“What is that?” he asks.
“Aspirin,” I lie.
He forcefully turns my wrist so he can see the blatant writing on the pill that says what it is, and then gives me a stern look. “Drop it.”
“What are you guys talking about over here?” Wes cuts in, looking pointedly at Asher’s grip on my wrist. Asher lets go and I quickly pop the pill into my mouth and wash it down with a drink.
“Sloane’s poor decision-making,” Asher grits out, looking at me.
“I’d say,” Wes remarks, still looking at Asher heatedly.
Asher meets his gaze. “Do you have something you want to say, Wes?”
“No,” he replies coolly.
“Then can I talk to Sloane in private?” Asher asks.
Wes gives me another pleading look before turning and walking away. I watch him go, and Asher turns my chin up to him, backing me up against the wall and closing in on me. “Go to the bathroom and throw up that pill,” he says, with only seriousness in his voice.
“What? No.” I jerk my head away from his grip.
He grabs me again, this time a bit harder, turning my face back to his. “Then stop drinking.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say defiantly up at him.
“Sawyer, I’m not watching both you and Peterson tonight. I’m telling you now, I will leave you to deal with him yourself tonight if you get too fucked-up.”
“That’s not our deal,” I say, and I can already feel my body starting to relax.
“You’re right, our deal was that we both stay sober. Now you’re about to be double fucked-up. Where did you even get that?”
“I needed it to relax, okay? You’re the one constantly telling me to, so now I am. Don’t be such a buzzkill.”
Asher steps away from me with his hands raised. “Fine, do whatyou want. Don’t forget we’re meeting Sam by the founder statue ten minutes before midnight. And be coherent.”
At eleven thirty I tell my friends that Asher and I have a party we have to stop at real quick. Annica scoffs in annoyance, saying a group costume means we need to be together as a group. But I’m three drinks and a Xanax deep, so I only smile and pat her on the head, blissfully uncaring.
Asher and I walk up to Sam, who stands at the base of the founder statue with his arms crossed, looking around. He hands us two masquerade-looking masks.
“Oh, cute,” I say, putting mine on.
Asher just holds his and looks back at Sam. “No one is supposed to know who goes to these parties,” Sam clarifies. Asher sighs and puts it on.
“And the blindfolds?” Asher asks.
“Just put your hands on my shoulders and close your eyes. I’ll lead you in.”
Sam starts to lead us, looking back occasionally to make sure our eyes are closed. I know that only because I’m squinting just enough to still see a little bit. He leads us to the back of one of the campus buildings, though I can’t tell which one, and through a door, then down a set of stairs and a hallway until we’re stopped under a stone archway. Sam unlocks the door, and it opens to darkness.
“There’s going to be a lot of stairs,” he says.
“Can I open my eyes to go down them?” I ask.
“In a minute,” he says, leading us in and closing the door behind us. “Okay, go ahead.”
I open my eyes fully to see stone stairs that descend in a spiral. Sam uses his phone light to guide us down. Five minutes later we’re at the bottom. The staircase opens to a hallway, lit by torches. Armored knight uniforms stand before the stone, as if they’re guarding the place. I grab the mask of one as we walk up and move it as if he speaks.
In my best British accent I make it say, “Welcome to the Knights of Pembroke secret socie—” Its arm juts up to grab my hand. “Ah!” I jump back to Asher.
