“I’m not much of a drinker,” I admit. “One bad party in high school will ruin it for life.”
Lexington grunts. “And one good party in college will make you think you’re fucking Hemingway. Perce didnotused to be like this.”
“I’m not like anything!” he says, stomping his foot as we wait for the door to open.
It takes a moment, but then a masculine figure in a lacy maid costume appears, wearing a nondescript white mask that covers most of their face.
They glance at our wrists and then usher us inside, slamming the door behind us. The ballroom is packed, with vast crowds mingling throughout.
Soft piano music drifts from speakers mounted in ceiling corners, and as I look around at the vast ballroom-style floor, I note that all the attendees seem to be similarly dressed—some in masquerade garb and other scanty outfits as they mingle among themselves.
Well, some of them are just mingling. Others are engaging in varying degrees of lewd activities, and my throat grows tight as the sounds of slick flesh meeting and moans float around us.
“What the hell kind of party is this?” I mutter.
Lexington snorts, snatching several champagne flutes from a passing serving tray. “I don’t know, but it looks like fun.”
“Are you sure we should be here?”
“The Delphic Pagesmentioned a rager open to the entire campus, so I don’t see why not.”
“Avernia’s freaky as hell,” Percy says, letting out a low whistle as he takes in a foursome, his eyes riveted to the languid motions as three men thrust in and out of a naked woman at the center ofthe room. “Remember what I told you, Elle? Some of the parties here get raunchy, especially ones thrown by Death’s Teeth. Rumor has it that in order to be initiated, you have to fuck every member and even kill someone at the very end.”
“Jesus Christ,” Lexington mutters. “Now I’m not surewhoseparty this is.”
I hesitate, discomfort crawling across my skin. “Do we have to participate?”
A short patron wearing a mask split in half vertically pauses as they walk by. “Nope, but feel free to watch. They love to put on a show.”
Percy grins, handing me a glass while he drinks his. “See? It’s like a secret sex club or something.”
“Not much of a secret considering how many people are here.” Lexington glances at the champagne warily but decides to swallow it anyway. “Fine, fine. We can stay, but only because I promised to help you forget about the woman who broke your heart earlier.”
Grinning wide, Percy claps him on the shoulder, then moves away from us, drifting closer to the foursome.
I look over at Lexington. “Who broke his heart?”
“Sabrina.”
“Really? I didn’t know he was that into her. I kind of thought he was just teasing.”
“Oh, he’s been nipping at her heels since kindergarten.” Lexington smiles, watching his friend from afar. “It’d be cute if she wasn’t such a dick to him all the time.”
“Maybe he likes that she’s mean.”
Lexington shakes his head, something flashing in his gaze that almost feels like longing in its own right.
“Nah,” he says. “Perce is a soft soul. He just doesn’t know it could be any other way.”
Something heavy settles between us, but before I have the chance to ask what he means, Percy wanders back over, throwing his hands in the air.
“‘I don’t want realism. I want magic!’” he squeals, and the piano music grows louder, as if to drown him out.
“Tennessee Williams,” I say without thinking.
“I knew it!” he shouts, pointing at me. “I knew you’d know. Didn’t I tell you, Lex? I said—I bet Elle can name any playwright with a random quote if they’re popular enough.” He beams at me, ruffling my hair. “You’re so smart, Elle. How’d you get to be so smart?”
“Lack of things to do growing up,” I say, flipping some hair over my shoulder. “Made me develop niche interests.”
