I'm sorry for making you wait so long, so here's 9k of content!
Thanks to professor-maka and makapedia for general revision and feedback. Big thanks also go to therewithasmile and l0chn3ss, who helped me writer the Halloween party scene in a conscientious way.
Warnings for mild alcohol consumption, racist halloween costumes.
Soul (3:00): how do u feel today
Maka (3:01): I've quarantined myself. Not great.
Maka (3:05): Can you do me a favor and get me more iced tea?
Soul (3:08): after class
With a sigh, Soul put his phone face down and rested his forehead on the desk, allowing a jaunty lullaby of Spanish dialogue to drift in and out of his consciousness. The weeks leading up to Halloween were crawling at such an insufferable and lethargic pace that he might as well just sleep through the entire month.
Since that day outside the language building, he and Patty were magnets of opposite polarity, bouncing apart to maintain a constant, unbreachable distance. There was a dull ache that dug its claws further into Soul's chest when he saw her twirl away when they walked too close in the hall, but it wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before. Now, Patty treated him with the same cautious indifference as everyone else. No big deal.
Well, almost everyone else. Without his usual Spanish partner to whisper to, Soul had struck up a friendship with the pernicious Kim Diehl. He didn't appreciate her attempts to ensnare him in her latest con ("I know someone who can grind down teeth on the cheap, if you want to fix your face") or recruit him as an accomplice ("You look like a guy who knows his way around the warehouse district"), but she was irreverent and clever and she helped pass the time during the endless Spanish films that blurred together into a bland cinematic mess.
Thinking once again of that confrontation with Patty and Maka, Soul shuddered and buried his head deeper in his arms.
Soul often wondered if the girls had talked about him, about that huge misunderstanding about their friendship, emphasis on friend, or about the fact that she felt too awkward to be around him anymore. It was impossible for him to know what conversations or secrets the they shared in private, but it was also pretty unreasonable for him to ask. Maka's constant effort to hang out with him and share an iced tea over matching lovesick hearts was comfort enough.
The abrupt flickering of the lights and pausing of the film signalled that Spanish Cinema was over for the week. "Your reviews of Viridiana are due next class," his professor said. "Email me if you have any questions."
Patty was out the door like a bullet. As the rest of his classmates filed out the door, some looking deeply disturbed by what transpired on screen, Soul plotted how he could coast without wasting another three hours trying to rewatch a movie he had just day-dreamed through.
Back at the Gallows, the dorm lobby was decorated with pumpkin stickers and plastic autumn leaves in an attempt to give the space a more seasonal, festive feel, but Soul wasn't really in the mood for that pumpkin-everything crap. Fall in Death City was a sweaty farce compared to the crisp, vibrant Autumn with a capital A that he grew up with in Long Island.
It was a lucky thing that Kid's decorative impulses never changed with the seasons. The apartment remained comfortable neutral ground no matter what madness was going on outside of it, seasonal or otherwise. The front door was open, so Soul strolled inside, dropping off his heavy schoolbooks and fishing his wallet out of his backpack. If he was going to buy the outrageous amount of iced tea Maka was requesting, he needed to drop the extra weight.
A thin line of light trickled through the bottoms of Kid and Blake's doors. Soul had almost cleared the common room and made it out of the apartment unnoticed by either of them, but Blake loudly shot that horse in the face.
"HEY, whoah, no, where are you going?" Blake kicked open his bedroom door and bounded to his roommate, who was caught in the door frame a mere step away from freedom.
Soul slouched in the doorway and replied, "Her highness is sick, so I'm-"
"Screw her hiney-ness, your deity requests your undivided attention." Soul closed the dorm door and submitted himself to whatever his friend had planned. Blake approached Kid's room and banged on the cheap wooden door with his fist. "Hear that, follower? I have a big proclamation to make!"
Judging by Kid's sharp tone, he did not take kindly to this interruption. "Enough! I'm coming, hold on."
Kid emerged from his room in the most casual clothes he owned-a slim-fit maroon henley, a pair of dark jeans, and oxblood leather shoes. He took the maxim to 'dress for the job you want, not the one you have' more seriously than most college students.
"Glad to have you back in the land of the living," Blake said, clapping Kid on the back. "Listen, I just got a big opportunity for us. The brothers of Star Frat-and me, your god-personally invite you to our big Halloween bash next Saturday!" Blake's face froze in an ecstatic smile, which grew strained and twitchy as his friends remained silent and uncomprehending. "Guys," he said. "I just invited you to the motherfucking rapture. Overflowing thanks would be nice."
Finally, Kid spoke up. "But I thought you weren't allowed to invite unaffiliated men to your parties." The reason neither Kid nor Soul had met Blake's fraternity brothers more than once was because Star Frat placed immense value on its exclusivity. Guys who didn't pledge the frat didn't get to enjoy its wild events, free booze, or attractive groupies.
"True," Blake said with an enthusiastic nod. "We only invite brothers, women...and recruits." Those waggling eyebrows could only mean one thing. It clicked, and Soul and Kid stared at Blake with mirrored expressions of astonishment and abject horror. Blake mistook their shock for excitement and grabbed each by shoulders. "The brothers want you. Both of you guys. It's a little weird to rush sophomores, but after Soul and Red got to know each other and I talked you up, White Star gave me the green light to explore your membership in Sigma Tau Rho!"
Slowly turning towards Soul, Kid whispered with a voice dripping of suspicion and betrayal. "You got to know whom?"
Soul could do nothing but shrug, because that one meal he'd had with Red Star was the exact opposite of friendly or pleasant, and its occurrence had seemed so irrelevant compared to the rest of his problems that it had hardly registered as a single blip in his memory. How he convinced Star Frat that he ever, ever, wanted to join their little fuckboy posse was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, but somehow he had made the cut, and his best bro was so full to the brim with excitement that Soul didn't know the kindest way to bluntly squash his dreams.
Hopefully, Kid would pull through and supply the bitter pill. "Well to be truthful Blake, I have a very busy academic schedule," he said with deliberate slowness. "I'm not sure if I could fully commit to a fraternity."
"Me too," Soul added hastily. "I'm really slammed this semester."
"Come on!" Blake pleaded. "I'm not asking you to join right this second. Just come to the party and see how mega awesome amazing we all are."
"Uhh…" Soul glance at Kid, mentally begging him to intervene. There was no way he could say no to something that meant so much to Blake without backup. "I guess going to the party doesn't sound so bad."
"Right," Kid agreed, tight-lipped. "We can attend one party. That isn't unreasonable."
Blake enveloped them both in a strong-armed hug. "I'm so fucking amped! Just think of it, us three amigos, the brothers, partying every night, livin' the high life. I've been pushing for this all semester, and it's been killing me not to tell you guys!" He released them, eyes alight with excitement. "I gotta tell Tsubaki, she's gonna be so thrilled!" With one last 'Yahoo!,' Blake scampered into his room.
The moment their roommate shut his bedroom door, Kid's head snapped towards him. "This is all your fault!" Kid hissed. "I was supposed to be the diplomatic one who deferred to your judgement, and you were supposed to be the confrontational one who gave him a harsh, unequivocal, unnegotiable no!"
Soul had been hoping for the exact same thing, but that didn't stop him from feeling defensive. "You're too chickenshit to just admit you didn't want to go, and now it's my fault?"
"You're his bro! I'm just his friend. It had to be you to break the bad news." Kid began to nibble on his thumbnail. "And now I have to attend a frat party. Unbelieveable." He stormed back into his room and slammed the door.
Unwilling to stay in an apartment that was equal parts piss-yourself-excited and excite-yourself-pissed, Soul grabbed his wallet and left on his iced tea run. There were better places to waste his time than here.
Perishables, the on-campus convenience store, was a glorified 7-Eleven with trumped up prices and a frustratingly narrow selection. Students usually ended up there to get chasers and munchies, sometimes flour and eggs to make cupcakes for club bake sales and whatnot. Maka did not normally give her business to Perishables because she lived off-campus, but Soul didn't know where better to get her iced tea.
A bell dinged when he strode into the store, eyes forward and hands warm in his pockets. Soul browsed the potato chip aisle, aimless and bored, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. A tall girl with dirty blonde hair tucked behind her ears and a look of snide relaxation was standing behind him. He noticed that she was wearing an official Perishables t-shirt, marking her as a store employee. The dinky t-shirt wasn't designed to make the wearer look attractive, but that certainly didn't stop this girl from rocking it all the same.
"Look, my manager told me to follow you around so you don't steal anything," the tall blonde said. "Just a heads up so you don't think I'm trying to hit on you."
When it came to shopping, Soul's surly face really didn't do him any favors. He often ran into retail workers quivering in the aisle, scared shitless as they followed him at their manager's behest. This was the first time a suspicious store employee straight up admitted that they were following Soul, yet the honesty didn't make him feel any better about it. With a curt "thanks," he continued down the aisle with a deepening scowl. Spying the iced tea stacked in the store refrigerator, he lumbered over and opened the fridge door.
"Hey, I know who you are," he heard the girl say behind him. "You're Maka's not-boyfriend."
Soul paused by the refrigerator door and closed his eyes so he could feel the brisk cold air waft onto his face and chill his skin. "So you know Maka?" he asked, hefting a twelve pack of clinking iced teas off the shelf and cradling it in his arms.
Despite being a store employee, the blonde watched Soul struggle to negotiate the bulky drinks without bothering to lift a finger. "Sure. She's basically attached to my sister-but not so much anymore, from what I hear." The blonde leaned against the fridge. "The name's Liz. Liz Thompson."
So that was how she seemed to know who he was, though whether it was Maka or Patty that had spilled the beans remained a mystery. Soul tightened his grip on those iced teas, because the last thing he wanted was to drop them like a fool because he was in the presence of her older sister.
Oh shit. Through the simple act of running into someone at the convenience store while he was minding his own damned business, Soul now found himself in the middle of that fleeting stage of friendship called a 'first impression.' Historically, Soul mangled first impressions before he even opened his mouth, but this one might still be salvaged. He only had one chance, and he couldn't fuck this one up. Not if this girl was Maka's friend and Patty's older sister-slash-idol.
"Patty talks about you a lot in Spanish," Soul said, daring to smile. "It's almost like meeting a celebrity."
Liz chuckled-a good sign. "I know you're joking, but you don't know exactly how true that is. Come on, I'll ring you up."
He followed Liz to the register, where she scanned his two 12-packs of iced tea and ran his credit card. When she was done, Liz leaned over the counter. "You better go before the manager thinks I'm wasting time and money," she said, nodding to the left.
Curious to see who the hell this manager that found him so thuggish was, Soul followed her cue and looked towards the left of the store. Motherfucking Kim Diehl, perched on a high stool in the storage room, gave him a cheeky salute and mouthed, 'I'm watching you.' Smiling, Soul saluted back.
The trashcans by the dinky yellow building Maka called home were upright and untouched by nighttime hooligans when he finally arrived with ample iced tea supplies. He climbed the porch stairs, glass bottles clinking with every step, and used his forehead to knock on Maka's door.
It was quite obvious that Maka had not been lying about being sick when she answered the door shivering. She had clearly stepped out of the shower no more than twenty seconds ago-a futile attempt to rally herself for a night of studying no doubt-but a fresh rinse made Maka look more like clammy death. Dressed in sweatpants and a baggy tshirt with water stains blooming across the shoulders and collar, she patted her damp hair with a towel and failed to muster her usually shining smile.
"You look cute," he flatlined.
Her eyes were too dead from a lack of sleep and unending headaches to betray her emotions, but because this was Maka, she made her feelings perfectly clear anyway. "I don't need this negativity in my sickly condition," she responded with a sniff and stepped away from the door; her self-imposed quarantine didn't apply to him. "It's a good thing you overdelivered on the iced tea." Sickness or no, Maka lifted the two 12-packs of iced tea out of Soul's arms with ease and perched them on her one of her narrow, boney shoulders.
Maka's wet towel was unceremoniously dropped on the threshold of the front door. Mumbling "That's how you get mold, Maka," Soul picked it up and headed inside.
Maka's tiny apartment wasn't impeccably clean by any means, it was more like a controlled chaos. Sure, the posters were slapped onto the walls askew, the countertops hosted various piles of spam mail and magazines, and every drawer qualified as some kind of 'junk drawer,' but Maka had a system in place that she stuck to religiously. With any luck, her strict adherence to that system might make her dream marriage with the hyper-meticulous Kid easier to swallow.
Well, easier for him to swallow. The more Soul got to know Maka, the less he actually felt she and Kid were compatible. Lovestruck or no, Maka's quest felt like taking scissors to a pair of puzzle pieces and forcing them to fit. As his sick friend carried the iced teas into her galley-style kitchen and placed them in her fridge, Soul wondered what would make her more devastated: finding out Kid wasn't interested on her own or hearing it from him first?
"So how was the movie?" Maka asked, snapping the cap off her iced tea. "I wanted to hear about the end."
Soul leaned against the kitchen doorframe and crossed his arms, pretending to remember the conclusion of a Spanish film he didn't pay attention to. "It's a pretty typical Spanish movie," he started. "Depressing. Violent. There's not much to say about it."
"But what happened to the heroine?"
"Uhh, the nun? Yeah, she died." This lie was probably close enough to the truth, considering the direction most of the Spanish movies in his class went. They either ended in a lot of death or a lot of sex.
Maka took one more sip of her drink before replacing the cap. "No she didn't," she said with a sigh. "I looked up Vee-ree-dye-anna before you came over." Soul winced at her mangled attempt at Spanish. "The nun doesn't die. She has an implied threesome with her cousin and some maid."
"For what it's worth, that was my second guess."
"You wouldn't even have to guess if you watched it in the first place. Come here." She grabbed her iced tea off the counter and led him to the living room. Against one wall was a red couch with thin, curved arms. Despite the usual lack of cushions, Maka had erected a large nest of blankets and pillows from her bed. She snuggled into it like a caterpillar settling into a cocoon and beckoned him to follow. Shirking off his sweatshirt, Soul obeyed and nestled himself beside her.
On Maka's lap, her computer was already open to a streamed version of Viridiana.
"I watched it while you were in class," Maka admitted. "What you said about it last week sounded interesting, and I finished all my work earlier and had nothing to do."
Unsaid was Maka's clear desire to talk about this movie, which apparently had interested her enough that she watched it on her own. Soul had originally told her about Viridiana to make small talk, to take up conversational space now that he was too nervous to bring up Patty or float the idea that Kid wasn't a match for her. He didn't realize Maka had actually listened. Or that she actually cared.
Making sure that the box of tissues was close by to Maka's nasty dripping nose, they fast-forwarded the movie an hour and started to watch.
"So I'm on the hook to go to the big Halloween party at Star Frat next Saturday," Soul mentioned without looking away from the screen. "It's going to be a shitshow. Wanna come?" His heart picked up a little as he waited for her answer.
"I should be over this bug by then, so why not?" she finally said. "I didn't think frat parties were your thing."
"I would rather shatter my own knee cap than go to that party," Soul said in monotone. "But Blake puts a lot of effort into making time for me and Kid even though he's constantly booked up with Star Frat. Supporting him at one party is the least I can do." As a reluctant afterthought, he added, "Plus Kid's coming, too."
"What?" Maka pursed her lips, rethinking the whole thing. "Well, in that case we need some impressive costumes."
Hopefully that 'we' didn't suggest that they were wearing a lame duo costume.
It was exactly a week later, just after Soul's Spanish Cinema class spent its entire session discussing Viridiana and peer reviewing their essays, when it hit Soul that he was seriously going to attend this Star Frat Halloween party. When he returned home from class with heavy feet and sleepy eyes, Soul saw his roommate Kid leaning against Blake's bedroom door with his ear pressed to the wood. Kid held a finger to his lips to signal Soul to remain quiet as Tsubaki's voice rose within Blake's room.
They were arguing. Blake and Tsubaki, the perfect power couple that never fought or disagreed about anything. He had always thought Tsubaki was too flexible and forgiving to get truly mad at Blake-a truly miraculous feat considering her boyfriend's boisterous personality. At the same time, Blake was extremely courteous of Tsubaki's boundaries and receptive to criticism; he would do anything to achieve godly perfection after all. A shouting match was just out of character, for both of them.
Soul slowly dropped his backpack to the floor and crept over to Kid. He leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, careful not to alert the squabbling couple in the other room. With only a single layer of drywall separating himself from the fight, Soul could hear them clearly.
"But it's not okay!" Tsubaki said within Blake's room. "All of us from DUJA are upset about this, and you should be too! They're making a mockery of us Blake!"
That feeling of shame Soul felt while snooping in Kid's room came rushing back, and he jerked away from the wall before he could eavesdrop anymore.
"What's going on?" Soul whispered.
Kid detached his ear from the door and swiveled to his friend. "I'll get you up to speed," Kid whispered. "Star Frat just voted on its Halloween party theme. Blake's choice, Togas and Yoga, was eliminated almost immediately. The two frontrunners, if you will, were CEOS and Corporate Hoes and Gangstas and Geishas." Kid cringed as he spoke the words. "The election was a tossup until the introduction of darkhorse candidate Robots and Sluts, which then split the misogynist vote and paved the way for the racist choice, Gangstas and Geishas, to secure the win. And now," He paused his muted rant to shoot Soul an accusatory look. "Since I'm obligated to attend this party, I have to find a costume that completely covers my face and obscures my silhouette so that when photos of this horrible event inevitably end up all over the Internet, I won't go down with them!"
"Yeah, but what's going on with those two?" Soul asked, pointing at Blake's closed door.
"Well," Kid said. "It's two nights before Halloween and Tsubaki no longer wants to attend the party at all. That's what's going on. In case you couldn't tell, I agree with her. You think he'll mind if I don't go if Tsubaki doesn't too?"
"Of course he would-especially if Tsubaki bailed. And there's no way you're abandoning me at a Star Frat party."
The raised voices muffled by Blake's door reached a crescendo, and both boys darted to the couch in a futile attempt to look like they weren't eavesdropping on the fight. Keeping his eyes trained on a television neither roommate had switched on (fuck), Soul heard Blake's door fly open and firm footsteps hurrying towards him. Tsubaki was a blur as she rushed between the couch and the television, but even though she was storming away, she opened and closed the dorm door with care.
Blake stood by the threshold of his bedroom, his eyes trained on the front door long after it had closed and Tsubaki had gone. He seemed unsure of what to do, what to say, so he just ruffled his blue hair and cleared his throat with a guttural cough.
"So," Blake said. "Halloween is this Saturday. Do you guys know what costumes you're gonna wear?"
Kid swiveled away from the dark television screen to look at him. "I have some ideas," he said vaguely.
"I'm just gonna be a shark again," Soul said. It was his last minute costume of choice because it wasn't a costume at all. He usually put on a light hoodie, tape a fin on somewhere and showed up at parties as is. Red eyes were freaky during the daytime, but on Halloween night they were convenient. "What about you?"
Blake shrugged. "Still looking at my options. I'll just, uh, see you guys later. Got crunches to do." They watched him retreat back into his room, but instead of hearing the sharp beats of Blake's exercise playlist through the wall, the sad crooning of Phil Collins filled up the dorm instead.
Maka (9:01 p.m.): Meet me at the corner of Memento Mori Ave and 42 St
Soul (9:01 p.m.): gotcha
Soul (9:02 p.m.): ive got u know who with me
Soul (9:03 p.m.): u know who i mean right?
Soul (9:05 p.m.): its kid
Maka (9:05 p.m.): I KNOW
Wearing a white jacket with a cardboard dorsal fin duct taped to the hood, Soul was about as prepared for the Star Frat Halloween bash as anybody. He just didn't like standing next to Kid, who had spent hours constructing a costume designed to both impress onlookers and hide his identity.
Kid had chosen to dress as the grim reaper for Halloween, but it wasn't any kind of grim reaper Soul had ever seen before. He wore a long ragged dark cloak over a dress shirt, slacks, and waist coat. The entire ensemble was the same matching shade of black, which Kid has described earlier as 'almost vantablack,' the darkest shade of black in existence. The real kicker was the cartoony skull mask covering his face, which looked a bit silly for the personification of death. Well, to each their own.
The infamous 42nd St. was the home of every fraternity on campus. DCU freshmen often visited the street, starting at the corner of Memento Mori, and hit every frat house down the line. Frat row ended after three blocks at Sepulcher Dr. It was here, at the end of the line where all the drunkest partiers would ultimately congregate, that Star Frat was located.
When they arrived at the corner, Soul saw that Maka had not come alone. No, she was flanked by Liz and Patty Thompson.
Soul literally could feel beads of sweat trickling into his armpit hair. They could avoid each other in Spanish class, but there was nowhere for Soul and Patty to hide from each other now. The fact that Liz was there, smirking at him like she knew a huge secret, did little to calm his nerves. Why did he agree to attend this party? Why did he feel the need to drag Maka into it when it was, in retrospect, incredibly likely that she would bring her friends to tag along?
"Oh, hello Patty," Kid said with a nod. Though he was in the presence of all of their friends, he didn't take the mask off. "Liz. I like your shepherdess outfit."
"Sexy Lil' Bo Peep," Liz corrected. She wore a pink, frilly dress lined with lace and deeply lowcut, and on her head she wore a bonnet bedecked with sparkly ribbons. She also carried a staff the size of a candy cane. "Or Mary I guess, from the nursery rhyme? Patty's my widdle lamb."
Dressed in a white leotard with small cotton balls hot glued onto the fabric and a large ball of fluff attached to the small of her back, Patty was the portrait of innocence. She had painted her nose and cheeks with soft, white makeup and outlined her nose to create the illusion of a snout.
Patty must have lent her face-painting skills to Maka, who was dressed as a tiger. Her striped jumpsuit and cat ears were really well done, even if she looked a little cold in the October evening.
"Wait," Maka said, sounding suspicious. "You and Kid know each other already?"
Liz shrugged. "I get around."
She didn't elaborate on what 'getting around' really meant, leaving Maka no choice but to scrunch up her face and swallow her jealousy. In her tigress face paint, this act looked super adorable.
"You're taking your nickname literally now?" Soul noted.
Maka's grin was deliciously feral. It was so good to see her so energized and ready to brawl after being sick for a whole week. "I'm reclaiming it, just like you are. I didn't think you knew about the sharkface nickname."
"Uh, I didn't."
"Welp, No time to explain now! We've got a party to go to."
They started their trek down 42nd, passing by other groups of costumed students along the way. Patty, walking in a wide arc so as to avoid coming within a few feet of Soul, hooked arms with both Maka and Kid and pulled them to the head of the pack. The magnetic barrier between them held strong, even when they were hanging out in the same group.
Feeling a bit deflated, Soul fell in step with Liz behind them. She withdrew a bottle of clear liquid from her purse and took a long gulp. Noticing Soul watching her, she offered it to him. She seemed unconcerned about germs or backwash, so he obliged and took a slow sip. The last thing he wanted was to chug some rancid vodka, or diesel, or-
Water. Just water.
His face must have betrayed his shock because Liz threw her head back and laughed. "Gotcha," she said, taking the bottle from his hands. "I'm not drinking tonight. Think of me as your party guide. And Soul?" Her voice grew more serious. "Patty doesn't like to share or apologize, but for you she's trying to do both. Maybe if you stop looking like a kicked puppy, she'll actually succeed."
Soul meditated on how to look neither like a kicked puppy or a great white shark until they arrived at 42nd and Sepulcher. They stood across the street from the frat house, and Liz balanced her ribbony shepard wand on her shoulder.
"As Sexy Lil' Bo Beep, I say the flock should stick together," she said. "We're walking into a literal lion's den here, and no one is getting Xanaxed on my watch."
"As Business Casual Grim Reaper, I agree," Kid said. "We can't very well pair off, there being five of us."
"I'll stick with Maka," Soul said without thought.
"I thought Maka and I would be party buds," Patty replied. This was first time Patty had spoken to him in weeks.
Maka made the final decision with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, yeah, just stick with whoever is closest. Come on, let's stop looking at the party and go inside." She quietly grabbed hold of Soul's hand, and a spark of static jolted from her fingertips to his. Their hands jerked apart for a moment before threading together tightly.
The Greek letters signifying Sigma Tau Rho were welded to a scrappy star, which in turn was perched directly above the front door, declaring the rundown home as the headquarters of Star Frat, the most revered fraternity on campus. A graveyard of crushed red solo cups dotted the grass, and clusters of students dressed as flappers and cats-the remnants of the already busted Great Catsby party down the street-sat on the front steps and milled in and out of the side gate. Party access was restricted to a direct path through a wooden gate and winding around the house and towards the backyard. Portly uniformed police officers were stationed by the gate, and they shone their flashlights on each student's ID for a millisecond before granting them entry.
"Those are rent-a-cops," Patty whispered. "I bet they're just there to keep the neighbors from calling the real cops."
With the exception of Liz, who was already 21, none of their group possessed an ID that said they were legally allowed to drink. Nonetheless, they passed through Star Frat's faux security with ease. Upon clearing the gate, the five maneuvered around a clearly wasted freshman dressed in a karate uniform knockoff cinched with striped tie zigzagging down the alleyway. When he slurred a hello to the girls and reached towards Maka's striped jumpsuit, Soul shot him savage glare that silently yelled 'back off' to the rooftops, causing the dude to choke a little on his own spit and creep away.
That one drunk dude in a karate outfit was just a harbinger of what was to come.
'Shit show' was putting it mildly. The expansive backyard was full to the brim with grinding, sweaty bodies decked out in a variety of cheap fabrics and wigs. There were plenty of random costumes-corseted angels and devils, heavily made up vampires, skimpily dressed first responders-but the bulk of party attendees had taken the Star Frat party theme to heart.
Snapbacks. Top knots secured with chopsticks. String of plastic golden beads worn as 'bling.' Dozens of students had turned themselves into racist caricatures, but amid the throbbing music and endless alcohol, no one seemed to care. The worst offenders of all were the Star Frat members themselves, who had dressed as rappers and ninjas complete with dark facepaint and stick-on Fu Manchu mustaches.
The spectacle before them left Liz and Patty looking awkward and confused. Most disturbing, Maka's face had gone completely white with quiet indignation. He waited for her to make a snarky quip or a dry joke, but she just took it all in with quaking fists and a quivering lip.
"This is why as a rule I never dress as a party theme," Liz said in an attempt to shake the group out of its collective shock. "A hundred people are here, but we stand out because we're unique. Hey Kid, you don't see any other gunslinging grim reapers out there, do you?"
Kid's mask hid his facial expression, but the stiffness of his body and dragging footsteps made it plain that he was a swirling mass of regret.
When he didn't answer, Liz forced herself to laugh. "That's right Kid, you don't. Because you're a creative guy. C'mon, time to get some booze."
It was common knowledge that Star Frat jungle juice-aka Star Vat-was disgusting, so Team Bo Peep crept into the crowd towards the kegs. A blonde wearing a cross between a nightie and a kimono was doling out red solo cups of Natty Light, all the while flashing a tightlipped smile at party-goers beneath a layer of white makeup and red lipstick. When she handed Soul a cup, he strained to yell 'Thanks' over the music and took a sip. It tasted like sour, carbonated water. It was clear to him now that alcohol would not make time go faster or suddenly make Soul more glad to be there. This party was going to drag, and if this water-downed crap was any indication, they would all be painfully sober the entire time.
While Liz continued to drink out of her water bottle, Patty downed her beer without hesitation and threw the cup back on the ground.
"Let's get nasty!" Patty tugged on Maka's free hand and headed into the crowd. Soul caught Maka glancing backwards at him before releasing his hand, but it was so fleeting that he didn't know what it meant. Was it an invitation to come with? An apology for ditching him? An affirmation that she'll be back?
"What are you waiting for?" Liz asked, stowing her water bottle in her cross-body purse. "You coming?"
"I'm going to find Blake," Soul decided. "He was the one who invited us here after all." He would meet back up with the girls later.
"Good thinking." This was the first time Kid has spoken since they arrived at the party. Though his voice was muffled by the mask, it was clear that it was staying put on his face no matter what.
And so Team Bo Peep separated, the girls walking into the heart of the dance floor in the backyard and the boys tepidly journeying into the bowels of Star Frat.
The interior of the house was devoid of furniture or wall decor, save for a framed fraternity portrait and a couch pushed snug against the wall. The passageway to the kitchen was blocked off by a rolling bar, which kept revelers at bay as Star Frat members mixed drinks in the kitchen and handed them out. The music wasn't quite so loud in here, and party-goers seemed to drift in and out as they got more drinks and used the bathroom. The line for the bathroom curled around a corner, and Soul heard a faint eugh from behind Kid's mask.
The sound of ping pong balls bouncing drew them to a large room that held four large collapsable tables covered in red solo cups. Multiple beer pong games were happening at once, hence the constant flying of errant ping pong balls and the cheering. One ball knocked over a spectator's drink, and its spilled contents splashed onto Soul and Kid's feet.
"Eughhhh."
"Hang in there, Kid."
They heard Blake whooping on the other side of the room, and sure enough there he was at one end of a ping pong table, absolutely creaming the competition. Best of all, Tsubaki was playing alongside him, beaming as their obvious skill delivered them sweet victory.
Not only had Blake convinced Tsubaki to attend the party after all, but it looked like Tsubaki's good sense had rescued both of them from a racist costume disaster. She wore a dark blue toga made of a bedsheet safety-pinned to her body and secured with a rope sash. Meanwhile, Blake wore nothing but a pair of tight black yoga pants that hugged his hips and thighs and flared at the calf. Together they were Togas and Yoga, a party theme all on their own.
Soul saddled up to his roommate just as Tsubaki was aiming her next shot. "Nice pants," he said.
"Namaste away from me, plebe," Blake responded without looking at him. "Tsubaki is about to take her turn."
Tsubaki bit her lip and narrowed her eyes before throwing the ping pong ball with laser precision. It landed in the final cup with a soft plink!
Blake turned to his girlfriend, ecstatic. "Hell yeah, Team Gods Among Mortals wins again! Low five! High five! HIGHER five!" On the last high five, Tsubaki rose on her tiptoes so she could raise her hand as high as possible. Blake leapt into the air so he could smack her palm, and then whooped again.
"You two should play us!" Tsubaki said to Kid and Soul. "I've spent all night playing against strangers. It would be so fun to finally play with friends!"
Tsubaki was by no means lacking in friends. The fact that she had been actively waiting for Soul and Kid to arrive at the party could only mean that no one else Tsu knew had even come. He felt sorry that she not only had to endure this clusterfuck of a party, but that she also had to do it with only Blake as a support. Hell, if they had their way, neither Soul nor Kid would have attended the party at all. Then Tsu would have been truly alone.
Blake began to rearrange red solo cups and fill them with beer. "Great idea. I'll get everything set up-"
"Ahem."
A tall Star Frat brother in a fat suit left his own beer pong table to speak to Blake. He was probably supposed to be a sumo wrestler given the towel-like diaper fashioned around his waist, but the rice farmer hat on his head sent mixed signals.
"Yo, Black Star," the sumo wrestler said. "Where's your costume? I thought you were gonna be Tupac or Kanye."
Blake forced a boisterous laugh. "Psssh, why dress as Tupac when I can be six pack? Seriously, have you looked at this, Green Star?" He gestured to his abs to prove his point.
Underneath the straw hat, Green Star narrowed his eyes and gave Blake a curt nod. "Anyways, White Star is ready for your friends," Green Star said. "So, who wants to go first?" Strong hands shoved Soul directly into Green Star's fluffy chest, which smelled of stale axe bodyspray. "Take it easy, buddy," he said with a laugh. "Just follow me, I'll take you to him real quick."
Bewildered, Soul looked back to shoot a mean look at whoever was behind him, but found that it was Kid, not Blake, who was looming behind him, the unrepentant traitor. Thanks a lot for nothing, Kid.
Now completely abandoned by his whole group, Soul mumbled an apology and followed Green Star. The music, already blaring so loud that he could feel each beat vibrate his very bones, grew more deafening. Soul strained to hear his own voice when he asked Green Star where they were going, but somehow the frat brother's response came through loud and clear-White Star. He was going to meet the head honcho, the guy behind Star Frat's greatness.
The stairs were cordoned off by a couple collapsible chairs. Green Star and Soul stepped over them and climbed the stairway
Soul had only ever heard of White Star, but offhanded comments from Blake and his bros did not do the real guy justice. White Star was tall and tan, with a regal grecian nose and dirty blonde hair styled in a classic taper haircut. He was wearing a black store-bought samurai robe cinched at the waist that looked both regal and tacky.
White Star extended a hand. "You must be Soul."
Soul took it. "Yep, Soul Evans."
"Eric Whittaker," White Star said as they shook hands, flapping the sleeves of his large robe.
"Whitacre?" Soul asked. "Like the composer?"
"Damn, I wish! Let's move this party out of the hall," he added opening a bedroom door and stepping inside.
The transition from thundering music to silence was disorienting, and the pounding of his eardrums faltered in their rhythm. White Star's room was pretty typical for a college kid; his desk housed a macbook and several half-finished bottles of liquor, a beanbag chair sat like a lump by the bed, and the walls were covered in random posters and photographs. There was a large window that overlooked the backyard with a thick window pane-a clear sign that the room was sound-proofed.
And then he spotted the 1993 Gibson Les Paul hanging on the wall. It was a traditional electric guitar, with the signature Les Paul shape that Soul coveted during indulgent visits to Guitar Center. It was the color of a young sunset, with a deep red prickling at the edges that transitioned into warm orange and then golden rod. It was a work of art, and he didn't even know what its timbre sounded like.
Seeing Soul's awe, White Star walked over to the instrument and plucked it off the wall. For a guitar that was probably solid wood, it appeared weightless in White Star's hands.
"Black Star told me you were into music," he said, absentmindedly plucking at the guitar strings. Electric guitars didn't make a lot of sound without an amplifier, yet even without being plugged in Soul's trained ear could hear its clear notes. "I'm no Eric Whitacre, but I fancy myself a musician too," White Star said. "Me and some of the other brothers jam from time to time. Only on the best equipment of course. You want to try her out?"
Soul took the guitar out of White Star's hands as if it were a child; he would never slander this beauty by referring to it as simple 'equipment.' He strummed the G chord to get a feel of the instrument and sighed. "Now that's beautiful," Soul said. Those tones. With deep reluctance, Soul handed the instrument back over to White Star, who replaced it on the wall. Playing something so beautiful, even for a second, left Soul feeling a little giddy. Maybe all the stuff Blake had told him about the great and benevolent White Star were true.
"Is that why this room is sound proofed?" Soul asked. "So you can practice in peace?"
This made White Star laugh. "Well that's one reason," he admitted with a laugh. "Let's just say that when you're the president of a frat, you don't get as much privacy as you like. Up here though, I can literally avoid the world and all of its bullshit."
Soul nodded along. "I would kill for a sanctuary like that."
"Well, that's what we're hear to talk about," White Star pulled a rolling chair from under his desk and sat down. He gestured for Soul to sit in the bean bag chair. "Is Sigma Tau Rho the sanctuary you're looking for?"
Sitting in a beanbag chair didn't really instill Soul with confidence. In fact, it made him feel weak, like he was at a disadvantage while White Star had the high ground. He needed to tell White Star straight that he wasn't interested in actually joining the fraternity, but he also didn't want to word it badly in case Blake got in trouble for it somehow. While he had thought of a few ways to steer the conversation away from joining Star Frat, a beanbag chair wasn't where he envisioned using them.
Plus he sort of liked White Star. Soul managed to make a successful first impression on Liz-why not repeat that with White Star? Just because he wasn't going to join the fraternity didn't mean they couldn't be friends.
"Well," Soul began. "Blake-er, Black Star-he talks about you guys a lot. He is always saying how great you all are."
White Star nodded with approval. "I wouldn't expect anything less from my little brother-that means, like, protege in the brotherhood."
"Blake really fits in Star Frat," Soul continued. "And while I was down to check things out, I'm not sure if I-"
"I understand feeling uncertain," White Star said, cutting him off. "But you have to take into account how frat life changes you-for the better. Take Black Star, for example. Before he joined us, he had like two friends, mediocre grades, and he could only bench press like 100 pounds. He was the guy none of the other frats wanted, but I saw potential in him. Now he has a full social life, he tries harder in school, and just last week he benched 300. A huge improvement. Next thing you know, he's gonna have the girl of his dreams on his arm."
As one of the two friends Blake had made before joining the fraternity, this monologue made Soul feel...odd. Like he was a pimple in a 'Before' photograph that got photoshopped out for the 'After' image. The bench pressing numbers also seemed made up, since Blake had been focused on fitness long before joining Star Frat. But it was White Star's last statement that compelled Soul to speak up.
"Didn't he meet Tsubaki after he joined the fraternity?" Soul asked. "It seems to me like he already got the girl of his dreams."
White Star's expression darkened. "I'm not so sure about that."
He rose from his chair and walked over to the window. "Don't get me wrong, she's pretty and sweet, I love Tsu to death, she's like a sister's friend to me, but I don't know," White Star said. "I'm really protective of my bros, and when I see them with someone who doesn't respect them, I try to guide them in a better direction. You're Blake's friend too, so I'm sure you understand my concern here."
Soul didn't even know what to say. His reading of Blake and Tsubaki's relationship didn't wave any red flags; if anything, it was the type of relationship he wanted to have one day, to date a best friend, to fall for a person he could sort of resonate with on a deeper level. To date, the only thing that really put strain on Tsu and Blake's relationship was, well-
"Take this party for instance," White Star said. "When I pick an event theme, the last thing I need is some uppity asian girl pulling the race card on me and conflicting one of my brother's loyalties. I have an organization to run after all, and at the end of the day we're just here to have fun. A little party never hurt anybody."
Soul's mind wandered to Tsubaki's sharp comments during her fight with Blake-"They're making a mockery of us!"
He thought of Tsubaki's loneliness as she played unending rounds of beer pong, and Blake blatantly disregarding the party theme to support her.
He thought of Maka's paling face when she first arrived. That a girl known for speaking her mind could be rendered so speechless in her anger spoke volumes, and he hated seeing her so painfully silenced.
A little party could hurt somebody.
Though he stared at White Star with glazed eyes, Soul internally witnessed an enormous gulf open between them. In the depths of that chasm lay the ruins of any residual desire he had to be associated with Star Frat, let alone a friend of White Star.
Soul's phone buzzed in his pocket and he peeked at the screen.
Kid (10:12 p.m.): This is your escape text.
"Sorry man, but that was Kid," Soul said. "He's vomiting on the sidewalk. Too much Star Vat, you know? I don't think he has the liver to join a fraternity." This was a bold-faced lie. Kid held his alcohol better than anyone Soul knew.
"Of course," White Star said. He clapped Soul on the shoulder. "We'll be in touch."
No we fucking won't.
Soul didn't really hide his eagerness to get the hell out of White Star's room and downstairs. Kid was waiting for him at the bottom, disguising himself as a party-goer who was extremely interested in his phone. He didn't waste any time meeting his roommate.
"So I was just thinking that I hate everything about this party and I want to go home," Soul said.
Kid shifted his skull mask to his forehead. His bangs were plastered to his skin by the stifling humidity inside the house. "I've been thinking that since we arrived," he responded. "This is a hell house. Everyone is drinking this orangish swill, the floor is covered in sludge, and at least three strange women have tried to put their hands in my back pocket!"
"Let's find the others. Even if they want to stick around, we can at least tell them we're done."
"Agreed. You find the girls. I'll speak to Blake and Tsubaki."
Soul had left the frat house and journeyed into the crowded backyard when he realized that he didn't know where the girls were. The crowd had waned since they arrived, but there were still far too many people per square foot for Soul to see clearly or feel comfortable. The constant movement of people dancing to erratic EDM beats did not make searching the crowd a simple mission. He pushed through the crowd, careful to avoid stepping on toes or elbowing anyone in the face, when he felt a tap on his upper back.
Soul twisted to look over shoulder and jumped out of his skin when he saw Patty standing there. Being packed between so many bodies had taken a toll on her facepaint, which had begun to chip and smear. The way those large ocean eyes bored into his made his stomach flip flop with dread.
"Soul. Are you mad at me?" Patty asked with a cock of her head. "Because I thought you and Maka were dating?"
It was a blessing that the lights were so dim, the music so loud, and the air so musty with sweat and alcohol, because Soul was blushing, stammering, and sweating all the at the same time. "I'm not mad," he answered immediately. "I was surprised, but not mad."
The magnetic barrier between them held strong, even in the middle of a throbbing crowd. "But it's been so weird," Patty said with frankness. "You don't just avoid people because you're surprised."
"I was giving you space because you were avoiding me."
Patty frowned and look down at her feet. "Only because I thought you were mad."
"Shit, we're going in circles," Soul said. "What is it, Patty?"
"You're a really good friend to Maka," she blurted. "I thought I ruined it. I thought I hurt her by trying to help her, like I usually do."
"Maka and I are still friends! What happened was weird, but a misunderstanding isn't going to change that." He swallowed. "If you want, we can be friends too."
The offer was out there, so Soul waited. Patty was always a tough person to read because unlike him, her poker face wasn't a blank slate. Part of him was afraid that here, in the middle of a Star Frat party surrounded by strangers, she would just reject him outright and shut down any hope that they could be friends or otherwise. But dancing around each other and never knowing where they stood was worse, and if acquaintances was all they would ever be, Soul needed to know that sooner rather than later.
The tense moment ended when Patty shot him a big smile. "Friends it is!"
She gave him a brief hug before springing backwards. The magnetic force field wasn't gone, but it wasn't insurmountable anymore.
"So!" Patty said. "Let's go find Maka and tell her we're all made up now! Where is she?"
Soul blinked. "I dunno. I thought she was with you."
Patty blinked back at him. "She left me on the dance floor ages ago. She said she was going to find you."
This was news to Soul, who would have rather hung out with Maka than indulge White Star. "Well if she's not with you, and she never found me, where is she?"
They both fell silent as the mystery of Maka's whereabouts settled between them like a fizzling spark drifting to the ground. And when that spark finished its descent, it hit them that they had lost Maka at a frat party-a Star Frat party-after they had both sort of promised to be her party buddy. And if Soul's troubling conversation with White Star was any indication, this was a dangerous thing indeed.
The two immediately dashed towards the house, only to be constantly stalled by the drunken crowd. Patty shamelessly shoved people out of her way, ripping apart dancing couples and knocking over drinks. Someone touched Soul on the shoulder and told him to 'watch it,' but they quieted real quick when he snarled over his shoulder and followed Patty's path of destruction.
Once inside, Soul searched for a familiar face, anyone he could trust to help find Maka. Blake was resetting another beer pong game, and he waved when he saw them approach.
"Hey! How did the one-on-one with White go?" Blake said.
Soul ignored his question. "We're looking for Maka. Any idea where she went?"
"Oh right! I told her to head upstairs with-"
Patty didn't wait to hear him finish. She turned on her heel and hurried to the stairs, with Soul trailing behind her.
Once upstairs, they were faced with a row of closed doors. A trickle of familiar laughter filtered through a door at the end of the hall-not White Star's room, to Soul's relief. Patty essentially kicked down the door, causing three figures inside to start and gasp with surprise. Tsubaki, Liz, and Maka were all sitting crosslegged on the floor, passing around Liz's water bottle.
He and Patty stared at the group, panting from exertion and fright. "There you fucking are," Patty breathed with menace. "You…" Patty's expression flipped from anger to playfulness. "Elusive minx!" She dropped to her knees to give Maka a tight hug on the floor.
Soul was too livid to consider sitting down. "Maka, you said were going to stick with one of us," he said, furious. "We almost shat ourselves when we realized-"
"Hey, calm down Mom and Dad," Liz said. "Your baby is safe with Auntie Elizabeth. No need to get your panties all twisted. Sexy Lil' Bo Peep protects her flock."
Entangled in Patty's arms, Maka groaned. "I know I'm small, but I'm a fighter. I can take care of myself."
"Awww, you're too cute to take care of yourself," Patty said. She twirled one of Maka's pigtails around her finger and started a loose braid.
Having located Maka, Soul allowed himself to exhaled and bring his thundering anxiety back to a low hum. They must have retreated upstairs in order to get some privacy and quiet, probably with Blake's blessing since he was a frat brother. He felt a surge of affection for Blake, who despite being tangled up in Star Frat, really did do all he could to support his friends.
The door cracked open, and a skull mask peeked inside. "Hello?" Kid asked. "Is this where we're all hiding? I thought we were on our way home."
"Yeah, let's blow this popsicle stand," Patty agreed.
Soul was struck by an idea. It wasn't one that made him entirely happy, but at least he could make it up to Maka for dragging her all the way to a Star Frat party. "Kid, can you take Maka home?" he asked. "She lives off campus in the opposite direction of everyone else, and I'm gonna stick around and, uh, chill with Tsubaki and Blake."
Some alone time with Kid ought to cheer her up, plus he trusted that she would be in safe hands with him. At the very least they would be able to talk about books or gender studies or something while walking to her place. Maybe it would be enough to show Maka that Kid wasn't the one. Or maybe it would go exceedingly well, and he'd become their third wheel by November 1st. It wasn't really up to him.
But Maka was ill-prepared for this suggestion, and she gave him an urgent look that was a mixture of 'Let's do it' and 'Abort mission.' Heat was literally radiating off her red cheeks when she answered, "I can walk home alone just fine on my own."
"No, no," Kid pressed. "I know you're capable, but it is late. Plus we all agree to stay together. Liz and Patty will go back to campus, Soul will go back with Blake and Tsu, and I'll walk you home. If I call a cab to your address now, it'll be ready to collect me by the time we get there."
More than eager to go, Kid whipped out his phone and started making a call. Maka took a deep breath and got to her feet, steeling herself for the journey. As she left with the others, she mouthed a quiet 'thank you' before exiting the room.
Soul reminded himself that whatever happened next was up to Maka and, to some extent, fate. He could actively mend things with Patty and avoid the raging shitstorm that was Star Frat, but when it came to Maka, he could only provide a small push and see which direction the waves took her.