Page 66 of All Saints: Pledge

“Iguess,” she agrees. “But what was that bit about…training? What do you think they will train us to do?”

I frown at her and say, “I don’t know. Maybe comportment? Or...” I hesitate about revealing what I’ve learned. “I mean, I think this whole thing operates by trading favors. My honest guess is that they will train us to be useful to the organization in some way.”

Her blue eyes narrow in distaste. “Like as a spy or something?” She gasps. “You don’t think we’ll have to be assassins, do you? I don’t do well with blood.”

I’m not sure how sinister this gets, but it’s possible. My silence is unsettling for her. “So why were you holding hands with?—”

“Teague?” I turn and look out the window, where we can see his form walking back down the driveway. “Not my choice. He did it to piss off Kendall.”

This is dancing dangerously close to a subject I donotwant to cover with Clara.Whywould it piss off Kendall for me to hold hands with Teague? I can’t have her questions. “He knows Kendall is a stickler for the rules.”

“Hm.” She eyes me.

“Kendall is so easy to piss off. Honestly, I don’t blame Teague for pushing his buttons if he has to live with him. Can you imagine?”

“He’s not always like that. He was…never…like that. Before.” Clara’s voice is quiet.

I nod. “I didn’t know him well in high school, but yeah.”

“He’s gotten worse since he’s been here. But it’s…” she shrugs. “Is it weird to say that I think this is who he was all along? It’s almost like the calm, cool boy I knew has vanished. That it was an act.” And now there are tears swimming in her eyes. “I feelsostupid. I basically followed him here, and now…” she waves around as she hiccups. “Sorry. It’s just… I spent so much time envisioning marrying him. And now I realize I hadnoidea what that would have been like. What his family was like. What college would be like. And now.”

“And now,” I agree. I’m still staring out the window.

“You like him,” Clara says with an abrupt shift of focus. I’m terrified that she means Kendall and I whip my head to her, ready to defend myself to my last dying breath. But she motionsout the window to where Teague is walking. “I’ve seen you watching him.”

“I don’t really know him,” I scoff. But I think back to those quiet, stolen moments in the library. That cozy, close feeling, how easy it was to talk and joke with him. His arms. How his long legs looked propped on a desk. And how now I kind of picture what it would be like, sitting on the edge of that desk while he ran his long fingers down my arm, up my neck and into my hair.

“You’re blushing,” Clara crows.

“I’m not allowed to like anyone.”

She’s silent. “Fair. Is he here for the same reason we are? Initiation? I haven’t seen him at our meetings.”

I shrug, and turn away from the window. “He’s been at a few meetings, but I think he’s older. He’s in All Souls College…maybe he didn’t get a contact the first time around? I think that’s possible. Let’s finish yoga, and then we have a formal lunch. That means showers and makeup.”

Clara doesn’t argue. She just watches me strip down to my bra and leggings, then pushes play on the iPad with the yoga class on it. Thirty minutes later, I do feel more clearheaded as I head to my room.

Clara and I part ways on each side of the bathroom, then meet again in the palatial room between ours. “This is epic,” she breathes.

It’s set up like a mini sauna spa with two huge soaking tubs on one wall and a colossal steam shower taking over the opposite short wall. Wooden benches line the wall next to our individual vanities…it’s probably possible to use the steam shower to turn the entire bathroom into a steam sauna.

“Epicallyexpensive,” I grouse, tossing my makeup bag on one of the white marble vanities. “It’s way too big.”

“Maybe because it’s shared?” She says, eyeing an honest-to-God marble statue in a corner.

“Yeah, but why not split it up and make it two private baths? Most people don’t want to shower with their neighbor.”

She proves my point when she starts running the water in the shower. With the press of a button, the glass becomes opaque, and we both breathe a sigh of relief. “This whole place is a bit voyeuristic, isn’t it?” She asks. “I mean, I’m all for saunas, but…”

I try for logic. “Europeans are different. Less body conscious? I’ll let you shower and then I will. I need to put in a hair mask anyhow.”

She’s already unwinding her long blond hair from the bun and nodding.

I undress quickly, sliding into a silk robe hanging next to my mirror. Opening the door, I step back into my room, intending to grab my toiletry kit but stop dead.

On my desk is a single white flower, a gorgeous white lily. A card sits under the perfectly crisp, bright green stem.

This wasn’t in my room moments ago when I went in to the bathroom, was it? I cross to my door and give it a firm tug. The old-fashioned lock holds firm. Still locked. I turn back to the room, surveying it. Nothing else is amiss.

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