mentality component, but maybe that’s not such a terrible thing. Maybe it would be okay to be part of the herd. Together, that herd is strong. It’s always the animal that gets separated from the herd who becomes prey, after all.
MrD: Are you in?
BadApple: Do I have a choice?
MrD: You always have a choice.
BadApple: ok
MrD: Are you in?
BadApple: Yes
MrD: I knew you were a smart girl.
BadApple: But this is the only thing I’m doing. This is the trade. You got me the scholarship, I get you this information. There won’t be any other added tasks later. No pics. No sex.
MrD: Not even a bj?
I swallow hard, remembering my earlier suspicion that this guy’s sons shared the pic with him. Gross. Nothing I can do about it, though.
BadApple: no
MrD: I was kidding.
BadApple: sure u were
MrD: So, let’s talk about this.
BadApple: the answer is no.
MrD: Not that. The assignment. Ready to hear the details?
BadApple: ok
MrD: There’s a secret society at Willow Heights. Most people don’t know about it, or they’ve only heard whispers. By the time you’re done, you’re going to know everything.
A scholarship in return for a badass assignment infiltrating a secret society? Sign me the fuck up. I’d do that shit for free.
Not that I’m going to tell him that.
BadApple: And u will 2
MrD: Exactly. I used to know, but things have changed.
BadApple: Give me all the info u can. I need more to get started.
MrD: The group was founded by the original backers of the school because they felt the parents and new donors were affecting policy too much, and the school was losing sight of its mission. Their sons were still students at the school, and they became the founders of the secret society. They met in what was originally planned as a storm shelter under the school. It was a secret weekly meeting at midnight. They called themselves the Midnight Swans.
I sit forward in my chair, a shiver of excitement going through me. I feel like Lara Fucking Croft—minus the tits. Secret societies? Dungeons under the school? This is literally the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me. Not that I’ve set the bar very high, but still.