The Mary Shelley Club, Goldy Moldavsky [e ink ebook reader txt] 📗

but it’s such a good story,” Thayer said. He took a step toward me, his robe billowing behind him. I sensed a dramatization coming, like we were back in Ms. Liu’s class. Felicity rolled her eyes.

“Mary Shelley and her boo, Percy—he was, like, full married by the way, quite the scandal—went on vacation to a villa in Italy—”

“—Switzerland,” Felicity said.

“That’s what I said, Switzerland. Anyway, they were there to stalk Lord Byron, who was the first real celebrity of the modern era, not to mention a pansexual literary Adonis who was also—spoiler alert—screwing his half sister, in case you didn’t know. Another scandal that people like to gloss over.”

“Would you please get on with it?” Felicity said.

“Chill,” Thayer said. “F ine, I’ll just skip all the lessers who were there and get to the good part. Anyway, they were crazy mofos ready to paint the town red, but they couldn’t because: rain.”

Freddie leaned against the wall as Thayer talked, right beneath what appeared to be a neon zombie. He caught my glance and gave me a subtle nod, as if telling me that we should let Thayer have his storytelling moment and that he’d be getting to the point eventually.

“It was the worst summer ever,” Thayer went on. “Like, on record. History-making, biblical proportions bad. It rained so much that the whole crew had to stay cooped up for their entire trip and they had no internet so they were super bored, obviously. And then Lord Byron was like, ‘Here’s a thought! Let’s see who can come up with the scariest story ever.’ Lord Byron thought he was going to win ’cause he was a lord or whatever, but nope, it was the godqueen of modern horror herself, Mary Shelley.”

“She came up with the idea for Frankenstein as a result,” Freddie said.

“And that’s where we get our name,” Thayer said, spreading his arms. “The Mary Shelley Club.”

“So you guys are … Frankenstein fans?” I asked.

“Not just Frankenstein. Horror,” Felicity said.

“So what do you do in this club?” My gaze flicked over to Bram, who seemed to be more interested in the chipping paint on the Lizard Man hanging above him. Thayer and Freddie and Felicity—they seemed more like the type: misfits with eccentric interests. But Bram, the most popular guy in school, the rich lacrosse jock? Why was he here?

“Did you miss the part about how Mary Shelley came up with Frankenstein?” Felicity said. “We create scary stories.”

I snorted. “That’s an interesting way of pronouncing ‘pranks.’”

An instant uproar ensued, with Felicity, Thayer, and Freddie talking over each other to set the record straight.

“We’re not twelve-year-olds.”

“We don’t like the word ‘prank’ or even ‘pranksters’—that’s a misconception.”

“It’s not just that. There’s also rigorous movie-watching practices.”

Whatever they wanted to call it, it didn’t matter. Because now all I could think about was Bram’s involvement in the séance prank. Had he willingly put his own girlfriend through that? I thought about when I’d first seen him that night: upstairs, having what sounded like a fight with Lux. Maybe he’d been trying to warn her to leave before the séance happened. Maybe he underestimated how it would affect her. Or maybe that fight sent him over the edge and he went after her on purpose.

Then, I thought about how Lux had made my life miserable for the last two weeks and how he had done nothing to stop her. Maybe they deserved each other.

Freddie and Thayer and Felicity were speaking so quickly now that their voices muddled together and canceled each other out. But then one line stuck out, clear as a bell over the rest. “The game is a lot more nuanced than that.”

“What game?” I asked.

“Enough,” Bram said, tired of the arguing kids. “No more info until we know you’re in.”

The power that came with being the most popular boy in school seemed to extend beyond campus. I wondered if anyone had ever refused Bram anything before.

While Thayer and especially Freddie seemed happy to have me there, Felicity and Bram were ambivalent, even a little hostile. Even though they’d gone to the trouble of getting me to this weird place—wherever we were—I could tell from the look of Bram and the way he spoke that he wanted me gone. The expression on his face remained the same as it had been all night: mild disinterest.

I lifted my chin. “I’m in,” I said.

Thayer pumped his fist in the dark air. “A new member is born! As formal invitations go, I think we pretty much nailed it.”

“Yes, thanks so much for the ride. Very thoughtful. So can we get out of here yet?” I asked.

“There’s just one more thing,” Freddie said.

A devious grin formed on Felicity’s face. “Initiation,” she said.

 12

I SAT ON the concrete floor in the dark. Felicity, sitting with the others a few feet before me, shined a flashlight on me. It felt like an intimidation tactic, because the beam of light was so bright that it prevented me from looking directly at her, or at any of them.

As I waited for whatever they had in store for me, I went over the facts I knew:

The Mary Shelley Club was small.

It was exclusive.

They occasionally watched movies together.

They pulled off what they refused to call, but clearly were, pranks—scenarios of their own making in which they elaborately planned and executed pranks that seemed to be inspired by horror tropes.

And there was a game. But I wouldn’t know more about that until after the initiation.

I squinted against the glare from the flashlight. I wasn’t too excited about the shades of frat-bro hazing. I only hoped it was worth it.

“Tell us what your greatest fear is,” Bram demanded.

I thought about whether to laugh or to take the question seriously. It was hard to tell what the right thing was, being that they weren’t much more than shadowy figures. Literally. Also, one of them was in full-on cosplay robe.

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid of spiders.”

More silence. I imagined them turning toward