I breezed through Tuesday and Wednesday's classes and was pleased to know that aside from a little light reading, I didn't have much homework to complete. Lenore had texted me late Tuesday promising me a "bombshell" followed by a truly astounding amount of exclamation points for a communications major. It was offensive.
We scheduled a time for a conference call tonight. I logged into the student portal online and scheduled one of the study rooms in the library so that we could have a call tonight to touch base in private.
Locking the door behind me, I settled into the faded blue library chair which let out a loud creak protesting my weight and signaling it needs replacing. I spread my books around the table and waited for my laptop to boot up while I fought the tangle of cords in the center console of the table to plug in both my laptop and phone charger. On cue, my phone vibrated against the wood table alerting me that Lenore was, as usual, right on time.
"Hey Len," I let out in a sigh. My relief to hear from her was obvious. She didn't miss a beat.
"Hey, sweet cheeks. Is that a banana in your pocket or are you happy to hear me?"
"It's just nice to hear a friendly voice," I offered, pulling paper and pens from my bag and placing them next to my computer. "Not that people here aren't friendly, but the closest thing I have to a friend is my roommate and she doesn't even call me by my first name."
Lenore gives a sad laugh in solidarity. "Yeah, I can't imagine. That's gotta be hard. Have you talked to your mom or Sean at all?"
"No," I say because aside from one short text conversation letting her know that I've made it here and promising to be careful I hadn't heard a peep from either of them.
Apparently, Sean is visiting a filming location in New Zealand while his daughter's life hangs in the balance, and won't be back for a couple of weeks. Priorities, I guess. "But, I was definitely promised a bombshell, so get exploding."
"Right! So, Jamie was doing an article about the Skull and Bones society and just got back from a weekend doing some interviews at Yale, and a couple in New York with prominent businessmen that were previous members. He won't reveal his sources to me, but I guess one of them was mentioning other secret societies and one of the ones mentioned is called Sin Society. He said it was the secret society of Windsor that has connections to other schools as well. It's not solely contained to the campus. He refused to say more about it."
"Huh," I paused while fidgeting with the paper wrapped around the spirals in my notepad, "did he say anything else? Anything specific about Windsor itself or how far this society reaches?"
"He didn't, but I did do a bit of digging. Not too much because I also have my own shit to wrap up before our next issue goes out - but I did find a newspaper article from back in the seventies, ya know, when those murders were happening and the entire country was focused on the campus?" pausing to clear her throat, she continued, "It was written by a reporter based out of Seattle and it had a mention of a possible link between the murders and Sin Society.
"The paper actually printed a retraction a few days later, but I had a friend at Seattle U take pictures of the actual article from the original printing they had at the library and send it to me. When I looked it up online I was only able to find mention of the retraction, but the original article is nowhere to be found in the digital world."
"Are you gonna send me the pics?"
"Duh. Check your inbox, nerd. I wasn't able to find any information about the journalist that wrote the article, but it might be worth your time to poke around seeing as you're at least on the same coast."
I gave a non-committal groan from my throat while scribbling down a few notes in my notepad about what I wanted to know and where to look for the information. Sometimes writing it down helped my thought process. When I was done I started doodling in the corners while I considered some next steps.
"If Jamie hears anything else, or if anything untoward that has to do with secret societies comes up while he's wrapping up his research, have him send it my way, will ya?"
"I'm offended you had to ask since those were the first words out of my mouth to Jamie this morning." That's Lenore. Two steps ahead of everyone else. "So, what else did you find? I know you met Lexington and Brooklyn who are obvious targets. Anyone else of note?"
"I did meet a frat boy. Bradley Bronley? His dad is Charles? I'm sure you've heard of him."
Lenore scoffs. "Oh yeah. He's a journalist's wet dream. We'll never run out of material with that guy around. I did a feature on him my freshman year. Couldn't even get past his assistant when I was trying to get an interview. The guy's a tool."
"Well, it's too soon to tell but I doubt the apple fell far from the tree. But he's hot. Like, super hot, actually."
"Hotter than Lexington? Because I'll Google him if he is," she jokes.
"No, not hotter than Lexington. I'm not sure anyone is hotter than Lex. You should see his thighs. They are good thighs to have." I said lowering my voice surreptitiously. Like a set of schoolgirls, we fell into a fit of laughter. God, I missed her already.
"Send me selfies so I can live vicariously through you my sweet Gen. For now though, I've gotta jet. I'm two hours ahead of you and I've got an early morning. Follow up on Friday?"
"Absolutely, unless I get invited to something important. I'll let ya know."
"Laters," Lenore says, disconnecting without waiting for my response. I held my phone in my hand for a moment imagining what it would be like if I were there right now. I'd probably be getting ready for bed right now, too. I'll just have to find my pleasures here. At least the weather is better. It's only been a week. I'll settle in, surely.
***
Unfortunately, by the time Friday rolled around Lenore had scored herself a date. Well, unfortunate for me. Good for her though. I'd rather she spend her Friday night out and possibly doing the mattress tango than talking to my lonely ass. The week had been relatively calm anyway and neither of us had new developments to cover. Not being a super spy, my infiltration of their social scene isn't going as quickly as I'd hoped. I know I'm holding back, but lying to people is harder than I imagined it would be. Either I actually like them and I feel guilty, or I don't like them and I get a sense of unease. It's exhausting. Not to mention the fact that I only get to truly be myself on phone calls and scattered texts to Len.
After this week, a nice Friday alone isn't a bad thing. Jade is down the hall doing a Game of Thrones drinking game with Andi and Collette. Apparently, Collette's mom played a small role with all the full-frontal nudity one might expect from a Game of Thrones actor. I can't imagine how weird it would be to see your mom like that knowing the rest of the world has seen it, too.
I'm certainly not a prude by any means, but it's strange to wrap my mind around. It's not that unusual in our world. While Jade excitedly briefed me on the rules in an effort to convince me to join them I became increasingly aware of the fact that she wasn't going to be able to walk back to the room when they were done. I've watched the show, but I guess this is Jade's first time. She hasn't even finished the first season yet.
Lying in my cool sheets alone in a darkened room, I can't help but feel homesick. Not necessarily for my school or even for my childhood home, but for my friends and my sister. I scrolled through old pictures we had taken together on a trip we'd been on after I'd graduated high school. It was the last time we had nothing but dedicated time together before I left for my freshman year. It was just her and I and we had talked Mom and Sean into sending us to Paris for an entire month. It wasn't the first time we had been, but it was the first time we went without our parents.
We made sure to do all the touristy things even though we've done them several times before. My favorite picture is one of us in front of the Eiffel Tower. It's so played out and passe, but the fact that it's just the two of us out on our own in a different country gives it a certain innocence.
The day was sunny, yet breezy with a smattering of white clouds across the blue skies. We had on these ridiculous sunglasses we just picked up at a gift shop near the tower. I think we only paid three euros for each pair. We've both owned sunglasses by every major brand in a variety of colors and shapes over the years but these three euro sunglasses were just for us. Something we bought on our solo vacation together - and they're one of my favorites to this day.
Renee's platinum curls danced across her face and neck from the breeze and her smile was pure. I, on the other hand, was a beautiful disaster. My violet lipstick smeared across my bottom lip and my white Balmain t-shirt had an espresso stain down the front of it because I was hungover and miserable that morning and couldn't get my shit together no matter how hard I tried.
My favorite thing about this picture is that it's honest. No appearances to keep up. No parents to impress or friends to appease. Before I moved across the country. Before Windsor, and eating disorders, assaults, and secret identities. Before we lost so much.
I wiped a tear as it drifted down my cheek leaving a warm, wet path in its wake. I lock my phone and set it on the side table, rolling onto my back. Making an effort to derail the direction of my thoughts, I watch as the shadows from the trees outside dance across the ceiling when headlights pass through the parking lot outside. I imagine they're different trees. A different time, or a different place, with different people.
Turning again with an exaggerated sigh I fluff and flip my feather pillow. I allow my thoughts to drift again, this time to the secret society.
Assuming it's real, who would be a part of it? I know secret societies are traditionally mostly men. It's 2022 in Hollywood, though. We're forward-thinking here. I have to imagine that women would also be included. Would they include people from sororities or fraternities? Those people are at the top of the social structure but I might argue that those are societies in themselves.
I start making a mental list of who would be valuable to a secret society long term. Lex? Maybe. Definitely Brooklyn and the three J's. Normal dorm girls? Boys? Would they include freshmen like Renee? Was she part of this secret society? I honestly couldn't say. My consideration continues as I drift into a fraught and dreamless sleep.
***
The Casino Night at the frat house was the talk of the campus this past week. The closer the night came the more excitedly Jade and the girls gushed about the party. We had gone out shopping for dresses earlier that afternoon, much to my chagrin. Although I hate shopping, the time I spent with the girls was as close as I think I'll likely get to feeling any sense of normality during my time here.
Both Jade and Andi opted for something more costume-y in nature. Each of their selections was elegant with caviar beading down the bodice and a fringe of beading from the knee to the floor, in red and gold, respectively. They somehow looked more expensive than my Art Nouveau Alexander McQueen cocktail number that I decided to pair with an era-appropriate hairstyle and feathered headband. I'm finishing the look with a pair of seamed pantihose and my classic black Louboutins.
There's something intrinsically sexy about the '20s. Maybe it's all the rebellion, but as we got out of our Towncar to head into the frat house I could tell I wasn't the only one falling prey to the spell. Girls were leaning closer to their counterparts and the men wore shit-eating grins. Despite the glamor of the affair, I could tell that there was debauchery in the air. I have to party enough to fit in while holding back enough not to lose my head. It's a fine line to walk in six-inch stilettos.
I have to admit, this frat house is probably the only building on this entire campus that looks like what it's supposed to be. It's big, brick, and has tacky greek letters atop the front patio. That's where the similarities end, however. The large iron gate concealing a red-brick circular drive leads our way to this gigantic white monstrosity of a home. The architecture alludes to it being constructed in the late sixties or early seventies. A glance around the well-maintained grounds makes me think that there's probably a lot of acreage on this lot. I wonder how far back it goes - but that's a question for another day.