Page 44 of The Debutantes
“Shit,” I hiss, grabbing Vivian’s and April’s hands and yanking them in the opposite direction. We sprint as fast as we can in our heels, turning into a narrow hallway off the main room. It’s lined with two doors on either side.
I pull on the first one I see, but it’s locked. I try the next one. Same thing. I let out a stream of curses under my breath.
“Y’all?” Vivian is looking behind us, where I can just see the Jester pushing into the hallway.
There’s nowhere to go but deeper. We haul ass until the path turns to another door, markedLES FILLESin curly golden script.
A dead end. Either we hide out in the bathroom or the Jester catches up with us.
I shove the door open, and once we’re all inside, I twist thelock and press my back against it. For a moment, we catch our breath.
“I know they say we always go in groups, but this is a little much, don’t you think?”
We all spin toward the girl standing at the sink, toweling off her hands. She’s white, petite, and curvy, wearing a lavender evening gown that clashes with her hair, which is the kind of unnatural purplish red that can only be achieved via box dye. Her mask is off, the silver ribbon dangling off the sink counter, so it’s even more obvious how young she is. If it weren’t for the diamond stud glinting on her nose, which is against the Beaumont dress code, she could walk right into class with us and no one would bat an eye.
“It was unlocked,” I blurt. “We didn’t—”
“Relax.” She leans against the sink, clearly unafraid of water stains on her dress. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“What?” I ask.
“The member you’re here with. The one you’re running from. Unless y’all have some seriously overactive bladders, I’m assuming that’s why you barged in looking like you’re regretting every decision that got you here.”
Vivian starts to answer, but I cut her off.
“There’s someone chasing after us. A man in a jester costume. Do you know who he is?”
“This place has a lot of guys in a lot of stupid costumes. Can you be more specific?”
Someone bangs on the door, three sharp knocks that make us all jump. The girl recovers first, putting on a cheery tone.
“One minute!” she calls before looking back at us, returning to a whisper. “Okay, y’all need to get out of here.”
“Wait,” April blurts.
I glare at her, but she doesn’t seem to notice. April’s stare is fixed on the girl, determined, and I know what she’s about to ask before it even comes out of her mouth.
“Did you know Margot Landry?”
All at once, the girl’s face changes from confusion to outright dread. Then, like she’s realized she let the tough mask slip, she frowns, crossing her arms.
“Who’s asking?”
“We knew her, too,” April says, the words coming out rushed. “We went to school together. And we’ve been trying to figure out what happened to her. We think it might have something to do with this place.” Her eyes turn desperate. “Please. We need to know.”
“Okay, yeah,” the girl says finally. “I met her here a few times last year. But if y’all go to that rich-kid school, too, then you’rereallynot supposed to be here.”
A chill crawls down my spine. Margot was here. For a moment, the discovery makes me forget my panic.
“Why aren’t we supposed to be here if we go to Beaumont?” I ask.
For a second, she’s quiet. “They don’t like it when girls from their own circle find out about this place.”
My stomach twists, but I press on. “What about you, then? Why areyouhere?”
The girl gives me a look I don’t like at all—like I don’t understand, and it amuses her. “It pays better than serving coffee to whiny out-of-state Tulane kids, I’ll tell you that.”
Before I can demand an elaboration, there’s another bang on the door.
