Diana Peterfreund - Under the Rose

Great. Now I was the Boy Who Cried Wolf because I was always calling “Conspiracy.” I emerged from my room. “Okay, but I’m not wrong about her telling Micah about my C.B. And I’m going to confront her about it.” I crossed to the door. “Good talking to you.”

“Wait a second! I listened to you, now you listen to me.”

“Yeah, you listened to me good. Look, I have to run….” I turned the knob.

“What are you doing with George?”

I froze and turned to him. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, Amy. You’re sleeping with him.”

I laughed. “Like that’s any of your business?”

“As Secretary of D177, it is my business.”

I crossed my arms. “I don’t think so. This has nothing to do with what happens in Rose & Grave.”

“I know for a fact it has everything to do with what happens in our tomb.” He met my eyes full-on, and my breath hitched. Was the Inner Temple bugged all along? Oh, God, how embarrassing. “I don’t understand why you would choose this time, when everything is so fragile, to weaken us further.”

“Are you kidding? Weaken the society? It’s barbarian matters. What George and I— George and I, not Puck and Bugaboo—choose to do won’t affect you.”

“We both know that’s not true. You don’t expect this little fling of yours to go on forever, do you? You know George. And when it’s over, someone is going to be hurt, and the Diggers will be the ones to suffer for it. Society incest is a terrible idea.”

You know George? Yes, I did, and I knew the man in front of me, too. “I’m going to say this once, and since you’re a smart guy who managed to snag himself not only a slot in Phi Beta Kappa, but also a PBK honey, I’m sure you’ll be able to understand it. I’ll fuck whom I want to, and neither you nor any other Digger gets to tell me otherwise. Unlike you, George and I are being perfectly honest about what we’re looking for in our relationship.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Josh stood now.

“Exactly what you think it does. How dare you accuse me of being the type to break my oaths for personal reasons? If that were true, I’d have told Lydia about you a long time ago.” I put my hand on the door. “But hey, maybe you’re right. Maybe I should. I don’t know about George and me, but I know your relationship isn’t going to last forever, either. I promise you, if you hurt my best friend, and I stood idly by and watched it happen like a good little Digger, I will break my oaths. I’ll do my best to ruin your life, and I don’t care what kind of vows I took.”

Suffice it to say Josh and I weren’t exactly friendly after that. It bothered me more than I’d expected it to. After all, we were supposed to lean on one another in times of trouble, and instead I’d alienated one of my favorite brothers. Jenny wasn’t returning my phone calls or e-mails, and George didn’t want to talk about any of it. Due to the chilly, uncomfortable, and frustrating atmosphere, I was understandably relieved when Clarissa and Demetria called a meeting of the Diggirls the day before our next society meeting. I looked forward to the chance to chill with some of my friendlier compatriots (my suite had turned into a Cold War zone) and finally have it out with Jenny.

Except when I arrived at the campus pizza joint where the Diggirls were supposed to meet, there were only four knights waiting for me: Clarissa, Demetria, Mara, and Odile. The little sneak had opted out. Well, no matter. I’d share my suspicions with the girls and see if they took me more seriously than Josh had.

“You’re late,” said Clarissa, scooting over in the booth and taking her crinkle-plastic cup full of diet pop with her. “I got your usual small Greek salad. I don’t know how you can deal with all that fat.” (“Small” was a misnomer when it came to the Greek salad at Normandy Pizza. It was roughly the size and shape of a football and drenched in feta cheese bits, olives, and dressing.)

“Yum,” I said, sliding into the booth. “Anyone know where Jenny is?”

Demetria shrugged. “This isn’t the first time she’s wimped out on us. Girl doesn’t have her priorities straight.”

Clarissa nodded her agreement. “Have any of you ever seen her tattoo? I think she didn’t get one.”

Mara shuddered delicately. “Can I express once more how happy I am I joined your merry band after the whole tattoo phase? Staining one’s skin is a sign of barbarism.”

The other four of us looked at one another and smiled. “In this case,” I said, “it’s exactly the opposite.”

“I hope she shows up,” said Clarissa. “But I’m not going to hold my breath. We’ve got a lot to talk about, so let’s get started and she can catch up. This whole leak situation really has the patriarchs rattled. Frankly, you’d think they’d be nicer, considering we’re the ones protecting their secrets.”

“Spoken like someone who would sell secrets just to get back at them for being jerks,” Demetria said with a smile. “But have you seen that website? Come on. I refuse to let myself get up in arms over something with a flashing tiled background and animated gifs. Real firebrands would go for something professional-looking.”

“The issue isn’t the website,” Clarissa said. “It’s who the website turns on to the story. Josh says—”

I rolled my eyes. “Josh says an awful lot, but just because he’s the Secretary doesn’t mean he’s the boss of us. To listen to him talk, sometimes you’d think we should each be strip-searched upon entering or leaving the tomb!”

“Tell me about it,” said Odile. “You should have heard the interrogation I got when I came back from New York last month. Some timing, huh? And he was all, ‘Terribly convenient for you to be absent the day the leak is broadcast, Lil’ Demon.’ Right. As if I’d be selling my services to some conspiracy-theorist website the same weekend I’m hosting Saturday Night Live. Why the hell would I do something like that when I had a much larger audience just waiting for me to spill some Eli goss? I swear the only thing Lorne ever wants me to talk about is the seedy underbelly of this school.” And then she coughed.

Were this a Dickens novel, this would be a signal that Odile had contracted consumption, and would die within a few chapters. But in my world, it meant something else entirely. Mara and I started in our seats and then, for the first time in our relationship, our eyes met in understanding. We looked from Demetria to Odile, and back again.

“What?” said Clarissa as Demetria ducked her head. Realization slowly dawned on Miss High Society. “Ohhhh.”

“Did you two hook up?” Mara said with a gasp.

“No!” Demetria protested…too much.

Odile shot her an incredulous glance.

“Eww,” said Clarissa. “Society incest. Bad idea.”

“It is?” I asked, then occupied myself with my salad. Shut up, Amy, or the cat will really be out of the coffin.

“Duh, of course!” Clarissa said.

“I don’t think so,” said Odile.

Demetria snorted. “Of course you’d say that. You’re not really the type to concern yourself with taboos, are you? A regular George Prescott, but without the dick.”

“I didn’t see you complaining,” Odile snapped.

Clarissa sliced her hand down between them. “Whoa there, ladies.”

“Forget about it,” said Demetria. “It was silly.” She caught Odile’s eye. “No offense, but admit it, it was silly.”

Odile shrugged, Mara was looking more scandalized than I’d ever seen her (which is saying something), and I was constructing a little tower of lettuce, feta, olives, and tomatoes on my fork. A regular George Prescott?