Anathema by James Cosgrave

Author:James Cosgrave [Cosgrave, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780999239988
Publisher: Meq Media
Published: 2020-08-24T22:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Eight

Strobe lights pulsed all around as Chet made his way to the bar. He had to shout over the music to order himself another beer, then let his eyes wander down the server’s backside as she filled him a pint from the tap.

When she handed it to him, he slid a ten over and pointed to the number on the bill. “That’s you, babe. Keep the change.” He winked and strolled off with his drink, taking in the atmosphere.

Grotto sat above the Rancher on the main drag. On one half stood picnic tables where tired clubgoers could rest and refresh; on the other was the dance floor. Chet spotted the boys; they were up on the stage at the back, dancing with girls by the DJ’s booth. He watched Blaine, his nose still in a splint, grinding on Melissa. He’d acted so protective around her since October, when he’d accused the two of them of sleeping together. Chet rolled his eyes at the memory. His and Blaine’s friendship had always been strained.

He sat down at an empty picnic table, taking a load off; he’d been dancing pretty hard for the past forty-five minutes. Chet put his feet up on the bench and kicked back, leaning against the table-top beside him for support.

As he began sipping his beer, he was tempted to pull out his phone and see how many comments the video had gotten now in the Radcliffe Facebook group. It had been a couple days, but last he’d checked, none of them had been from Anathema members. That was disappointing. They probably had a policy not to respond to shit like that, but legions of others—okay, maybe just the Saunders guys and a few other Serpentine adherents—had commented and teased the secret society, attempting to provoke it into that glorious battle of the modern age: the comment section flame war.

Just as he reached for his phone, he decided against it. It was time to chill. As of this morning, he was officially on Winter Break. Tomorrow, he would return home to Montreal a king. He’d helped stir up some shit this semester and hoped some would settle by January, just so he could stir it back up again. And when the Bard finally lit the fuse on Anathema, he intended to enjoy the fireworks.

Kevin emerged from the dance floor, heading straight for him. Chet sat up as he took a seat. “Sup, man?” he shouted over the music.

“Just taking a break,” Kevin said.

“You done your exams?”

“Nah, I got one tomorrow. Afternoon, though. I didn’t want to miss partying with the boys.” The way he said those last two words sounded forced, like he was trying to mimic the way Chet talked.

He didn’t like it but shrugged anyway. “Well, here you are.”

Kevin laughed awkwardly. “Man, I still can’t get over that video you and Blaine filmed. It was so badass! And that nickname you came up with for them—Anassema—was fucking gold.”

Chet tried not to roll his eyes. Kevin was the

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