Caro’s eyes darted between us. “I was just telling Jess this whole weekend was your doing.” Her voice was falsely cheerful. “You’re the mastermind behind Homecoming.”
“I was thinking,” Eric said. “You’re all here in one place, celebrating ten years. It’s Heather’s ten-year anniversary, too, if you think about it. Why not take the opportunity to remember her?”
Frankie shifted uncomfortably and looked to Mint for guidance. Courtney searched past us to where the Chi Os had regrouped, longing in her eyes.
No—this was wrong. The night wasn’t supposed to be about Heather; it was supposed to be about us. My evolution. My triumph.
“What did you have in mind?” Coop asked.
“I thought we could go to her memorial and pay our respects.” Eric looked at Coop, daring him to say no. “Seeing as she couldn’t make it to the party.”
Caro winced and stepped closer to Coop, who put his arm around her shoulders.
I looked around, catching my friends’ eyes. Frankie. Mint. Even Courtney. No one wanted to go. We all wanted Eric to go away, to stop haunting us, reminding us of the black shroud that hung over our friend group. Finally, Mint swallowed and decided, as usual, to be the leader.
“I guess it’s the least we can do,” he said.
No, no, no. If things were unraveling before, now they threatened to go down in flames.
“I guess,” Frankie echoed.
“Okay, but let’s be fast.” Courtney ducked her head and whispered to Mint as if the rest of us couldn’t hear. “I have other friends, you know.”
“I think this is a great idea,” Caro said gamely, giving Eric a sympathetic look. She couldn’t tell there was something wrong. Why couldn’t Caro ever read people, for fuck’s sake?
The second I thought it, I flushed with guilt. Caro’s ignorance, lest I forget, was the only thing keeping us friends.
Eric gestured with a flourish to the lawn outside the tent. “After you.”
In tense silence, we walked as a group, carving a path through the dark trees, away from the light and people. Campus was unusually quiet.
I shivered. “Where is everyone?”
Eric waved. “Oh, you know. They’re all at the frats, diving headfirst into vats of swill and making bad decisions. You remember what it’s like.”
Frankie turned down the path to the right, the one that led to the tree Mr. and Dr. Shelby had planted in Heather’s memory. It was right next to East House, her favorite place on campus, where she’d met us: the best friends she’d ever have.
“Wrong way,” Eric said, cutting to the left.
“I think I know the way to East House,” Frankie scoffed.
“We’re not going to East House.” Eric smiled that sharp-toothed smile again. “We’re going to a place I’ve come to think of as a more meaningful memorial site.”
He started down the path.
What the fuck? I turned to Mint. “Do something.”
“Like what?” Mint said, at the same time Courtney hissed, “Don’t tell him what to do.”
I rolled my eyes.
Frankie watched Eric. “I think we have to follow him. He’s Heather’s brother.”
“Frankie’s right,” Caro said. “Even if he has something weird in mind, we have to put up with it. It’s only a small part of the night. We lost a friend, but he lost way more.”
Every instinct screamed at me to turn on my heels and race back to the tent, or my hotel. Back to safety. But Caro started trailing after Eric, then Frankie, and Mint and Courtney followed. Finally even Coop left me. I forced the panic down and raced to catch up.
We followed Eric into the heart of Greek row, shooting questioning glances at each other, until we came to a stop in front of the Phi Delt house. The imposing, thick-columned mansion was empty, windows dark. The sight was surreal—it was Homecoming weekend, the biggest party of the year. The Phi Delt house should have been exploding with music and people. It certainly was when Mint was social chair, then president.
Mint spun to Eric. “Why is it empty?”
“The Alumni Office decided the Phi Delts and their dates would be more comfortable spending Homecoming weekend in the Chancellor’s Estate. Given their high standing on campus and the exemplary amount of money Phi Delt alumni donate to Duquette every year, it seemed a fitting honor.”
“You cleared the frat house,” Frankie said, his voice a mix of awe and fear.
“Come on,” Eric said. “You don’t need an invitation, right? This is your old stomping grounds. Your dominion, your castle. What do the kids say—where the magic happens?”