ONE
ECHO
The Tau Zeta Etahouse is alive with sorority girls getting ready for the annual welcome bonfire. My stomach gurgles uncomfortably as I lie on my bed, alternately reading and watching the action passing by my doorway.
Drawing in an unsteady breath, I worry the skin at the corner of my lip. It’s not that it doesn’t sound like fun—and I’m definitely not going to be the obnoxious girl who refuses to participate—it’s simply that the last bonfire I attended ended in the complete and total destruction of my life as I knew it. The girl who loved parties and dancing and hanging out with friends disappeared that night and never came back.
I promised myself this year would be different—I’d come to Kingston University, accept the legacy bid to my mother’s sorority, like my older sister, Kara, had encouraged me to do, and at least try to find the fun-loving girl I’d left behind. It’s hard, though, especially when all I want to do is vomit at the prospect of hanging around a manufactured blaze, picking at a wound I swore I’d never open again.
For all intents and purposes, I’m ready. Shorts. Cute black babydoll tank top with spaghetti straps and lace accents. I glance down at myself, inspecting my outfit thoroughly. The sheer material floats around my midriff in a way that might allow for some air flow so I don’t overheat while outside. Ever since I arrived, it’s been so hot and sticky. Then again, itisGeorgia. Definitely not in Connecticut anymore. With a sigh, I continue ticking through my pre-bonfire prep in my head. Makeup done—smoky eye shadow, mascara, and a little lip gloss. I kick my feet. Strappy sandals. Check. I’m ready for whatever the night brings. Physically, anyway.
Looking up from my book when the noise of pounding feet distracts me, I shake my head with an amused smile. A half-dressed girl in a fuchsia bra with panties to match races down the hall, tits bouncing, as she shouts to anyone who will listen that she is in dire need of a white tank top. Her shrill voice cuts through the music playing in my earbuds. I still don’t know who half these girls are. There are like twenty of us living here this year.
I’m unsure if sorority life is going to be the right choice for me, but it’s far too early to pick up and move out. And Idowant to be here. I think this would have made my mother happy… and not much I’ve done in the last few years has succeeded in doing that.
“Echo! What are you doing? Are you ready?”
My eyes flick up to find Freya, my appointed big sister, staring at me in bewilderment. “Oh. Um.” Feeling like a huge loser, I let out a ragged exhale, suddenly unsure if I can do this after all. “I’m actually not feeling so well.” It’s not entirely a lie. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’m fine, my stomach continues to flip and twist at the thought of going out tonight.
“Girl, it’s a rite of passage to attend. It’s a big deal!Everyonewill be there. Every single frat up and down Greek Row will be represented.”
I clench my teeth together. “How long has this tradition been going on?”
“Only since KU opened. Yes, your mother would have participated.” Freya’s well aware of my legacy status. It’s why I was offered the last room in the house even though I’m a freshman and have only just accepted the offer they’d extended me to join. I didn’t even have to wait to do the whole rush week thing, simply because of who my mother is.Was.
Shit.Guilt seeps into my chest, and my heart squeezes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll go.”
* * *
Within thirty minutesof arriving at the bonfire, I’ve lost Freya in the crowd. It sucks because I’m stuck listening to inane conversations swirling around me, and I can’t help but feel like I stick out like a sore thumb—the girl who is two seconds away from hitting the panic button and having a breakdown of epic proportions.
Unease continues to flow through me, an indescribable sense of foreboding that’s been with me ever since we got here. I’d thought it was my past experience with bonfires that’s making me feel on edge, but…
Staring past the flames, my body jerks, and before it mentally clicks in my head why, every cell in my body screams at me to run.I’m not one to argue with gut instinct, so I take off like a shot from the flickering glow and head for the protection of the trees, my heart frantically slamming inside my chest.
That can’t have been who I thought it was.
But the fury on his face has fear gripping me in its sharp claws as I cut through the dark foliage. With every stride, the leaves and twigs beneath my feet crackle and snap, but the noise I’m making as I crash through the undergrowth has nothing on the rhythmic pounding through my eardrums. My breath quickens, labored and ragged, as I search for a place to hide from the heavy footfalls sounding steady and sure behind me. I’m so overwhelmed that a sob scrapes up from my throat, trying to escape.
I’ve heard it’s impossible to outrun the past, but I’m sure as fuck gonna try.
There’s no rhyme or reason to the path I’m taking, all I’m capable of is fleeing as fast as my sandaled feet will carry me. No matter that tree branches poke and slap at my face and arms. No matter that my shoes aren’t made for running. No matter that I’m getting more and more lost with every second that passes.
I clutch at my chest and blink into the dark, coming to a complete standstill. Tears streak down my cheeks, and nervous sweat trickles uncomfortably down my back. Turning one way, then the other, I listen hard but can’t hear anything over the frantic beating of my heart. This can’t be happening. I tuck my hair behind my ears as I chew on my lip and wait.
Twigs snap. Something rustles off to my left. In response, a violent tremor rushes through me from head to toe.No, no, no.I haven’t seen him in several years, but I’ve never forgotten him. Too much transpired between us for that.
But I thought I saw him. Whoever it was had been wearing jeans with holes ripped at the thighs and a lightweight dark-colored hoodie, which hid half his face. Six two. Athletic build. Quite a bit more muscular than I remember.Shit.What the hell am I doing? That description fits any number of the other freaking frat boys in attendance at the welcome bonfire.
He’s inprison.There’s no fucking wayhe’sat Kingston University. Panic claws its way up my throat.You’re letting your imagination run away with you again. There’s no one in the woods with you, just like there hasn’t been someone watching you sleep in your new fucking room at the sorority house.
I jerk myself from those thoughts, choosing instead to listen for anything—anyone—that shouldn’t be out here with me. Wetting my dry, trembling lips with a tentative swipe of my tongue, I hold very still. For several long seconds, leaves rustle in the slight breeze and crickets chirp. Standard night sounds. Nothing weird. Had I mistaken the thrumming of my own heart for the pounding footsteps of someone chasing me? I lift both hands to my head, pressing the heels to either side and rubbing in circles.
Just when I think all is well and I’m chiding myself for being overdramatic, there’s a distinct crunch of dry leaves on my left. Ice-cold fear snakes down my spine. A few moments later, from my right, there’s a whisper. My head snaps from one side to other, my eyes widening in the dark as my breath comes faster and faster. I knew I wasn’t crazy.Please, no.
Without wasting another second, I push myself into motion again, hoping to escape whatever is in these woods with me. I’m so wigged out I tear through the dark at a perfectly ridiculous speed. I don’t even put up my hands to shield my face from the branches in my way. The pain they cause only serves to heighten my awareness, because this time, I’m certain. Someone is chasing me.
I dart behind a particularly large tree and back myself up to it. My fingers dig into the bark on either side of my thighs, like somehow holding on tight is going to stop what’s happening. The hammering sensation in my chest is unbearable as I scan the deep darkness of the forest. My mind spirals, tormented by a familiar feeling in my gut.
