“Did she actually say she didn’t like us?” Mei arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Her hair, which she’d done in a sharp bob for the rush party, was waist-length and tipped in lavender today.
Scarlett waved a dismissive hand. “She said she’s not the sorority type—which she’s right about, by the way. So why waste a bid?”
Dahlia watched her through narrowed eyes. “Normally you’re all for inviting as many people as possible. What did you argue last year? ‘We’ll never know how strong someone is until we test them’?”
Dahlia was right. It was something Minnie had always told her.
Tiffany leaned forward. “I’m with Scarlett.” Scarlett flashed her best friend a grateful smile. “Besides, is this really all we know about this girl?” She gestured to the nearly blank page in the Kappa Book.
Mother: Unknown.
Father: Unknown.
History: Unknown.
“She moved around a lot,” Dahlia said. “We found records from her most recent school in Nevada, but she only attended classes there for four months. Before that, she was homeschooled in a town near the Northern California border—”
“I think she has potential,” Mei said. “She doesn’t even know she’s a witch yet. I for one would like to see what she can do.”
“Scarlett.” Dahlia looked at her. “It’s up to you.”
Scarlett blinked in surprise. Normally decisions like this were the president’s to make. But she understood Dahlia’s underlying meaning: If you’re going to lead Kappa next year, you need to be able to make decisions for the group, not just yourself. After a slow, deep breath, Scarlett nodded. “You’re right, Mei. We should give her a chance.” Mei flashed her a smile. Etta grinned too. But Scarlett remained poker-faced as she held up her feather to darken once more. Just because she’d chosen to be magnanimous didn’t mean she had to like it.
They finished voting for the remainder of the potentials: a girl named Ariana Ruiz and one named Bailey Kaplan, who also didn’t know they were witches; a set of twins; and a legacy whose sparkler hadn’t ignited so much as sparked feebly. Scarlett doubted that one would pass the first rite.
When they finished, Dahlia cleared her throat. “Before you go, ladies, I have one more order of business.”
Scarlett sat up straighter, giving Tiffany an excited grin.
“Tiffany. Scarlett. Mei.” Dahlia eyed each of them in turn. “You three are my strongest junior witches.”
We’re your only junior witches thanks to the disaster freshman year, Scarlett thought, then pushed the thought away.
“To ensure that we have an incredible class of new sisters this year, I’m assigning each of you a special role. How you perform in these roles will help us decide on our next class of officers.”
Help you decide who’s stepping into your shoes, you mean. Scarlett fixed her eyes on Dahlia. Whatever it took, she needed to make sure it would be her.
“Tiffany, you’ll be taking on the position of social chair. Organizing all our events and functions falls to you.”
Beside Dahlia, Tiffany nodded eagerly. “I’ll do my best.”
“Mei, you’ll be our representative on the Panhellenic council. You’ll liaise with the other Greek organizations on campus and manage our alumnae relationships.”
Scarlett didn’t envy her friend that. It meant dealing with powerful women like Scarlett’s mother, who had strong opinions about how Westerly in general and Kappa in particular should run. She shot Mei a commiserating wince, and Mei plastered on a brave smile in return.
“Scarlett.”
She straightened.
“You’ll be the membership chair. You’ll design the group Hell Week trials, vet our new inductees, and train them in basic spells—not just during Hell Week but all year, once we select our new sisters.”
Yes. Scarlett bowed her head to hide the sudden, huge grin on her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mei’s smile falter. This was the most important job, and everyone knew it. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” Dahlia nodded. “Remember, sisters, Hell Week, and the whole pledge process, is not about torturing anybody. It’s about finding rare and unusual talent among the sea of average at this school. We need to find girls who will uphold our legacy. Who, like us, are ambitious, talented, driven, smart, and powerful. True Ravens.” She closed her hymnal with a definitive snap and then, with a wave of her hand, burst the distraction spell. Scarlett and Tiffany got to their feet, the sounds of the main green rushing back into their circle.
“Ready for a little competition, sis?” Tiffany asked.
“Bring it on,” Scarlett said, locking arms with her best friend.
Tiffany grinned as her voice sounded in Scarlett’s head. May the best witch win.
Chapter Seven
Vivi
For the first time in years, Vivi woke up smiling. Golden sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains she’d forgotten to close, but she didn’t mind. The sweet gum tree by the window filled the room with the scent of dew, and in the distance, the bell in the clock tower tolled.
The first orientation activity today wasn’t for another hour, so Vivi rolled onto her side and snuggled deeper into her pillow. She replayed the events of last night. The music. The dancing. The sparklers. Her very first party hadn’t been merely a success—it’d been like something out of a dream. Vivi’s lids grew heavy, and she was just about to drift back to sleep when something caught her eye, a lavender envelope on her otherwise empty dresser top. Blinking drowsily, she reached out and picked it up, then settled back into bed. It was surprisingly heavy and unmarked except for her name in cursive and a strangely shaped wax seal on the back—an inverted five-pointed star.
She recognized the symbol and frowned. It was on her mother’s tarot cards, though usually with the point upright.
“Someone left that for you,” said a curt voice that made Vivi flinch under the sheets.
Right. Zoe. In her post-party daze, she’d managed to forget about the existence of her roommate for a few hours. Now she squinted at the girl on the far side of the room, who was already up and, apparently, painting her nails, judging by the astringent scent emanating from her desk area.
“Who?” Vivi yawned as she forced herself into a seated position and then stood up.
“I don’t know. It was just there this morning when I got back from the shower. Whoever it was, tell them not to come into our room without permission again.”
Vivi made a noncommittal noise as she slid her finger under the seal and removed the cream-colored card inside. There was a handwritten message:
Vivian,
It was a pleasure meeting you last night. We would love to get to know you better and cordially invite you to pledge Kappa Rho Nu. We look forward to seeing you at Kappa House on Tuesday evening at eight.
Yours,
Dahlia Everly, President
Vivi stared at the card in confusion. “It’s from Kappa. They’ve invited me to pledge.”
Even Zoe seemed surprised and fixed Vivi with an appraising look, as though searching for something about Vivi she’d missed in her first assessment.