Page 32 of Cruel Riches

6

Alexis

“I am so ready for this!”

Ruby let out an excited squeal as she fluffed up the sides of her hair to give it a wavy ‘just rolled out of bed’ look.

“Me too,” I said, linking my arm with hers so she didn’t trip over her own feet as she focused on her hair instead of where she was going. She was wearing five-inch stilettos, and she’d pre-gamed a couple of shots back in her dorm while we were getting dressed, so it was a miracle she hadn’t fallen over already.

We were all wearing green to signify our available status—a tight green t-shirt with black jeans for Laurel, a strapless mint-green dress for Ruby, and a short emerald green wraparound dress for me. Ruby had promised us there would be a ton of cute single guys at the party, and honestly, I couldn’t wait to meet one of them. After all the stress of the last few weeks, I could use a fun, mindless hookup.

“It’s not far from here,” Ruby told us as we headed past towering Gothic buildings and sweeping lawns, darkened by night’s paintbrush. “They have their own street and their own park. Isn’t that wild?”

When she said that, I pictured a lane with five houses on one side and five on the other, all close together with a small park on the far end.

Reality was far more extravagant.

On the northern side of Blackthorne’s vast campus, a road lined with wrought-iron streetlamps led up to a grassy mound where a colossal statue of one of the college founders stood. From the left and right of that, another road swung in a massive circle around a lush park with trimmed hedges, neat gardens, and a large central gazebo.

The circle wasn’t just big enough to fit ten regular-sized fraternity and sorority houses, all jam-packed next to each other… it was big enough to fit ten estates. The Victorian and Queen Anne-style houses on the expansive properties were sprawling four-story monstrosities with turrets, wraparound porches, and widow’s walks. Each one could probably house an entire village of people if they needed to.

“I don’t even want to imagine the dues they have to pay,” Laurel said, staring at the houses with wide eyes.

Ruby laughed and led us over to a lit-up house on the left, where the front door and side entrances were open. Loud music and raucous laughter spilled out into the night.

We stepped inside to see priceless paintings on the walls, intricate crown moldings, and chandeliers suspended from the ceilings with a mixture of crystals and skull-shaped glass pendants. In the cavernous living area, just past the expansive foyer and curving double staircase, another glass skull pendant hung from the ceiling, five times larger than all of the others.

The place was teeming with people, all dressed in shades of green, yellow or red. I was pleased to note that green was the most popular color amongst the guys.

Laurel, Ruby and I weaved through clusters of bodies, making our way over to the far side of the main party space. A long table with drinks had been set up there—premixed cocktails, beers, liqueurs, mixers, and several large punch bowls. There was even a steaming barrel of spiced mulled wine on the floor beside the table.

On the other side of the table was a large picture window that overlooked the backyard. A massive pool and Jacuzzi took up part of the yard, and little skull-shaped lights had been hung above them. Shirtless guys and bikini-clad girls were cavorting in the water, screaming and splashing each other.

I turned back to face the table, where Ruby was ladling mulled wine out of the barrel into red cups. “Enjoy!” she said, handing the cups to Laurel and me.

We stayed in our own little cluster for a while, chatting and watching the chaos around us as we sipped on our delicious warm drinks.

A group of guys—all tall, tanned, and muscular—were standing across the room, raising fists in the air and chanting while one of them drummed his free hand against the side of a wooden cabinet.

“Dulce periculum! Dulce periculum!” they chanted in low, menacing tones, in what I guessed was Latin.

Their faces were flushed, their eyes glazed. With the rhythm of the chanting and drumming near the skull pendants hanging from the ceiling, I felt like I was watching some sort of satanic ritual being performed.

“What are they doing?” I asked Ruby, who was entranced by the sight as well.

“I think it’s one of the fraternity mottos,” she whispered back to me. “Each fraternity here has a few of them. Secret handshakes, too. I guess it’s meant to strengthen their bonds of brotherhood. Sharing stuff like that, I mean.”

“Dulce periculum means danger is sweet,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes upward. “I bet they think it makes them sound totally badass. I just think it’s cringey.”

“Agreed,” I said, pursing my lips as I saw Nate Lockwood join the chanting frat brothers, raising a glass high in the air as his eyes gleamed with drunken excitement.

After a while, a group of girls bounced up to us, cheering and squealing at the sight of Ruby. All of them were wearing little silver rosettes around their necks or in their ears, so I gathered they were her sorority friends.

They were all friendly and bubbly, and one of them even hugged Laurel and me when she was introduced to us. For the first time I didn’t feel totally out of place at Blackthorne. I guess all the students needed was a few drinks to take the sticks out of their asses.

“Come dance with us!” one of them demanded, yanking Ruby’s arm and gesturing for Laurel and me to follow. We went over to a spot where the music was louder, and I danced with Laurel, letting the music flow through me along with the warm liquor.

Ruby never strayed far from our side, but after a while, Laurel attracted the attention of a cute blond guy. Giggling, I waved her away to go and talk to him. Then I moved closer to the other girls, provocatively swinging my hips as I swayed to the pumping music.

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