21 Proms Read Online Free PDF Page B

break into unused classrooms because that’s the only place you can really set up a bunch of computers for a tournament. If you’re like Danny and me, you learn how to grappling hook out of your dorm room and break into the cafeteria because sometimes what you really need is a sandwich.
    So, basically, I take off the hinges. No problem if you’re sober, but it takes a while for me and I have to set down my bottle. Then I almost knock it over. The glass makes a hollow sound and scrapes over the concrete. I snatch it up by the neck and stumble inside, leaving the door just leaning there, sagging from the knob.
    Inside, the dust is so thick that the cuffs of my pants are already white with it. The walls are wainscoted in wood, and along the water-streaked boards, I see the outlines of where paintings once hung. I take another sip. The vodka no longer burns as it goes down. I feel like I’m drinking water.
    I loosen my tie and a kind of giddiness comes over me. It’s much cooler to be here than at the prom. I bet Danny forgot to get Daria a corsage and she’s already resenting him. I bet they’re taking stupid posed pictures in front of some kind of draped cloth and a vase full of red, red roses. I bet that the food is tasteless and the music is bad. I bet he’s forgotten that we were going to wear tuxedos on our little breaking-and-entering expedition and had to rent whatever was left. I imagine him in light blue with a ruffled shirt. That makes me almost laugh out loud, but my smile turns sour when I realize that it would actually be funny and I see us both in them, exalting in our dorkitude.
    Maybe I should have just sucked it up and taken the pity date. I wonder if Danny is pissed that I hung up on him, if he thinks that I’m afraid of girls. Suddenly, I’m morose. Being drunk by myself in an old building doesn’t seem as edgy as it did moments before. It seems sad and a little pathetic.
    Just then, I hear a sound down the hallway. I get up, clumsy with booze. My fingers and tongue are so numb that it’s almost pleasurable to stumble. I know that it could be one of the rent-a-cops the school’s probably crawling with or even one of the administrators, but my drunk brain can’t help conjuring up a girl. In my fantasy, she just got dumped by her jock boyfriend, she’s stunningly beautiful, and she goes back to the prom with me on her arm.
    I walk in the direction of the sound and I see candles flickering. In the center of a large room, six robed figures funnel dark liquid into silver flasks. At their center is Ms. Esposito. I’m so surprised that it takes my brain long moments to catch up with what I’m seeing.
    I stumble a little and they all look at me. The whole thing is so surreal that I start to laugh.
    â€œ Ave ,” one of them says. I walk a little closer and I see Xavier. He’s second board in the chess club, which makes him a member of the Pawns.
    I salute him with my almost-empty bottle of Grey Goose.
    â€œ Potestatem obscuri lateris nescis ,” he says. Some of them laugh nervously.
    I frown, trying to figure out what he’s saying. “Did you just tell me that I don’t know the power of the dark side?” More laughter.
    Xavier grins and turns to the others. “He’s okay,” he says. “He passed the test. Besides, I can vouch for him. He’s down. And besides, cornix cornici oculos non effodiet .”
    A crow doesn’t rip out the eyes of another crow. Nice.
    Looking at their faces, I suddenly realize I know them. It’s the Latin Club. Diego, Jenny, Ashley, Mike, and David. And their advisor, Ms. Esposito. Geeks, one and all. My people.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” My words come out slurred.
    â€œBringing Bacchanalia to Wallingford,” says Jenny. “And you’re going to help us.”
    I picture Jenny streaked with mud and blood, rolling around in an orgiastic frenzy, but the image