Chapter 95: Trying to Fit In
Our second day at Northridge University started with a mess, and of course, Elena was at the center of it.
We’d agreed the night before: keep our heads down, act normal, and don’t draw attention. That lasted about ten minutes.
By the time Aidan and I got to the lecture hall for Comparative Mythology, Elena was already in an animated debate with the professor about whether werewolves existed. She was leaning across her desk, grinning like she had the man trapped in a corner.
“I’m just saying,” she said loudly enough for half the room to hear, “every culture has stories about shapeshifters. Wolves, lions, even bears. It’s statistically impossible for all of them to be coincidences.”
The professor—gray-haired, spectacled, the picture of academic patience—pinched the bridge of his nose. “Miss Grant, myths are not literal. They’re allegories. Archetypes.”
Elena raised a brow. “Or maybe they’re cover stories. You know, so people like you can sleep at night.”
A few students chuckled. One guy actually clapped.
I slid into a seat beside Aidan, muttering, “We’re supposed to be undercover, remember?”
He smirked. “This is Elena’s idea of undercover. She’ll keep them so distracted with nonsense, no one will notice the truth.”
“That’s not a plan,” I hissed.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “It’s working, though.”
I tried not to shiver.
\---
After class, we regrouped at the student union. Ethan was glued to his laptop, typing furiously, while Rhea stared at the vending machine like it was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.
“Why does it have so many buttons?” she asked.
“It’s a vending machine,” Ethan said without looking up. “You put money in, push a button, and it spits out snacks.”
“But which button is safe?” Rhea pressed, her tone deadly serious.
“None of them,” Elena said, flopping into a chair with a smirk. “It’s college food. Might as well eat gravel.”
Rhea frowned. “Then why do students keep buying it?”
“Because salt and sugar are addictive,” Ethan muttered.
“Like you and your laptop?” Elena shot back.
That got his attention. He looked up, glaring. “Excuse me, I’m busy breaking into a cult’s database, thank you very much. You think that’s easy? These people encrypted their mailing list with a rotating cipher.”
Elena smirked. “Wow. Nerd words. I’m impressed.”
“You should be,” Ethan said, puffing his chest a little. “I’m brilliant.”
“You’re insufferable,” Elena corrected, but her smile gave her away.
I shook my head, sipping my coffee. Sometimes I wondered if they were secretly dating, or just one sarcastic argument away from killing each other.
\---
Later in the day, Aidan and I ended up stuck in a study group for History of Secret Societies. The irony wasn’t lost on either of us.
The group was small: me, Aidan, a bubbly redhead named Kara, and a guy who wouldn’t stop flexing every time he spoke.
“So like,” Flex Guy said, “the Knights Templar totally survived, right? I mean, they’re still around. Just hiding.”
Kara giggled. “Oh my God, you’ve been watching too many movies.”
I forced a polite smile. “Actually, he’s not wrong. Secret societies tend to resurface in different forms. They adapt.”
Aidan smirked at me. “You sound like you’ve studied this before.”
“Just a hobby,” I said quickly, feeling heat creep up my neck.
“Some hobby,” Kara said, scribbling notes. “You sound like a pro.”
“Yeah,” Aidan added softly, his eyes lingering on me. “She kind of is.”
I shot him a look under the table, silently warning him not to push it. He just smirked harder.
\---
By evening, Ethan finally had a breakthrough.
He stormed into our temporary dorm suite, laptop under his arm, eyes wild. “Okay, everyone, gather ‘round. Big news.”
We clustered around the small kitchen table. Elena was eating chips straight from the bag, Echo leaned silently against the wall, and Rhea perched on the counter.
“I got us access to The Circle’s invite list,” Ethan said proudly. “Guess who’s on it?”
“Gregory’s ghost?” Elena offered.
“Try again.”
“The Hollow Creed?” I guessed.
“Nope. Students,” Ethan said, spinning the laptop toward us. “Dozens of them. All high-ranking members of The Circle. And they’re not just philosophy nerds—some of them are from very powerful families. Political connections, corporate money. This isn’t a cult. It’s a recruitment pool.”
My stomach turned. “Recruitment for what?”
Ethan’s smile faded. “That’s the part I haven’t cracked yet.”
Aidan leaned in. “So how do we get in?”
“Tomorrow night,” Ethan said. “They’re holding a gathering at the old Kappa Delta house. Invitation only. And…” He hesitated. “…I might’ve already signed us up.”
“You what?!” Elena nearly choked on her chips.
“Relax,” Ethan said. “I used fake names. They’ll think we’re new recruits.”
“Great,” Elena muttered. “A frat party with cultists. Just what I wanted on a Thursday night.”
I rubbed my temples. “If this goes south—”
“It won’t,” Aidan said firmly, cutting me off. His eyes locked on mine. “Because we’ll be together.”
\---
That night, I lay awake in my dorm bed, staring at the ceiling. The muffled noise of campus life drifted through the window—laughter, music, the occasional shout. Normal sounds. Human sounds.
But my mind wasn’t on them. It was on tomorrow night. On The Circle. On what we’d find in that house.
And on the growing suspicion that whatever waited for us there wasn’t just going to test our cover.
It was going to test me.