Page 33 of All Saints: Pledge

My eyes snap up to where she’s eating her soup with a slow and steady pace. “What?”

“You said you fell in the library.”

“Ah.” Dammit, I was hoping we’d avoid circling back to this. I want to tell her, I want to confess everything to her so badly. But how does one talk about problematic hate-fueled make-out sessions when one knows the other person is in love with the make-outee? “I was looking through a yearbook, and Kendall showed up. He tried to take the book from me. We…we got in a fight over the book.”

She blinks. “A fight?”

Shoving down every memory of that moment, I nod. It’s as close to the truth as I’m willing to get to. “An honest to God, knockdown fight. We both ended up on the floor. He ended up with the book and left the library to keep me from reading more, the bastard.” All true. “Apparently, he knew about my grandfather and said nothing. It just adds to all of this weirdness.”

This time, when Clara turns to eye Kendall, it’s with suspicion. “That is very odd, I agree.” She bites her lip. “He’s a much different person here than at home.”

I nod, not sure exactly what to say. “I never knew him well, but I agree.”

She snorts. “If you would have told Clara of last year that her boyfriend was the prefect of a secret society at Oxford college, I absolutely would not have believed you. He seemed normal. Talked about going to law school, but in the same way we all talk about maybe going to school for something. He rarely talked about his dad. I met him twice in three years, at Christmas. Honestly, I thought his mom was a widow for almost an entire year. Kendall did everything he could to keep me from his family. I always thought they were super religious, but now…”

I stare at my soup. Around us, quiet conversation sparkles. Except I feel like Clara and I are sitting in a black hole, sucking all the joy out of an otherwise fun evening. I can’t even enjoy the excellent food. I allow the server to take my soup, untouched, then scan the room again. No sign of the gorgeous boy from the All Souls choir. He must not actually be a Univ student, which solidifies my suspicion that he’s connected with All Saints. He’d attended that orientation not as an upperclassman from my college, but as a helper so that I would find the secret room.

“You know,” Clara says thoughtfully, more to herself than to me, “he was always weird about you. Did you guys have something going on? In high school? He always seemed so focused on icing you out in particular. It used to drive me crazy, thinking that you’d broken his heart or something.”

The insane burst of laughter that escapes my mouth, along with drooling on myself, serves as a simple reminder of why Kendall Saint James will never, ever, love me. “Definitely never broke his heart. We hated each other. Hated.” I drew out the last word. “Haven’t you ever heard of nemesises? Nemesii? I don’t know the pluralization. He is my nemesis. He not only iced me out, he actively tried to sink my fundraisers, and he turned half of the student council against me. Even if my ideas were the very best, no one ever sided with me. He took down all my posters for my Animal Friends Alliance adoption event, and got me in trouble with the front office, because I hadn’t filled out the right flyer paperwork. Hated me.” Remembering all the ways he’d undermined my efforts over the years has my insides running red hot again.

She regards me for a moment before swinging her bag over her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I was awful to you in high school. I gave his opinion too much power over me, and I shouldn’t have let it. You are really nice, and I’d like to start over and be friends. Real friends.”

My mouth falls open. “I uh, wow. Um, thanks.”

She gives me a small smile. “I am really glad I have someone to share this really weird stuff with.”

Something inside my chest thaws a little. College has already changed both of us. This feels like an almost adult, mature moment. I couldn’t quite say I’m glad that we’re sharing whatever this weird thing was, but I wouldn’t want to be doing it alone either.

“Can I ask a favor?” she asks, as they serve our duck breast as the main course.

“Sure,” I answer, leaning back to allow the server to place my plate.

“Let’s promise to tell each other everything. It will be nice having someone I can tell the truth to, and who will be honest with me. Friends do that, right?”

My soul sinks in my body, even as I manage a nod. “Yes. Of course. Friends are honest with each other.” And I mean it, I want Clara as a friend and ally more than anything. But. My eyes wander of their own accord to Kendall. We’ll be honest with each other about everything except that.

Looks like my double life as a liar starts tonight.

The music buildingis surprisingly modern inside, and I love the cozy feel of it. It has high ceilings in the entry, carved with gorgeous inlaid wood. But once you're in the building proper, it's blessedly human-scale and functional. I wave to the front admin woman and grab a key to a practice room. We've been seeing a lot of each other over the past few days. I’ve been hiding out in the music building this week trying to avoid Kendall and the library like the plague. Tonight I’m squeezing in a quickpractice session before I have volunteer duty at a cocktail party. I’m starting to think that my entrance into All Saints depends on how much I can recall my one summer of customer service working at a restaurant downtown.

I hook a left, down a dark hallway and into a the main space, filled with individual sound-sealed rooms. "Please let me find one where the last occupant didn't have BO," I mutter to myself as I heft my bag to the side and free my arm to use the key.

The door opens with a slight hiss, like the sound of a ziplock container opening. The smell of old sheet music greets my nose. I take an appreciative huff and close the door behind me. This smell and I have become friends too. It's as intoxicating to me as cologne. I wonder if it runs in my blood. Maybe my grandfather huffed old paper in his time, and we could have bonded over it.

I plunk myself down on the piano, rummage in my bag and produce my school issued iPad. It doesn't take long to cue up Lux Aurumque alto part on YouTube. As always happens here, I enter a time vortex. Before long, I'm lost in the music, a feeling of peace coming over me. The act of singing is soothing to my body, and I love the way my voice joins with the other parts. I forget my worries about tonight, about Clara and Kendall, and about anticipating my next ASC test.

The song ends, and I open my eyes, intent on moving on to another piece. Which is when I come face to face with someone on the other side of the glass and I scream.

17

By the annoyed expression on Li’s face pressed to the glass, I gather she’s been waiting for me to see her for a while. She might have even tapped on the glass but...soundproof booth. Effective for keeping music and singing from getting out but just as effective in preventing someone from gaining my attention from the outside. It's why each of the rooms is outfitted with a large red light on the wall—the admin at the front desk can press it to alert you if you're needed for any reason, or if your time is up and someone is waiting for your pod.

My scream reverberates around the space, and I cover my ears, wincing.

"We need to talk," she mouths, glaring into my pod. I hastily unlock the door and push it open.

"God, it's cold in here," she says as she leans in the door.

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