The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines #3)(48)

My eyes were on the road, but I could tell he was smiling. "If your priorities were really messed up, you would've followed that tow truck. Yet here you are, off to help perfect strangers. That's a noble thing, Sage."

"Don't rule yourself out," I said. "You're pretty noble too, going on all these outings with me."

"Well, it's not the same as Skee-Ball, but it'll have to do. How was that anyway? Did you really learn anything?"

"I learned a lot - some pretty unbelievable stuff, actually. I'm still waiting to get some proof, though."

Luck was with us initially. The first two girls were home, though their reactions were similar to Wendy Stone's. This time, I'd had the foresight to bring the newspaper article, in the hopes it would make a stronger impression. That ghastly picture at least gave them pause, but I left not knowing if they'd really take me seriously or use the agate charms.

Our good fortune ran out when we reached the last name. She too was a college student, meaning we had another campus visit. Her name was Lynne Titus, and she lived in a sorority house. I admit, as I knocked on the door, I was fully prepared to find a group of girls dressed in pink, having a pillow fight in their living room. But when we were shown in, we discovered an orderly home not all that different from Wendy's building. Some girls were coming and going, while others sat around with textbooks and papers.

"Lynne?" asked the girl who'd let us inside. "You just missed her."

I knew this shouldn't be a surprise. These girls had lives. They wouldn't all be waiting around for me to come by and talk to them. I glanced uneasily at a window, taking note of the purpling sky. "Any idea when she'll be back?"

The girl shook her head. "No, sorry. I don't know where she went."

Adrian and I exchanged looks. "You're free from your curfew," he reminded me.

"I know. But that doesn't mean I want to spend all night waiting for Lynne." I did some mental calculations. "I suppose we could wait a couple of hours. Three at most."

Adrian seemed supremely delighted by this, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was more excited at hanging out on a college campus . . . or at spending time with me. "What's fun to do around here?" he asked our hostess. He glanced around at the quiet academic environment. "No raging parties here, huh?"

The girl put on a disapproving expression. "We're a very serious sorority. If you're looking for parties, I guarantee there's one going on just down the street. Those girls have one every night." Adrian shot me a hopeful look.

"Oh, come on," I said. "Can't we find some nice museum?"

"We want to stay close, in case Lynne comes back," Adrian said. Something told me if the party had been all the way across campus, he still would've pushed for it. "Besides, if you want to go to college so badly, you should see the full scope of what it has to offer. And aren't you a fan of Greek stuff?"

That was hardly what I had in mind, and he knew it. I reluctantly agreed but warned him he couldn't drink. I was sporting the brown wig and presumed he was using spirit to mask us further. Alcohol would diminish his ability to pull it all off. Plus, I just didn't want to see him drunk.

It was easy to find the party house because we could hear the music blasting from it. A guy and a girl openly drinking beer from plastic cups challenged us at the door. "This is Greek only," the girl said. She looked as though she might fall off her stool. "Who are you with?"

I pointed vaguely toward Lynne's sorority. "Um, them."

"Alpha Yam Ergo," said Adrian, without hesitation. I expected the door squad to point out that most of those weren't even Greek letters. Maybe it was because Adrian spoke so confidently - or because they'd had too much beer - but the guy waved us inside.

It was almost like being back at the arcade, an overwhelming flood of stimuli. The house was crowded and loud, with smoke hanging in the air and alcohol flowing freely. Several people offered us drinks, and some girl invited us - three times - to play beer pong, forgetting that she'd already spoken to us. I regarded it all in amazement, trying to keep the disgust off my face.

"What a waste of tuition. This is ruining all my collegiate dreams," I shouted to Adrian. "Isn't there anything to do that's not drinking or being stupid?"

He scanned around, able to see more of the room from his greater height. He brightened. "That looks promising." He caught hold of my hand. "Come on."

In a surprisingly nice and spacious kitchen, we found several girls sitting on the floor painting blank T-shirts. Judging from the sloppy job and paint spills, they too had been indulging in alcohol. One girl had a cup of beer next to an identical cup of paint, and I hoped she wouldn't mix them up.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

One of the girls glanced up and grinned. "Making shirts for the winter carnival. You want to help?"

Before I could say no, Adrian was already on the ground with them. "Do I ever." He helped himself to a white T-shirt and a brush with blue paint on it. "What are we putting on these?" The girls' shoddy work made that a valid question.

"Our names," said one girl.

"Winter stuff," said another.

That was good enough for Adrian. He set to work painting snowflakes on the shirt. Unable to help myself, I knelt down to get a better look. Whatever his faults, Adrian was a decent artist. He mixed in a few other colors, making the snowflakes intricate and stylized. At one point, he paused to light a clove cigarette, sharing one of the girls' ashtrays. It was a habit I didn't really like, but at least the rest of the smoke in this place masked his. As he was finishing up the shirt and writing out the sorority's name, I noticed that all the other girls had stopped to stare.