Page 68 of Cruel Legacy

“Well, right now I’m not. I’m done with other guys. Finn is my future husband and I refuse to go through the next two years like this. He’s had his fun, now he needs to heel.”

I’ve never told my friends what to do when it comes to hooking up. Frankly, I like when Finn’s ignoring Eloise because she’s annoying as hell. She thinks she’s hot shit because she’s already been matched to Finn and is guaranteed a ring.

But this might work in my favor. Finn’s interested in Thea. He’s trying to hide it under the guise of finding out her secrets for this assignment, but I can tell it’s more.

I don’t need him going off the rails and getting fixated on her. This is the least complicated way to shut that down too.

“Done.”

I slip from my chair and melt into the crowd on the dance floor. I don’t trust Eloise, but when it comes to being the queen bitch, I know she plays that role with Oscar winning accuracy. Now, all I have to do is sit back and watch Thea get her ass handed to her over and over again.

By the time the sorority chews her up and tosses her out, she’ll be broken and humbled, no one will come anywhere near her, and she’ll have no choice but to crawl back to her designated place in this world.

Which is nowhere near my school or town.

Chapter33

Thea

Istare at the pink embossed lettering on ivory parchment paper longer than I probably should. It’s an invitation, that much is clear, but why I received one is the part that has me confused. I’ve never done or said anything that could make them think I’d be interested in spending the night in a room with any of them.

Uncle Scott only seems to speak to me when he’s pissed off at something I’ve said, but he hit the nail on the head when he told me to keep my focus on my studies and stay away from these entitled pricks on campus.

I close my mailbox and walk towards the side exit. From the squeaks and squeals filling the hallway, I’d say I’m the only one whodoesn’tthink getting invited to party with the Prissy, missy, and simpy, is a dream come true.

I got an invitation from three other sororities last week. Who knew there were so many clubs interested in transfer students with alcoholic moms?

I turned them all down. I have LJ to thank for helping me draft the responses. I was going to just throw them in the trash when she explained a formal denial is expected.

It’s how other sororities know you’re still available to pledge. My insistence that I didn’t care about the process fell on deaf ears. LJ’s such a rule follower.

I trudge over to her dorm so she can help me turn these people down, too. I could totally draft the reply myself, but I don’t actually know which glittery castle sent it to me. There’s no name on the envelope or the invite. Just some weird symbol. I figure if anybody knows who it’s from, it’s my personal pledge season tour guide.

I’ve barely finished knocking on her door when she yanks it open. I hold up the card. My ears split from the squeal of excitement she lets out. She pulls me into the room and hurries over to her desk to pick up a matching invitation.

It takes a while for her to calm down enough to actually explain why she seems more excited about this invitation than she was the other ones I got. She tells me the Pepto Bismol society is Nu Nu Zeta Nu. She’s already making plans for what to wear to the party. I roll my eyes when she throws around words likeexclusiveandthe best.

* * *

I’ve tried to get out of it. It’s been a week since LJ and I got those invitations in the mail. I had to listen to her going on and on about it every day. I finally limited her to one meal only. She chose breakfast and let the joy and excitement carry her through the day. That worked for me too, because we got it over with and then I had the rest of the day to pretend the invite never happened.

But it did happen, and here I am at the address that was messaged to us on our Prospectus accounts this morning. Theonlyreason I’m here is because of LJ. She was excited about coming to the kickoff meeting, but also afraid to come to this empty old house alone. So here I am as backup to scare the shadows away.

The abandoned house is on the farthest end of Canyon Falls, behind the old ice cream factory. The railroad tracks I crossed when I pulled into town are a few blocks from here. I didn’t realize what a wasteland this place was, because the other parts of town are thriving.

Even the boardwalk enterprises are clean and comforting. This side of Canyon Falls reminds me of the seventh ward in Nags Creek. There’s not much over here. Just dirt, weeds, and sticks, which I guess makes it the perfect place to lure unsuspecting people into some kind of fuckery.

LJ talked my ear off the whole way here, saying that if things go well tonight, we might get invites to pledge the sorority. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I couldn’t care less about that shit. Cause, you know, I’m being a good friend.

I roll my eyes at myself. Layla-Jean Breland has wormed her way into my life and under my skin enough that I’m going to endure this night for her.

I even dressed up. I’m in a dress, wearing heels instead of my boots or sneakers. I’m not interested in whatever they’re selling, and this is a one night only occasion for me. I’ll get LJ through it and then offer my final fuck off in person.

The door to the house creaks open, and we step inside into the dimly lit foyer. I look around the entryway in morbid fascination, still not sure why the fancy invitation directed us here.

They went all out with the creep factor on this. I step further into the residence, heading towards the only room that seems to have working lights, with LJ following closely behind.

We enter what I guess you’d call a drawing room. It’s devoid of furniture, with the exception of an elaborately adorned, pink coffee table with a folded place card on it.

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