Page 42 of All Saints: Pledge

She's quiet a while and when I glance at her in the strip lighting, I see her chewing her bottom lip. “I thought I knew him.”

“Well then, you should be well acquainted with his assholery.”

We turn a corner, prompted by the goons in suits. Ahead of us Irina’s heels catch in a crack in the flooring and the rowing twins catch her. Their own guides don’t even offer to help.

“It's more than him just being an asshole. Though he is doing that.” Clara grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop. I face her reluctantly. “Is there something going on between you guys? He's... he's never that worked up. Ever.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Have you met Kendall? He's got a stick up his butt, like, every day of every year.”

She considers that. “He’s always been aloof, yes. And entitled. But really steady about it, if that makes sense. Nothing rattled him. This is new. His... intensity. And it seems like it’s only around you.”

Well shit, I can't deny that part. Kendall’s current behavior is reminiscent of a rabid dog, a stark contrast from his aloofness as the high school king. And yet “we hate each other but he swears we’re meant to be together” just doesn’t seem like something I can explain.

I pat Clara's hand and turn back toward the tunnel. “I overheard an argument. He's all hot and bothered over something with his Dad. He's using me to get even with him, they put a wager on it or something, and I'm sick of it. End of story.”

“That's not end of story, that's—” she trots on her heels to catch me.

“It's all I know, and I swear. Tonight in the tunnel, we overheard Kendall arguing with his Dad.” I motion around to the goons. “They heard it too. It seems like Kendall’s father is using our success in All Saints as some sort of test for Kendall.” There. All true. Even if I’ve left out duct tape and bruising kisses. I don't need to hurt Clara any more than she's already hurting.

“We’re…a test for Kendall?”

I glance at the henchmen. “I’m not sure what it means. Kendall was mad I overheard it, and then mad at what I planned to wear.”

“Because you had to switch with Li.” I can feel her eyes on me.

I nod. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yeah, I guess. I gather that Kendall is tasked with getting us through the tests as some sort of proof he’s earned his Prefect spot or whatever.” I shrug.

Clara is quiet longer than I deem necessary. “That’s so weird, because Augustine has been nothing but welcoming to me.” Sheshoots me a sideways look I can’t interpret. “I thought he was helping me through some of the events so that Kendall and I can be together at the end of all this, not that he had wagered we’d fail.”

It’s my turn to stare. “Kendall’s father is… helping you?”

She shrugs. “Not outright. But like, he’ll ask what I’m planning to wear and I use his advice. And tonight he suggested that I serve the table that Kendall was also serving. Just little stuff like that. And tonight he told me to talk a lot about what I want out of life, if I could wedge it into conversation. To play up my wholesomeness, and my want for children, and a successful family. To talk about my Grandparents. I never think I’m that interesting, so I worry that I would have failed tonight if he hadn’t warned me to amp it up.”

I’d received almost the same coaching from Kendall. Albeit with an upsetting amount of sexual tension. And now I have to wonder if he and his father are pitting Clara and me against each other. Do they each have a horse in this race—and if so, what is the prize? “And how do you think it went tonight?”

She shrugs. “It was odd. Everyone wanted to know about my grandparents. The ones on the East Coast,” she clarifies. When I nod, she cast a glance at the goons, and then moved in toward me in confidence. “What was even weirder is the really specific questions they asked. What charities my grandmother supported. How much money she raised. Whether or not I was a debutante. How often I see them. Who their friends are. Who my grandfather golfs and sails with.” She pauses. “Literally almost all the questions were about my family, and not about me. Except for the woman who invited me to go sailing with her. I had to tell her I’d only done two or three summers of sailing camp, and I’m not really confident enough for the water around here.” Clara paused. “She didn’t seem off-put. She said it was something we could work on. As if she and I were going to hangout as friends sometime in the future. It was…odd. Did everyone ask you about your family?”

“Some. I did get questions about my grandfather and his racehorses. But when I told people that he’d passed away basically penniless, they asked me more about my coursework here. And yes, I had someone invite me to the opera. Kind of like we’d somehow end up going. Tonight was odd indeed. I wonder if it was like a mentor match up?”

“Well I kind of thought Augustine was already my mentor. He’s the one that keeps telling me to give Kendall time. To just wait out this process. But yes, maybe.”

My mind is whirling. Games upon games. Augustine is actively encouraging Clara’s affections? And coaching her performances? I desperately hope Clara has never had her boobs taped by anyone over the age of twenty.

Clara continues. “I’ve been hopeful that all of this would settle out. It's just... it's just Kendall never looked at me that way. With that intensity. Not even once.”

The door opens in front of us, and the goons usher us forward. I have to try to salvage this. I’m not ready to talk about it. And definitely not with Clara. “Be glad he never looked at you that way Clara, we hate each other. Be glad he’s never hated you like he hates me.”

“Yeah. Right. I know.” She says, but I can tell she's not convinced.

Neither am I.

21

“I'm not alone, mom.” My heels click on the sidewalk as I hurry along. I'm definitely alone. Hopefully, my mom would call someone if I screamed. Abduction is still a possibility; I’ve been grabbed already once this week.

“It's a short walk, and it’s not that dark out.” Another lie. The concert hall is a fair jaunt, and vespers is that last service for All Souls cathedral. Which is why it's the perfect time to call my mom, aside from it being mid-afternoon back home. We often talk at night for me, since I'm up late and my first class takes place somewhere around one in the morning for my parents.

A chill seeps through my sweater and I regret not wearing my green coat. I still can't bring myself to put it on. Dominic refuses to see me, even to allow me to drop off food, and Li treats me like I'm going to bite her at any moment. So much for having made normal friends here. I've poisoned everything, to be honest. Clara has been avoiding me for the past week too, not that I blame her. She got a full serving of the weirdness that is Kendall right now when it comes to me.

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