Page 16 of Massacre Monday
Jax turns his conversation to the other team members, but their muffled words fade fast when I open my locker. My fingers grip the harsh metal edge of the door. I flinch as our goalie slaps my ass with a towel. All the mess I’d just mopped off my forehead returns at the sight of a red envelope tucked inside on the bottom shelf. A wax stamp embossed with a number seals it shut. A nine,notaTheta…This isn’t good.
“You find out about your appointed yet? I got mine…” Landon’s voice sounds so far away; I can’t hear him over the pounding of my heart in my chest. Is this my doomed fate inscribed on one five-by-seven piece of paper?
My hand trembles as I take the stiff card and crack the seal. When I open it, a flood of relief washes over me as I see it’s only an invite to Massacre Monday. I snort a chuckle at how anxious I was. Stupid Greek Games for underclassmen.
The summons is for the following Monday during the waxing crescent moon. As with all the events, the rules state we can’t bring phones, must present sexually transmitted disease tests before entering, and are forbidden from carrying weapons. Girls are strongly encouraged to use some form of birth control, though condoms are always provided. Most of these fucks don’t bother with them, though.
“I’m too old for Massacre Monday,” I say, shaking my head and holding up the card.
Landon strips and runs a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “You’ll most likely be an alumni judge. I don’t know if they’ve had a fifth year participate in the past. But we could use you for the points, bro.”
With a smirk, I flick the invitation back into the locker. It flips over and all the dread returns in full force.
On the back is an announcement for my own Culling ceremony…
To my appointed.
Despite a shower,my body still shivers, that sick feeling in my stomach not going away, even after grabbing dinner at the athletic center cafeteria. Some of the pasta rolls around until I have to pause with my hand on the doorframe of my apartment, hoping to hold it all in.
Like a death warrant, the red envelope sits in my pocket.
When I open the door, I toss the keys into the bowl and think about calling Mom to make me feel better, but halt in my steps. Elina Burberry kneels on my bed, wearing a pink lacy bra and panties, and one of those strappy garter belt things. She blinks like she’s nervous, flipping her medium-length blonde hair over one shoulder.
“Hi, honey,” she says, then bites her bottom lip.
She must’ve heard what happened already. How the fuck does she know so fast?
“What are you doing here?” I play dumb, hoping she’ll have a different explanation.
“Daddy said I’m your appointed.”
I don’t acknowledge her and go about taking off my jacket, putting my helmet away and kicking off my shoes. From the stocked fridge, I grab a cold beer, screw off the lid, and chug a few sips. With the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth and say through gritted teeth, “Yeah. So?”
She shifts to a sit and crosses her legs, perching on straight arms to push her tits out. “It’s destiny. We were always meant to be together, Ryan.”
Ignoring the sheer irritation making my muscles twitch at that thought, I flop down on the sofa across from the bed and kick my feet up on the coffee table, sliding my phone from my pocket. “I understand that was always their plan, yeah.”
Slinking off the mattress, she tries to be as seductive as she can, tossing her hips from side to side as she saunters toward me, then sits next to my ankles. All I can think about is her ass cheek prints on the glass top and how to clean them off.
“You don’t seem happy,” she says with a little pout.
Why do I have to have this conversationnow? I just got home from a busy day, and I’m exhausted. Uncertain blackness coats my vision for a moment as I close my eyes, pretendingshe doesn’t exist. Only, as I open them, she’s still sitting there, waiting for an answer.
Heaving a sigh, I lay it out for her when we lock eyes. “Listen, E. We’ve been through this since high school. I never asked to be exclusive after our first breakup and I stillwon’t. I know you’ve been through the entire hockey team, possibly the baseball team, perhaps one of my brothers. I don’t give a shit, honestly. You’re free to fuck whoever you want.” Hiking up the beer, I chug the rest and spit out the words, “Even after we’re married.”
The blue of her eyes crystalizes as her jaw drops with a gasp. Tears spill onto her perfectly made-up cheeks, and I’m certain it has more to do with not being able to tell her friends what a fairytale engagement surprise she got from the future CEO of Cardell Enterprises than anything. “What do you mean, even after we’re married? Ryan, I’myours.”
I chuckle at that and pull up the football game I missed on my phone. “You’re everyone’s. You couldn’t be loyal when we were fifteen. You can’t now, I’m sure. I’m not blaming you, E. Have a great time. I just don’t want you.”
“B-but you have to obey…”
Though I’m watching my screen and ignoring her, I picture the life set before me. One where Elina maintains a god-awful, cluttered white mansion on the west side of Northview in a gated community with a garage stuffed with holiday decorations. Probably pregnant with who knows whose kid, and me, traveling in my RV, getting road head by some lot lizard, and making stupid phone calls, playing pretend CEO.
That could work, right? If I stayed away? Let her raise the other fucker’s kids?
Only problem is, all I can picture is that dark-haired woman with whiskey eyes sitting in the co-pilot’s seat next to me, a familiar expression of terror on her face when I floor the gas of our Class A and laugh at her shock.
“You’re not going to fuck me?”
