Page 5 of The New Girl

The chairs were set out in a semicircle. I took one next to a young man wearing a three-piece suit. He looked at me briefly and then looked away. My hair and makeup must have put him off.

As I glanced around the room, I realized that everyone was college-age, but the guys were in outdated suits and the girls were in dresses from my grandmother’s generation. Breasts were squeezed into tight-fitting bodices and waists were cinched. Skirts were either tight or flared over girls’ legs that were sheathed in pantyhose. They were in high heels with pointy toes.

I had stumbled into some sort of cult and was about to leave when I saw Lysander Stark emerge from behind a blue velvet curtain and take a seat on the raised dais at the front of the room. Two more college men followed him and sat down, and then at last, an older man came out from behind the curtain, stood at the podium and cleared his throat.

“Welcome one and all to the first meeting this year of the Adventurers Club.”

I slumped down in my seat so I wouldn’t be spotted. There were about twelve or thirteen students in the audience, some were dressed like me in contemporary street clothes. Most were in costume.

“The Adventurers Club was formed in 1967 by a select circle of change-makers who, feeling constrained by the sexual mores of their day, declared the need for a safe space to explore their sexuality outside of the bonds of holy matrimony, which was the only socially acceptable sex to be had at that time for a person in their twenties.”

I glanced around me. Most of the listeners were giving the history rapt attention, but a few like me, were wondering what we had gotten ourselves into.

“For those of you who are newcomers this evening, welcome. Most of us have assumed a pseudonym to navigate communication more easily, but others have opted to use no name at all. We are anonymous. We are discreet. Discretion is of such vital importance that any infraction, however tame or seemingly harmless will result in expulsion from the Club and censure within the college.”

“Basically, we have the power to kill your career dead,” said one of the young men on the dais. He was wearing a letterman’s sweater from the Fifties.

“And we will use that power if you speak to anyone about the inner workings of the Club, its members and order of business.” He planted a steel-eyed stare on those of us who were new. We stuck out like neon signs. “If you’re going to have a problem adhering to that rule, please leave now. Your continued presence here will signal agreement–an agreement that we take very seriously.”

“I don’t get the need for secrecy,” a guy from the audience said loudly. “It’s just sex and this isn’t 1967. We can have sex whenever we want.”

The heckler was polished, rich and drop dead gorgeous. He sat with his arms crossed and his jean-clad legs splayed apart.

“Not like this you can’t.” The letterman approached the podium and leaned into the microphone. “We’re not going to spoon feed you the possibilities for exploration that this Club offers. You’re either in or you’re out, and if you’re out–the exit is at the rear.”

Gorgeous heckler shrugged, rubbed his nose and grinned at his companion–a guy who was equally gorgeous.

I sat up a little straighter. There was no way I was leaving.

“There are a few other rules that are non-negotiable and may impact your decision to commit,” Lysander Stark said.

The president of the club–or whatever he was–made a small turn to acknowledge the remark. “That is correct. There is no dress code but we ask members to research and source appropriate Club wardrobe from 1967. The practice has been a tradition since that time and we find it adds an element of excitement and interest to the proceedings. Communication is not via smart phones, texts, or messages sent through social media. Our club secretary will post upcoming meetings on the bulletin board in the park. It is your responsibility to check the board regularly. If you miss three meetings, you will be struck off the membership list. Thirdly—”

“That blows,” a guy bellowed from the back. “You’re going to lose a lot of people that way. What’s wrong with forming a group online?”

“We are not interested ingroupthink. We are seeking new experiences, fresh approaches and we embrace the element of surprise and discovery.”

“Privacy is a factor and deniability is crucial for all our sakes,” said Letterman from his seat on the dais.

“The last rule, and perhaps the most important, is the one regarding stimulants of any kind. Drugs and alcohol are forbidden before, during and after meetings. If you show up under the influence, you will not be admitted. It takes just one drunken oaf to destroy a legacy of a generation. The membership voted on this addition to our bylaws and it passed unanimously.”

“That’s insane,” a guy muttered loudly. “No alcohol? Not even a beer? We’re all adults here. I think it should be up to the individual.”

“There are no individuals in the Club. That’s the first thing you have to understand. Everyone here has the capacity to become intimate with any of the people you see in this room. Wemust protect each other at all costs. In today’s climate, the use of drugs and alcohol opens the door to misunderstanding and there can be no misunderstandings in the Adventurers.”

The speaker looked away and then cleared his throat. He was roughly twenty-three but he had the mannerisms of a fifty-year-old man.

“I heard about a controversy with a private club on campus.” A girl sitting in the center of the audience, near the front, spoke up. “It happened last spring. A student died and the board of directors almost closed the club she belonged to down. Was that you?”

The speaker nodded and cleared his throat again. “It was a dark time in an otherwise unblemished history. The Club and our activities came under scrutiny. We were cleared of all wrongdoing and our charter was renewed this year.”

“What happened?” asked one of the girls.

Lysander rose to his feet. “I assumed responsibility for the tragedy. The Club was exonerated.”

“Youwere the drunken oaf?” The gorgeous heckler snorted his disbelief. “No way. Tell us what really happened. I’m not going to attach my name to a shady mess.”

“No one’snameis attached here–or weren’t you paying attention,” the speaker said sharply. “The Club will not discuss the incident at an open meeting. For the sake of preserving the anonymity of the female in question, the honorable member has been asked not to discuss the case. The matter is closed. Now, onto the business before us. Stand and raise your left hand to take the oath.”

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