Laney
“This is more blacklist stuff,isn’t it?” I said, hand shaking as I held out the envelope.
Adam and Trina still hadn’t responded to my first question yet. They were just standing there staring at me with wide eyes.
They didn’t look scared, though, like they did when I was initially blacklisted. They just seemed shocked.
“It’s okay. Calm down,” Adam finally said, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder. “That M isn’t for murder, and the letter doesn’t have anthrax in it.”
“What is it, then?”
“I think it’s an invitation,” Trina said, brows furrowing.
“To what?”
“The Medusa Society. That’s what the M means,” she said.
“Who or what is the Medusa Society?” I asked, forehead wrinkling.
Adam and Trina exchanged glances. “You know the group of girls I call the Supermodel Club?” Trina said.
“Yes.”
“The Medusa Society is their club. It’s kinda like a school-based secret society for girls.”
“Oh, right. I think I remember you saying something about that a while ago.”
She nodded. “They have their own room in the north wing of Royal Hall,” she said. “They hardly ever invite people to join them, though.”
“Why would they invite me, then? I’ve barely spoken to any of them.”
Trina shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess it could be because you have a few things in common with them.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for one, you’re drop dead gorgeous,” Adam cut in, arching an eyebrow. “And you’re a scholarship student, too.”
“Most of them are scholarship students,” Trina added. “Some aren’t, but even then, they’re from the poorer families in Royal Falls.”
I cocked my head slightly to the left. “I’m guessing ‘poor’ has a very different meaning in this town than it does to everyone else.”
“Yeah. They’re more like upper middle class. But in Royal Falls, that’s poor,” Adam said, rolling his eyes.
“So it’s a club that supports lower-income students, then?”
My friends shrugged. “No idea,” they said in unison.
I stared at them, mouth hanging open. “You don’t know what they do?”
“No one does except them,” Adam replied. “They’re always doing their own thing in their clubroom. Half the time they don’t even bother going to the cafeteria for lunch.”
“Some rumors have gone around about them,” Trina interjected. “But like I said the other week, they’re all really nice girls. I wouldn’t believe anything bad about them.”
“What sort of rumors?” I asked.
“Just dumb stuff started by Jessica Fitzgerald,” she said, rolling her eyes upward. “Last year she tried to tell everyone that they’re crazy Satanists who sacrifice babies every full moon.”
“Yikes. Couldn’t she come up with something believable?” I said.