Sanctum by Madeleine Roux Page A

it up in a sort of starburst. She’d looked amazing, and Dan had wished he was seeing her all dressed up under circumstances where they could actually enjoy themselves. Instead, they would be spending the night skulking around in the dark. But then, he might not even be doing that much with her if the first time they ever met had been under better circumstances.
    Jordan had worn a fresh pair of black skinny jeans and a baggy dark shirt with a Transformer bleached onto the front.
    “I thought we were just going to sneak off,” Dan had whispered to him as they neared the party. “Why did you guys dress up?”
    “It’s a trick, Dan,” Jordan had said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know? A disguise? If we showed up looking scrubby, they’d probably get suspicious.”
    “Scrubby?” Dan had looked down, scrutinizing his sweater and khakis. “Is that what I look like?”
    “No, you look just fine. You’ve always been able to pull off that effortless you thing.”
    “What me thing?”
    “Just take the compliment, Dan,” Jordan had said with a breathless little chuckle. They could see the laugh actually hang in the air as puffy white mist. “You’re doing you and it’s working just fine.”
    Now, inside the off-campus house, with people everywhere, lights flashing, and music blasting, Dan understood why Lara had worn practically nothing under her coat: it was sweltering here.
    He tugged on his strangling collar and kept searching for Abby. Where had she gone? Didn’t she know they were supposed to sneak off? Maybe some smooth older guy had grabbed her for a dance.
    Perish the thought.
    “Lost?” Micah shouted, wading over to him through the sea of thrashing bodies. “Here! I brought you something, but it’s our little secret.”
    A red plastic cup emerged, smelling distinctly like rubbing alcohol and smoke. Dan stuck his nose down into it and felt his throat close up. “What is it?” he yelled.
    “Bourbon and Coke! Didn’t know what you wanted, figured this was all-purpose.”
    “Thanks,” Dan said, sipping carefully, then forcing the liquid down over his protesting taste buds. The tailpipe of a beat-up old truck probably tasted better. He scanned the party, trying to think of something to say. “I don’t see many other prospies here.”
    None, in fact.
    “We’re a selective bunch,” Micah said, slurping down his own drink like it was water. With the red cup between thumb and forefinger, he pointed toward the milling dance crowd. “Looks like your buds are having a good time.”
    He wasn’t kidding. Abby and Lara twirled around each other, laughing hysterically at what, Dan could only guess. Jordan, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to yell at Cal and dance with him simultaneously. Cal’s hand landed on Jordan’s hip, and Dan didn’t know whether to drink more or rush into the crowd and yank his friend away protectively.
    “Don’t sweat it,” Micah said, as if reading his mind. “Like I said, Cal isn’t always a bad guy.”
    “He didn’t make the best first impression,” Dan muttered, but Micah managed to hear him and shrugged.
    “Honestly, he’s had a rough couple years. Lost his dad. It was a big blow. They were close. That kind of thing can knock you loose for a while, you know? I’m just hoping he’ll land on his feet again. I miss having him as a friend,” he said.
    Dan’s throat still burned from the single sip of alcohol. “I didn’t know his dad died. . . . That sucks.”
    “Yeah, back when we were roomies.” Micah shook his head, watching Jordan and Cal drift away from the dancers to chat near the stairwell in the corner. “He was a big-shot alum. They buried him in the campus cemetery.”
    Before Dan could respond, a fumbling, drunken boy in a football jersey slammed right into Abby and Lara, both of whom turned on him, pushing back. The three shouted back and forth before the girls managed to spin him around and toss him outside the circle