The entire area had been enclosed by flickering torches and braziers. It looked magical, but every detail served a specific purpose.
Maintenance staff circulated with trays piled high with food and flutes of Champagne. A few looked up when we entered and snuck a moment of eye contact before quickly looking away again. A few teachers milled around, and we couldn’t risk them ruining our plan. We ducked behind the stage, following strings of fairy lights through a tunnel of vines into the gym.
I gasped as we stood in the doorway and gazed up at the space – the gym had been transformed into a shimmering outer space landscape. Glitter covered the walls, throwing prisms of iridescent light against the backdrop of Cyclopean architecture decorated with flaming sigils. Silver runners crossed the tables, perfectly offsetting the matte-black crockery and centerpieces of green alien tentacles. One corner had become the bridge of a ship, with flickering buttons and computer screens. The decoration committee had truly outdone themselves.
We’d chosenBack to the Futureas our theme – Quinn’s idea. I think he’d imagined 80s movie trash and leg warmers everywhere, but Courtney had given everything her Midas touch and turned the gym into a classy spacey nightclub. She was talking about getting into event planning when she got her new life.
I wondered if the Eldritch Club would appreciate the symbolism.
Probably not.
A faint tinge of the rotting smell followed us as we headed toward our table. I guessed the horrors in this room were etched too deep for a little disinfectant and some flowers to hide. I glanced up at the ceiling again.
Is that a scritching I hear, or did I just imagine it?
Scritch-scritch-scritch.
Excellent. The rats were in place. Everything was ready. All we needed was our final sacrifice.
We’d decided to have a little graduation party early in the day, so the students had this opportunity to celebrate before the adults got here and therealparty began. Our own private celebration, the ending of one chapter, the opening of another.
The buffet groaned under the weight of delicious-smelling foods. My stomach growled. That poor girl in me that never wanted to overlook an opportunity for a free meal took over, and I descended, snapping up a handful of potato chips and tiny salmon quiches. The best last meal I could hope for.
“Let’s dance.” Quinn’s fingers rested on the small of my back as he led me toward the dance floor. As soon as we got amongst the other couples, his stiffness evaporated – he squeezed my arm and twirled me beneath his, then back the other way until I was dizzy and laughing. He smiled faintly, but couldn’t bring himself to laugh.
We dipped and twirled and whizzed between the other dancers. I was supposed to feel apprehensive, to be mourning all I was about to lose. But instead, I’d never felt freer. As we fluttered about like dragonflies, Quinn stretched out a lazy leg just as Courtney spun past on Derek’s arm. She tripped over the hem of her dress and fell against him, giving Quinn the middle finger over Derek’s shoulder. We all broke into uncontrollable giggles.
“This dance thing is actually quite fun,” I said as Quinn and I returned to our table. Trey and Greg sat together, both of them clutching long-stemmed glasses of something pink and sparkling while they talked in low voices about what might happen tonight.
I dropped down between them. “If you two keep looking so glum, you’ll give the game away.”
“Right.” Trey rested his hand on his cheek. His shoulders tightened.
He wasn’t the only one waiting, milling. Tension tugged in the air – a breathless, palpable anticipation that tinged each conversation with nervous laughter. Everyone was waiting, tensing.
It was a special day, after all. Graduation day. A day no Miskatonic Prep student ever expected to see.
Across the room, a group hovered in the doorway while the ushers took coats and stoles. My breath caught in my throat as Vincent Bloomberg glided into the room with Tillie’s mother on his arm. Behind them were more Eldritch Club members, resplendent in glittering gowns and pristine suits that couldn’t mask their aging, frail bodies. They fanned out around the floor, elbowing students out of the way so they could get to the bar.
The parents had shown up.
Of course they did. We knew how to pull their strings like puppets. We knew what they cared about more than anything else, and it wasn’t their children.
We’d hit them where it hurt – their money, their looks, their reputations. Which meant that we had power over them. They knew it, or they wouldn’t be here.
Trey ground his teeth together. “They’re already celebrating,” he hissed. “My dad’s got something planned, and we’ve walked right into it. We need to—”
“Ssssh. They won’t be celebrating for long.” I held out my hand. “You and me, we’re dancing. You need to calm down.”
I pulled Trey onto the dance floor. Unlike Quinn, he didn’t joke around or even seem to notice other students brushing against him. He clung to me like I was the only thing holding him upright, his nails digging into my naked arm.
The back of my neck itched, conscious of eyes watching my every move. When Trey spun me, I searched the faces in the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Vincent standing near the entrance, one foot placed behind him like he was ready to run, a glass in his hand but never once touching his lips.
“I don’t like this.” Trey’s teeth grazed my collarbone as he swung me around the dance floor. “It’s too much like last time.”
He meant last time he’d been to a dance in the gym, when the parents had burned the whole place down.
“It won’t be,” I promised. “I saw your dad. He’s nervous.”
