Secret Society Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

flickering darkly by the glow of the tableside tea lights, and started ticking off my supposed bricks. ―Summer internship, position on the magazine staff, commencement issue theme, secret society membership. When was the last time you did something just because it was fun?‖

    ―Lydia and I went dancing at Froggie‘s last weekend.‖

    ―Something big.‖

    I raised my eyebrow. ―Something like…getting into a relationship with you?‖

    ―For example.‖

    ―Brandon, I think we have a great friendship. I don‘t want to mess it up.‖

    He rolled his eyes. ―Cliché alert.‖

    The waitress came by with the check. I made feeble motions toward my handbag, but Brandon shook his head and pulled out his wallet.

    ―I‘ll get the next one,‖ I offered, though I knew he wouldn‘t let me. Brandon did things like hold open doors and pull out chairs and pay for dinners. He also had the ability to engineer a type of smile that I knew was just for me. The Amy-smile. It was intoxicating. And I knew if I let myself fall for him, I‘d crash like a four-fold stinger.

    ―Look, we‘ve talked about this.‖ I slipped my arms back into my coat. ―You‘re one of my best friends, and I‘m afraid that if I get involved with you, and it doesn‘t work out, I‘ll lose that.‖

    Brandon signed his name across the receipt in a frustrated scrawl. ―Amy,‖ he said slowly, not looking up. ―We are involved. And it‘s not working out.‖

    ―You know what I mean.‖ I ducked my head.

    He sighed. ―Let‘s get out of here.‖ We stood, and headed to the door, but before we got to the pink plaster Buddha at the entrance, he turned to me and looked me square in the eye. ―Just promise me one thing. Just once in your life, just for kicks, don‘t overthink, okay? See how it goes.‖

    I nodded. ―Okay.‖

    Brandon walked me back to my dorm entryway, and I, in defiance of the promise I‘d just made, brainstormed ways to leave him at the door of my suite without hurting his feelings.

    Which, as it turns out, was unnecessary. The door to my suite stood open, and Lydia sat on the couch inside our common room. She still wore her jacket, her lap was full of books, and she was staring fixedly at a small, square piece of paper sitting in the middle of the floor.

    ―Lydia?‖ I said, waving a hand in front of her face. ―Are you all right?‖

    She didn‘t look up at me, didn‘t even blink, just whispered, ―It‘s yours.‖

    Brandon furrowed his brow and swiped the paper off the floor. ―Sure is,‖ he said, handing me a small white envelope edged in glossy black and sealed with a dollop of dark wax. ―They must have slipped it under the door.‖

    I turned the envelope over in my hands. It was made of heavy, luxurious linen paper, and my name had been printed on the front in an odd, angular font.

    But it was the back that truly held my interest, for into the solid black wax was pressed the unmistakable imprint of a rose inside an elongated hexagon.

    The seal of Rose & Grave.

    I stuffed the envelope into my jacket pocket quicker than a jock with a cheat sheet, and then turned to my friends.

    ―So Quill came through after all?‖ Brandon said with a wry smile.

    ―Quill & Ink,‖ Lydia said in that same strange, flat voice, ―gives out blue-and-silver edged envelopes.‖

    Brandon and I exchanged looks at Lydia‘s display of society obsession. ―So who gives out black ones?‖ he asked her.

    Lydia‘s eyes met mine, but she said nothing, and I knew then that she‘d gotten a very good look at that seal. If she was knowledgeable about random society-stationery factoids, then she sure as hell knew what that seal meant.

    I turned to Brandon. ―Thanks so much for dinner. I wish I could hang out more, but it‘s getting late, and I have a lot of work to do tonight—‖

    ―No way.‖ He crossed his arms over his sweatshirt and planted his feet on my parquet. ―Not until I get to see that envelope again.‖

    Lydia