Page 6 of Of Heathens & Havoc

I get in line at the dining hall behind a group of guys. A couple glance over their shoulder, their eyes sweeping over me without pause before landing on a trio of girls behind me. My nerves settle.

Complete invisibility achieved.

“Is that one of them?” one of the girls asks, chewing at her lip and craning her neck to see who’s sitting at a small corner table completely surrounded by a crowd of preening girls.

“I can’t see who that is, but it’s definitely not the Hellhounds,” one of the other girls says. “They always travel in a pack. You’ll know them when you see them. You can’t miss them. They’re… Obvious.”

“Is it the Sinners, then?”

“Nah, they take all their classes together,” says the third girl. “It’s not that weird in a big seminar, but I had them in one of my smaller classes last year, and it was like… Quarter of the class was this dark, glamourous presence. Another quarter was their fangirls. It was all very intense.”

“Oh,” says the first girl faintly, her eyes wide.

“Just stick with us, and we’ll make sure you don’t fall into any bad stuff,” says her friend, who must be older. I find myself wishing I wasn’t alone, that I had a couple friends to show me the ropes and point me in the right direction.

But then, if I still had Eternity, I wouldn’t be here at all.

I turn away as we shuffle forward in line. At least I got some good intel this morning, a place to start.

The Hellhounds.

The Sinners.

The names send a shiver over my skin. They don’t sound like groups that should be at a Catholic college. But then, that’s exactly what I’m looking for.

I keep an eye out for these “obvious” groups all through breakfast and on the way to my first class. The population of Thorncrown is small, but after homeschooling for four years, it’s overwhelming. I don’t see any dark presence to watch out for, which is a relief. At the same time, a shiver of fear and excitement ripples up my spine at the prospect of laying eyes on this mysterious group.

I slip into the lecture hall where I have my first class and find a seat in the corner, behind a pair of girls. I take out my notebook and pens, ready to take meticulous notes. I always got the highest scores in my class when I went to public school, not because I’m the smartest or most ambitious girl in the room but because I seek external validation, as my therapist explained. Almost like a person could be affected by knowing the people who should love and protect you most in the world wanted nothing to do with you.

Thanks, Mom and Dad. Your abandonment gave me just the motivation I’ll need to graduate Summa Cum Laude.

“Hey, Ronique,” says a goth girl in front of me, elbowing her companion. “What do you have next?”

The other girl looks up from her phone. “Finding God in Science.”

I signed up for that class too, so I switch over to my schedule to see if I have it next hour. I do.

“With Father Hot Priest,” says the first girl, wiggling her brows as she looks at Ronique’s schedule. “I’d call him Daddy any day.”

“Annabel Lee,” Ronique scolds. “How do you even know he’s hot?”

“I had confession with him,” Annabel says. “I’m going to have to keep going back every week just from the thoughts that man put in my head.”

“Ew, he must be old,” Ronique protests, wrinkling her nose. “Plus, priests are pedos. I can’t believe they even let them teach at a school.”

“We’re all over eighteen,” Annabel points out. “And it’s not their fault they’re creepers. All that celibacy drives them to madness.”

“Not an excuse!” Ronique protests.

I open my phone and click through the tabs I haven’t closed in four years.

“Local Teen Missing”

“Family Pleads: Bring Our Daughter Home”

“Thorncrown Takes Up Collection for Grieving Family”

Each article is shorter than the last, though none are long. The last one is less than a paragraph as hope faded.

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