Page 15 of The Initiation

What I need now is time.

Just enough to be able to search every inch of this house for the secrets it holds.

Learn each one of the unwritten rules in place for initiates, and then all the additional ones he has for me.

And then I’ll get away with poisoning his oatmeal.

The garment bag opens smoothly, and as I stare at the contents, my head leans to the side. Tentatively, I pull the dress out, wondering if it’s possible to hallucinate feeling something as well as seeing it.

As I take the garment bag off the wall so I can get the dress off the hanger more easily, I discover there’s a bag hanging on the hook behind. It’s one of those made from stiff paper that most high-end brands use, but this one is black with the store name scrawled across it in fancy lettering.

After laying the dress over the bench, I pull the bag down and look inside. High heels with the unmistakable red soles of Louboutin. Although they’re not in a box, I’m certain these are brand new. Next to them is a black lace bra and panty set.

Now I’m sure there’s a catch.

But by the time I’ve dressed, and I’m staring at my appearance, I’ve not worked out what it is.

The dress is black, and surprisingly, the material is thick. I was sure the dress would end up being see-through, or feeling like it was going to fall apart at the seams with one wrong move.

Instead, this dress fits like a glove. It’s form fitting and clings to me like a second skin. Although sleeveless, the straps are chunky. The neckline is a little on the low side, but it’s square and still respectable. The only really revealing aspect to it is the slit that goes from the bottom of the knee-length skirt to mid-thigh.

The bra fits perfectly, yet it irks me that Syn knows my size. The same applies to the shoes, which, like a good shoe does, makes my legs look long and lean. In high school, back when we had money, I wore designer clothes all the time, including high heels, but these are four inches and stiletto.

Maybe Syn wants to see me fall and break my ankle.

He’d probably still expect me to serve him with my foot in a cast…

After doing my hair and makeup, I take one last look at my appearance, and I’m still surprised I look this good—even with the dog collar wrapped around my neck.

Which now begs the question of, what the hell does Syn have planned for tonight?

VII

Tori

There were no instructions given on where I needed to be, so at five minutes to eight, I go to the front door and stand there.

It’s early November, so outside, the temperature has dropped, and I’m standing near the only vent pumping warm air into the hallway. My coat disappeared at some point, and there’s no bag provided for me to put my phone in, so I’ve shoved that into my bra.

At what I’m sure is exactly eight o’clock, Syn, Royal, and Gemini descend the curved staircase like this is some reverse teen romcom, and they’re all dressed up for prom.

Even though Syn usually wears more formal clothes of these three, tonight, he’s got a suit on, and it almost pains me to admit how good he looks in it despite the red flags dancing all around him.

Royal is behind him, and with one smile, this guy turns into a Disney prince. Put him in formal wear, and even I would consider dropping my panties for him. Again. This one has held the title of most desirable guy on campus, for several years, and again, annoyingly, I can see why.

But of the three, it’s Gemini who has me doing a double take.

There might be a college uniform—even if it can be personalized—but saying Gemini dances the line of what that should be is being generous. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him wear anything other than ripped skinny jeans. And even earlier in the year, when it was much warmer, his face was still hidden in the shadows of a hood.

Tonight, just like the others, he’s wearing a suit. There’s no tie around his neck, and there are enough buttons left undone on his shirt for me to half-wonder if they were missed when the shirt was made. But with his chin length hair pulled back into a stumpy ponytail on the top of his head, he somehow seems like a completely different person.

Penny told me he was adopted from Asia when he was a baby. Apparently, his mother made a big deal about saving him and his sister—adopted later from another country—from a life of poverty and destitution. He’s got beautiful, dark eyes that are deep-set beneath a monolid, his chin is pointed, and he has cheekbone structure I know a lot of people would die for.

If Syn walks around campus like he’s the one in charge, and Royal struts like a peacock, well aware of how good-looking he is, then Gemini’s whole aura is not that he doesn’t give a fuck, but that he doesn’t seem to notice anything around him.

But regardless of how attractive and desirable these guys are, it’s simply because most people don’t really know them. In a way, they’re like celebrities, and really, the only thing we know about these people is what they choose to share with the world. Your favorite celebrity could be an utter asshole, but you’d never know if they only show their best sides.

And these guys…

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