Breathless (8 page)

“Well, I couldn’t today,” Leesa replied, shaking her head. “And believe me, I tried. To get close I mean, not to kiss him,” she added hastily.

The girls all laughed.

“Wait a minute,” Stacie said. “Are these the people connected with the Moodus Noises? We learned about the Noises in school.”

“Moodus?” Caitlin said, making a face. “Is that even a word?”

“If you’d grown up in Connecticut, you’d have heard about them in history class,” Cali said. “They’re not far from East Hampton, so we got all kinds of stuff about ’em.”

“What are the noises?” Leesa asked.

“Rumblings and tremors underground,” Cali explained. “Stories about the noises go all the way back to Indian times. They’re called the Moodus Noises cuz they occur by the Moodus River… right near where the Mastons live,” she added in a low, spooky tone. “They’ve studied the crap out of the place, but no good explanation has ever been found why there’re so many tremors there. The Indians thought it was a god expressing his anger. We more enlightened folk blame it on those Maston people. The Noises are real, though. All the other stuff—strange blue fires that flare up and vanish, horrible screams in the night—those are just stories. Google it. There’s all kinds of stuff on the Noises.”

Oh great, Leesa thought. The one guy she’s drawn to doesn’t drive a car or have a phone and comes complete with earth tremors, blue flames and a deadly kiss. Oh, well, what should the daughter of a mom bitten by a one-fanged vampire have expected, anyway? Some guy off
The Hills
? She still hoped she’d see him in class next week. Might have to hold off on that first kiss though….

10.  FRAT PARTY

I
t was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Leesa couldn’t believe how fast the first month of school flew by. She was thrilled to finally have a best friend, and she and Cali hung out as often as they could. They did lots of stuff with Stacie and Caitlin as well. Caitlin had a Wii in her room, and quiet Stacie had turned out to be quite the star at
Guitar Hero
. Leesa didn’t play the game much, but she enjoyed listening to the music and watching her friends pound their toy guitars like amped-up rock stars. She was doing well in all her classes, even enjoying a couple of them, especially Professor Clerval’s. The leaves around campus were beginning to turn, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until they began to explode with color.

She was getting to know the surrounding area, usually with Cali, who knew lots of fun places to go. Leesa, Cali and Stacie had gone hiking at nearby Sleeping Giant State Park—Jersey girl Caitlin remaining behind because she “didn’t do woods.” Sleeping Giant was the place Leesa’s mom had suffered her “incident” so many years before, but Leesa hadn’t shared that story with the other girls. She thought the mountain park beautiful, with miles of wooded trails and numerous rock outcroppings providing scenic vistas of the Quinnipiac College campus below. She found nothing foreboding or sinister about the place—maybe the one-fanged vampires hung out on different trails than the ones she and her friends hiked.

The downside to her first month was two-fold. So far, she’d been unable to learn anything about Bradley’s disappearance. She’d visited his freshman dorm, but three years had produced a complete turnover in residents. Bradley had lived off campus the next year, but the few people in the old apartment building who remembered him had no idea where he’d gone. She’d painstakingly searched through four years of Weston yearbooks for information about his girlfriend, but not knowing her last name, she’d been forced to wade through thousands of names looking for any Edwinas. It wasn’t a very common name, and she found only four. None of the pictures looked at all “exotic.” Still, she visited or talked to all of them, without any luck. It seemed Uncle Roger was wrong; Edwina had not been a student at Weston. Maybe she’d only been sitting in on a class with Bradley, or perhaps Edwina wasn’t her real first name. Maybe Uncle Roger simply misremembered what Bradley said.

The second negative concerned the Maston guy. He hadn’t shown up in vampire class since that first night, but Leesa couldn’t get him out of her mind. Twice she thought she’d sensed his presence, once back in the stacks of the library, once walking home to her dorm in the evening, but when she looked around, there was no sign of him. Perhaps she was just imagining it—or desperately hoping for it—but the feeling had been awfully strong. An Internet search for information about the Mastons and the Moodus Noises produced lots of tales and rumors, but precious little fact. She’d found a few pictures of the Mastons and had little doubt the guy from class belonged to that strange group. Her friends advised her to forget about him—indeed, to stay away from him even if he did show up—but after almost a month, he remained in her thoughts as powerfully as ever. She’d even dreamed about him a couple of times, dreams that made her blush whenever she thought about them. Maybe it
would
be best if he never showed up again. But she couldn’t make herself believe that.

She wondered whether the frat party Cali was taking her to tonight—dragging her to, more precisely—would end up in the best of times or worst of times category. This would be her first frat party, and she suspected it was going be the latter. The Beta Psi Delta fraternity was hosting the party, and BPD was notorious enough that when Caitlin heard about it, she reacted with an exuberant, “Cool, you’re gonna party with the Borderlines!” When Leesa asked what she meant, Caitlin explained BPD also stood for Borderline Personality Disorder and that BPD parties were famous for living up to their wild nickname. Leesa tried to talk Cali out of going—she didn’t even drink, for god’s sake—but Cali was having none of it, saying it was great Leesa didn’t drink, that Leesa could keep her out of trouble.

So here she was, trying without much success to put together an outfit for a party she didn’t really want to go to. She felt confident her loose red and gray diamond-patterned skirt, chosen by Cali on a shopping trip to Middletown a few weeks ago, would be suitably hip. She knew Cali would want her to wear the red leather shoes she’d picked to go with it, but they were walking to the party, and there was no way Leesa was doing that on three-inch stilettos!

She looked up as Cali flounced into the room.

“Hey, party girl, you almost ready?” Cali asked in a tone that matched her “I’m here to party” outfit.

She was wearing what looked almost like a private school uniform top, plaid with a Peter Pan collar, or what would have looked private schoolish if it wasn’t unbuttoned farther down than Leesa would ever dare and didn’t have skulls and hearts leading diagonally down the front to a frayed edge. She had paired it with a short black skirt that sat low on her hips and red fishnets ripped in several places. Black platform shoes made her nearly as tall as Leesa. Leesa wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stand in the shoes, much less walk in them.

             
“Not even close,” Leesa replied. She indicated her new skirt. “I don’t know what to wear with this thing.”

             
Cali crossed to Leesa’s closet. “Let’s see what you got.” She began sorting through the hanging clothes. “We don’t want you lookin’
too
sexy now. Gotta save that for me.” She pulled out a gray tie-neck top with a scalloped bottom edge. “Try this.”

             
Leesa pulled the top on and studied herself in the wall mirror. The cutely attired, modestly sexy girl staring back at her was unfamiliar, but she liked the way she looked. The shadow and liner Cali had shown her how to apply really made her blue eyes pop. She hoped she’d be able to do all this by herself before too long.

             
“Are you sure it’s cool to bring me along?” Leesa asked. Cali had been invited to the “Thirsty Thursday” party by a guy in her history class.

             
“Yeah, no problem.” Cali replied. “Sean said the only qualification to get in is a pair of tits.” She winked. “And you got that covered, for sure.”

             
Leesa blushed and reached for her hair.

Cali grabbed Leesa’s wrist and pulled her hand down. “Rule thirty-nine. No twirling your hair at the party. Guys think it means you’re horny. It’s gonna be hard enough to keep those frat boys off you.”

“Ha! Doubtful.” Looking at Cali’s provocative outfit, Leesa guessed her friend would be the one drawing the lion’s share of the attention, and that was just fine with her.

“I think we’re ready to rock,” Cali said. “Let’s go.”

“Should we take sweaters?” Leesa asked.

“Nah. It’s not that far. It’s gonna be hot inside. They’d just be a hassle once we’re there. It’s not too cold—except maybe for wimps from San Diego,” she teased.

As Cali promised, the early-October evening was crisp but not uncomfortable. Streetlights fashioned to look like hundred-year-old gas lamps poured golden light onto the sidewalk, and a three-quarter moon added to the brightness. Leesa smelled fresh-cut grass and guessed one of the nearby lawns had been mown late in the day. They walked quickly, Leesa limping and Cali tromping in her platforms. They must look like quite the pair, Leesa thought—more like a couple of drunk kids stumbling home
from
a party than two stone-sober girls on their way to one.

She heard the festivities before they even turned the corner onto Fraternity Row. Thumping dance music seemed almost to vibrate the sidewalk, and the tumult of voices and laughter was nearly as loud. Anyone heading for the Borderline’s party wouldn’t need directions, that was for sure. The BPD house was white with green trim, located near the center of the string of huge wooden houses that made up Fraternity Row. Three big green Greek letters—beta, psi and delta—were attached above the raised front entrance. Light spilled from all but one of the dozen or so front windows. A bed sheet painted with giant green letters proclaiming “Thirsty Thursday” flapped beneath one of the upper windows. Outside, a small crowd of kids milled about on the front lawn and sidewalk, but the bulk of the noise emanated from inside the old house.

Cali grabbed Leesa’s arm and led her toward the front steps. A short line of kids filled the stairs, waiting to show ID to receive the precious hand stamp marking them as old enough to drink. Leesa was willing to bet that once inside, it probably didn’t matter whether you were stamped or not. Not at a party like this one. She began to regret letting Cali talk her into coming, but pushed the feeling aside. She had to grow up sometime. Why not start now?

“Rule forty-six,” Cali said as they waited in line. “Don’t drink anything unless you pour it yourself, even soda or juice, or if someone gives you an unopened can. Some of these frat boys will do anything to get you naked, including drugging your drink.”

“Don’t worry,” Leesa said. “It’s Diet Pepsi or Coke for me.”

“Unopened,” Cali repeated. “They can drug a can of soda as easy as a glass.”

The two guys flanking the doorway at the top of the stairs were clearly upperclassmen, good-looking in a preppie sort of way, confident in their manner, enjoying their position of authority. Both wore casual tan sport coats open over black T-shirts. One guy’s shirt bore a picture of President Obama; the other’s was decorated with a screaming gray skull. They gave Leesa and Cali practiced once-overs when the two girls reached the top of the stairs.

Skull guy flashed a wide grin. “Hello, ladies. Welcome to BPD.”

“Let me stamp your hand,” Obama shirt said, grabbing Leesa’s wrist without even waiting to see if she had ID.

Leesa gently disengaged her arm from his grip. “I don’t drink.” She thought she saw a flicker of disappointment cross his face.

“But I do,” Cali said, smiling and extending her hand flirtatiously.

The guy laughed and took Cali’s wrist, quickly stamping the back of her hand. He held his grip even after he was done, letting his eyes move up and down Cali’s trim body. “I bet you do,” he said, smiling. He gave her wrist a light squeeze before letting go. “Have a great time, girls.”

Leesa and Cali squeezed past the two guys into the house.

“I told you hanging with you would pay off,” Cali laughed, holding out her arm and admiring the dark skull stamp on the back of her hand.

Inside the confines of the crowded house, the noise seemed to have doubled. The bouncy beat of the Ting Tings’ “Shut Up and Let Me Go” echoed through the place. Loud chatter competed with the music, and frequent shrieks of laughter or shock—Leesa couldn’t tell which—rose above the din. The room was filled with dancers gyrating wildly to the song’s punchy drumbeat, and there seemed to be at least four women here for every guy. These frat guys sure had a good thing going, Leesa thought as she and Cali threaded their way to the far side of the room, where the crush of people was less thick.

Despite the open door and windows, the air was hot from so many bodies, and Leesa was glad she hadn’t worn a sweater. She watched Cali begin to sway to the music, looking enviously at Cali’s mostly unbuttoned top. Heck, even the rips in her fishnets looked like they would help keep her cool. Leesa was glad her own legs were bare.

A guy in what seemed to be the standard BPD uniform of sport coat and T-shirt edged his way close to Leesa and Cali. His T-shirt was brown, adorned with a classic peace symbol. The guy was cute in a not cute sort of way, with thick black hair and big brown eyes. Leesa noticed a band of sweat glinting on his forehead. She wondered how hot the place would have to get before the BPD jackets came off.