Page 23 of All Saints: Pledge

Honest to Godcandle lightflickers inside the stone room. With the tapestries on the wall, and no visible second exit, I have to question the safety of being closed in this room. The air inside is close, with a faintly spicy smell. Cardamom, maybe? It reminds me of chai masala. Peppery. A lectern fills the front of the room, and a row of pews marches down the center of the remainder. Maybe half the people from the first meeting fill the pews. Clara and I slide in behind the pair of boys in rowing shirts. Behind us the door opens and closes again. Everyone turns to inspect a striking girl—willowy with long blond hair and flashing blue eyes.

“Irina,” she says to Kendall’s father in a deep Slovak accent before walking straight to the front pew and sitting down.

It’s quiet as, well, a church.

Several others filter in before Kendall’s father approaches the lectern. “Welcome Pledges, everyone is accounted for so we canbegin. Congratulations on passing the first test. We must only induct those with the highest moral values. Transparency is of utmost importance to us.”

I cough to cover my snort of irritation. Kendalldruggedme. That’s hardly transparency. No one else makes a move, and Clara stomps on my foot. Hard. Kendall’s father turns his icy eyes on me, and I quiet. It’s clear my outburst is unwelcome. For the sake of finding out what is going on—what is coming next—I sit stock still. “Excuse me,” I say after a beat.

“As I was saying, we only admit the best of the best. You’ve cleared the first gate, but your behavior must be beyond reproach for the entirety of this process. Weassureour fraternity that we have a stringent selection process and that we will only present the best and most sterling candidates.”

This sounds more Draconian by the moment.

“Before you leave tonight, you must sign this code of conduct. It will stand until your induction agreement andisa binding contract, so take care in understanding everything I distribute.” Glossy acrylic clipboards pass through the benches. "You will also find a QR code on the back of the signature page. Please use it to download our app, it will help you track and register your required activities.”

“They have an app?” Clara mouths at me. Draconian, but in the 21st century, I guess.

Since we’re in the front, we start reading first and I’m most of the way through the first page before I hear the murmurs behind me. This code of conduct. It’s… intense. We’re expected to attend all classes on time and to achieve passing marks in every single subject. All functions for our college are mandatory, no skipping formal dinners. We will pick one approved volunteer activity from an attached list and donate a minimum of ten hours to the cause. Full attendance to any event at any time required by All Saints. They will provide us with a personal trainer and expectus to complete a minimum of five workouts a week. Our app will track our location, and heart rate. I assume it can also be used to record audio, though it doesn’t mention it. And that’s just the first page. The second page is the personal conduct. A one drink maximum in all social situations where it would be impolite to decline. No partying. No recreational drugs. No smoking. No casual hookups. Nodating. No sexual activity. We are to limit our first time exposures to things—no new sports, no new unapproved activities or major life experiences. No tattoos, no piercings, no activities at all that would reflect badly on the Initiate class or the fraternity. We are to be paragons of virtue. Beyond reproach. Pristine in thought and action.

Jesus. I’m altruistic, but this is…extra.

Beyond extra.

“What does it meanno dating?” Clara mutters beside me.

I shoot her a look. “Um, I think it means…no…dating.”

“No dates atall?Or no serious boyfriends?”

My brow furrows. “I mean, given we have a one drink limit even inprivate, I’m going to go with no dates at all? I’m shocked they’re not handing us a wooden ruler and requiring that we sit twelve inches from anyone of the opposite sex.” I don’t mention that I have my suspicions that our app will be used to make sure we’re not spending the night in other people’s rooms or going to bars.

“This is bullshit.” Her cheeks are red, and I catch her glance over at Kendall. He’s sitting in the corner behind his father, staring at the same sheets of paper we are. She sees him sign the paper, and I swear she deflates next to me. He hadn’t even hesitated. Part of me wonders if, as our prefect, he knew about the strict rules before all of us. If it’s the true reason he broke things off with Clara, or hasn’t tried to get back together with her. He knew he’d have to follow these rules—rules like staying pure and virtuous, able to sign a contract not to date anyone.Something having a serious girlfriend or falling in love would complicate.

And then with the force of a sledgehammer, I’m thrown back to the moment he’d pinned me against the stone wall, his knee coming up between my thighs. How he’d growled about how he shouldn’t be doing this. Is this what he’d meant? Had he been aware we were breaking the agreement we had yet to sign? It had certainly been a whole set of firsts for me. The first time a boy has touched me like that, under my bra, up my legs. The first time I’d felt that restless, relentless heat building inside of me, under my skin. Certainly my first time feeling absolutely out of control like that. I’d thought he meant he shouldn’t be kissing me because he hated me, but maybe Kendall knew. Maybe he knows everything. My eyes can’t help but find him, lit by candlelight. As if he can sense my gaze, his jaw tightens, and I swear he’s looking down at his paper with more intensity than required. Ignoring me.

Beside me, Clara stares at Kendall too. He’d broken the rules with me, but not with her. It makes no logical sense. And now, they cannot date. “This is barbaric,” she whispers as a tear drips from her eye and splashes onto the paper. “How can they require this level of commitment? What is thepoint?”

“Do you want to leave?” I ask.

“No.” She sniffs. “I’d have to go home and admit that my mother was right. Plus…this contract isn’t forever. He just said it’s just until we’re initiated.” I feel her desperate hope that being around Kendall will somehow change things. That she just has to wait it out. God, this girl has it bad.

I waste no time signing my paper and turn my eyes back up to Kendall’s father. He lifts an eyebrow, impressed or surprised at my speed. I raise my eyebrow back at him. It amuses him. The corner of his mouth quirks up, and I look away. Something deep inside me tells me I do not want to be on this man’s radar.Clara takes a deep, steadying breath and lets it out. She sits up straighter. When a person comes back up the aisle to collect our sheets, she hands it over without a second glance.

Clara is keeping it together, but my girl-sense says it will crumble at the first whiff of resistance. Clutching our list of approved volunteer opportunities to our chests, we bolt for the door. Gone is the jovial sense of excited camaraderie, replaced by the hushed anxiety of wondering what comes next.

This isn’t your average scholarship do-good committee. There’s something deep and dark beneath all of this. As we walk back through the stone hallway, the choir sings something poignant and lonely. Something speaking to loss. To martyrdom.

It is All Souls, after all. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m here to barter something. To give away something essential in exchange for belonging.

AllSouls, indeed.

I just hope they’re not out for mine.

13

Dominic’s beautiful face greets me as I crack open my door the next morning. I’ve been expecting Clara. She’s supposed to meet me here to discuss our volunteer assignments. I assume she’s going to try to talk me out of volunteering with the choir, to volunteer with her in the Univ health clinic instead. I don’t want to tell her how set on being in the cathedral I am—more desperate for the music than the social time with friends.

My hair is an absolute mess, and not the sexy kind. I look like a toddler who has a sleepover hangover, right down to the slippers on my feet.

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