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No weird cult outfit or anything. That was a close shave.
“Hi,” he finally says, in a loud voice, after a few seconds.
I was expecting a pique or even a line from Harry Potter, not for him to greet me like we were old acquaintances or buddies. Which we aren’t.
With a skeptical pout on my face, I turn halfway to the fire, still keeping him in my sights. I point to the flames with my chin. “You invited me to a campfire party? Gee,” I say with a fake look of sadness, “maybe I should have brought marshmallows?”
A muffled noise sounds in his chest. “Come with me,” he orders me as he moves closer, ignoring my joke.
I ignore him. “What’s the program? Are we going to hold hands and jump around the fire singing cheesy songs?”
My tone is teasing, but deep down, I am somewhat relieved. I was expecting something fishy when I came here, only for it be not that far from a normal student party, except for a few details.
His hand rests firmly on my hip. He leans into my ear and whispers, “Come…with…me.”
I run my tongue over my lips as his palm practically burns my skin through my top. As he pulls away, a strange feeling of emptiness washes over me. Eyes on me, he waits with his hand out for me to respond to his invitation. I ignore the hand and invite him to show me the way. I don’t need his fingers to not get lost.
He walks around the fire and heads for the way used by the students TJ talked to earlier. So what, is this some kind of selection process? Those who take this path can still expect to be part of the Pack while the others just have to comfort themselves by partying around the fire with some free beers?
“Where are we going? To find out about the little game everyone was talking about without really mentioning the rules?”
Tucker stops for a moment and glances at me. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean ‘not yet’?” I grumble behind his back. “Look, it’s nice, the grass…and the trees. But I didn’t sign up for a field trip. In fact, I even hate flowers.”
Why am I telling him this? As if he’s interested! But even if a part of me is intrigued and wants to follow him, another part is almost…anxious— hence the verbal diarrhea coming out of me.
And that’s when I notice an old chapel about 30 feet away. Well, that’s pretty weird…
“Hey, man, is this some kind of religious thing? Oh, I’m not even baptized,” I add when he doesn’t answer.
The closer we get, the louder the music gets. I understand that it comes from this half-decrepit chapel. A girl, bursting with laughter, with a glass in her hand, passes through the small door.
“I’m pretty sure this is all a huge sacrilege,” I whisper to myself.
A guy stands at the entrance of the chapel, a box at his feet. When I discover that his face is hidden, my heart misses a beat. A wolf mask covers his eyes and nose. A fucking wolf mask like the few guys back in college who enjoyed howling while promoting the party. He straightens up when he sees Tucker coming.
The latter picks up a mask. Just as I think he’s about to put it on his face, he hands it to me. I step back.
“I don’t think so.”
He moves closer to me and whispers so only I can hear him. “If you want to go in there, you have to wear a mask.”
“I just saw a girl walk through the doors of the chapel and she didn’t have a mask on,” I say, crossing my arms again.
“Not wearing a mask gives you a specific label down there. So does wearing one. Trust me, you have to wear one. Pack members wear them.”
So, TJ, Yeleen, and their friends will be wearing masks. Is this some kind of protection? Or a sign that they belong to the same group? And what does it mean for the people who don’t wear them and enter the chapel?
“But I’m not a member of your pack,” I say.
Tucker gives me a teasing look. “But you’re going to fight to be a part of it, right?”
I have no desire to be part of their pack. The rational part of my brain forbids me to even consider this idea. And yet, here I am, letting my curiosity consume me. I should run away but I can’t.
So, the ones not wearing masks are the ones who want to join Tucker and his friends. Even if I were fighting to be in the game, I shouldn’t be wearing one. So why does Tucker want me to have one?
I don’t have time to think about it before he reaches for me. His fingers rest on the back of my head as he gently puts the mask on me. My breath hits his face directly.
