Page 13 of Ruthless Chaos
Tara bolts from the bed, closing the space between us quickly. She takes the hanger from my hands, places it in the closet and takes my wrists.
“I’m so sorry, Allie,” she begins. Her words feel genuine, but I flinch away. She’s ignoring my personal space completely. “I’m not like them, I swear. The sisters are brutal, especially to the newbies.”
“Racist, you mean.” I loosen myself from her grip.
She nods. “Once you don’t fit their image of what a Hemlock House girl should be, they pick at it.” Tara doesn’t try to come any closer to me, and I’m thankful. “They teased me about my thick accent and my hairy arms."
She has neither of those things anymore.
“It’s just how things are until you get initiated.”
“Initiated?” I quirk an eyebrow.
Tara’s hands fly to her mouth as if she said something she wasn’t supposed to. I’m not even sure I heard her right, because it sounds a bit ridiculous. It’s a dorm, not a cult. What the hell does initiation have to do with where I sleep during my studies?
Uncle Laurent was right: this placeisstrange.
Tara fiddles with her fingernails. “It’s not my place to tell you all this. It’s a bit too late if you don’t already know. Just work hard to earn your spot. Everything will be fine.”
Gosh, everyone is so cryptic around here.
This is like the third time I’ve heard some variation of this weird way to wish me luck, when I don’t even know what I’ll need the luck for. It’s frustrating and I’m confused, but I’m not sure what I can do about it.
I make a mental note to do some more research on this school when I get the chance. For now, I push it out of my mind. I’m already so exhausted. The last thing I need is another thing to be anxious about.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tara’s mood shifts. “If you got placed on Hemlock, it means that your family must have roots within the House. That’s a leg up already.”
My stomach falls because none of those things are true and I’m literally cosplaying as someone else in a school filled with the children of killers. Tara has ahuman skullas decor and a necklace of teeth hanging around her neck.
Now that I’m here, I have no idea how Uncle Laurent thought this was a good idea.
Anxiety thrums in my throat.
Tara turns to my closet, and I do too. It looks sparse, even to me. I lost most of my clothes in the blast, and then Uncle Laurent had me discharged so quickly I left behind most of the little I had left. Most of what I have he bought for me at the duty-free store in the airport.
Tara wrinkles her nose, and I’m not even mad at her.
“Some better clothes will make things easier for you,” she says, picking at a nearly threadbare t-shirt. “That’s how I survived the first year. I made sure I always looked better than them.” She gives me a wide smile. “I’ll take you shopping.”
I nod and smile back at her. I’ve never been before.
“Then it’s settled.” Tara claps, then puts her hands on my shoulders. “I’m sure there’s something in my closet that you can wear to the party tonight.”
My smile falters. “Party?”
She nods. “Yes. The Freshman Welcome Party is tonight, and you’re not allowed to miss it.” She jigs her shoulders in excitement.
A fresh stake of terror drives itself through my chest.
I’ve never been to a party before. Everything I know about parties I’ve learned from movies and television. Are they actually like that? Would I have to dance? I don’t know any moves, or even any popular songs.
Frankly, it sounds horrific, especially since I’m so tired.
But I can’t let Tara on to my trepidation. I have yet to think of a way to explain my lack of social skills and real-world knowledge that wouldn’t spark more questions. My cover is already flimsy as it is. I’ll have to figure this out along the way.
On paper, Allie Clarke is a social butterfly. I’ll have to fake it till I make it.
“That sounds great. I can’t wait!” I say, wiping my sweaty hands on my cardigan.
