Page 6 of House of Hearts
I toy with the straps of my duffel bag, playing with the frayed edges. “What sort of privileges do they have?”
“You’ll see, trust me,” Amber says. “Oliver only takes advantage of the boring perks—like having an after-hours library pass—but I swear they can get away withanything.”
I imagine a roomful of alibis and murder accomplices. Based on the five seconds I’ve known Oliver, he doesn’t seem like he’d care to get involved in any of that, but…
I take my vows seriously.
“To be fair, we know the basics about the Cards, like how everyonestarts their four years off with a Joker.” Amber fishes through a Chloé bracelet bag to show me a worn-out playing card. The jester on the front is creased and smudged from a cocktail of pen ink and concealer, a true testament to the three years it’s spent living in her $4,000 purse. “It’s supposedly your ticket in, but once you submit it, you can never try out again. You’ve got one shot to prove yourself to the Cards, and if you blow it at Joker Night, you’re done.”
I swallow down the bulk of my questions. “What’s Joker Night?”
“That’s what everyone wants to know. All we know is that they pick new pledges that night. We’re told the date and dress code each year, and that’s it. Not what they’re looking for or what they want—none of that. You show up at HOH—the House of Hearts—and hope to God they choose you…And for reasons unknown, they picked Oliver.”
“House of Hearts” summons an image in my mind—a memory of the school map printed across my frontal lobe. I remember the house as a Gothic nightmare splayed out across the lawns, an enormous two-story building carved out of a different, bleaker era. I’m tempted to pull out the school map and trace a pathway to it with my finger when I hear a voice shout out in the distance.
“Don’t walk away when someone’s having a conversation with you, Calvin!”Sadie storms into my peripheral, and the smiling face she wore on the school stage is long gone. She’s traded it for a sneer as she chases after her brother, but no matter how fast she power walks, he stays two steps ahead of her.
Amber’s eyes light up, and she swats excitedly at Birdie’s arm. “This is like divine intervention,” she whispers, pointing rapidly between Real Sadie and Circled Yearbook Sadie. “Now’s your chance! Go up there! Drag her up to the lookout!”
I squint at the Juliet-style balcony a quarter of the way up the clock tower.
The look Birdie gives me is pitying, one that says I’ve got a ton of catching up to do around here. “I forget you’re brand new here. Basically, it’s a well-known makeout spot, but aside from that”—her cheeks burn red—“there’s the belief that if you go up there with your crush, you’ll be together forever. It’s a silly superstition.”
“Nothing says true love like an ancient, musty clock tower.” Oliver snickers before getting jabbed in the ribs by his girlfriend.
“Don’t forget that you kissed me up there, too.”
He stammers and buries his face back in his book.
“Now, c’mon! Don’t lose this chance!” Amber gives Birdie one final send-off push, and I catch my new roommate’s eye as she throws me a pleading glance. I can’t save her from this, but I’ve got my own reasons for hooking my arm through hers and tagging along.
“I don’t mind coming with you.”
“Ugh, you were supposed to be my savior!” she whines, already caving by the expression on her face. “Fine, fine. I’ll go. What is it that you want me to even do?”
Amber’s grin grows. “Flirt! It’s not rocket science! Go up there, say hi, and ask if she’d like to go up with you. Easy.”
Nothing is easy about walking up to the tower where my best friend died, but I’ve already made up my mind. Birdie is chittering nervously in my ears, though I’ve stopped tuning in. I’m busy calculating the fall from the top of the tower, where the clock hand strikes, to the unforgiving earth below. The grass is dry now, but I know a year ago it was bloodstained. The lookout itself isn’t even halfway up, and it’s still giving me hives. The thought of Em scaling even higher…
Fear bobs in my throat, surging forward with every miserable step. By the time the two of us make it to the entrance, I’ve gone as cold as a body on an autopsy table. Beyond us, the sign on the wall reads:
Important Safety Regulation: Please Proceed Two at a Time for the Lookout.
I force my legs to move, my gaze cutting back up to the balcony. Heights were never an issue, not until last year. Now the only thought in my head is how easily humans are unmade.
Sadie doesn’t notice us approaching. She’s too busy furiously tapping her foot against the grass. Meanwhile, Calvin’s a wild animal caught in a trap, ten seconds away from gnawing off its own leg. His eyes dart to and fro with a slightly rabid look as he searches for a way out.
“We need to talk about this,” Sadie hisses, her voice lowering to a whisper. “If it means what I think it means—”
She stiffens at our approach and whips around, her gaze positively lethal. “Can we help you?” she snarls. I don’t think that was part of Cupid’s plan.
Birdie flushes hot, going about as red as the school crest. “I, um, was going to ask you if…uh…wanted to go up in the…uh…never mind…” With supreme secondhand embarrassment, I watch as she ditches my hand and trips over herself in her quest to make it back to the group. I think this is the moment where I’m supposed to chase after her with my tail between my legs.
But I’m not the type to back down, so I lift my chin higher and get ready to ask the real questions.
Maybe it’s thanks to Birdie’s mortifying, rambling invitation, but something gleams in Calvin’s eyes. I can see the half-baked idea take shape before he even opens his mouth and strides toward me. Suddenlyhis arm falls across my shoulders as he pulls the two of us into the open doorway of the tower.
“Sorry, Sadie. Looks like I’m busy after all,” he remarks. “What kind of Hart student would I be if I didn’t personally welcome the new girl?” He turns to me, and his eyes gloss down to my student-ID lanyard. “Violet, right?”
