Peas in a Pod

"This is hazing."

"Someone shut her up. It is not."

"I should report you."

"Emmie, be quiet! Do you want to get blackballed?"

Wedged in the backseat between who knew how many other sorority sisters, Emmie recognized the hissing whisper from beside her as that of Jamie Cross, her best friend. It did nothing to smooth her ire.

"Excuse me, you grabbed me after class, blindfolded me, and now you're taking me God knows where so you basically kidnapped me. How is that not hazing? There are laws against this, you know!"

A caustic sigh came from the front seat. Even before she spoke, Emmie recognized that voice, too: Rebecca Hooser, Tri Zappa Zappa chapter president, the woman whose greatest skill was staring down at the world over her carefully straightened nose.

"We're not going to make you open a vein and drink your own blood, okay? This is tradition, so would you just relax? You'll be fine."

When Emmie opened her mouth to argue some more, a hard elbow jammed into her side. She might still have spoken up but just then, the car began to slow. When the crack and pop of gravel replaced the smooth burr of asphalt under the tires, a tingle of real fear crawled up her spine.

"Where are we? Where are we going?"

A quickly smothered giggle was the only answer she got. She stewed in silence for what felt like hours before the car finally rolled to a stop. Doors opened and closed and as she was helped out of the backseat, she heard the pop of the trunk release. A few minutes later, she was pushed forward, stumbling and blindfolded, until Jamie murmured, "Careful, two steps up."

She managed the steps without tripping, hearing the sound of old wood creaking beneath her feet. The hands at her back and arms fell away. A doorknob, ancient and loose in its frame, rattled as hinges squeaked out a protest.

"Okay, the deal is you have to stay here overnight," Rebecca said from somewhere behind her. "If you leave, you're out, and there are no second chances.  Jamie will be back tomorrow morning to pick you up. Good luck!"

With those annoying cheerful words, hands at her back shoved Emmie forward again. The clunk of hard plastic hitting the floor was almost drowned out by another squeak of hinges as the door slammed shut behind her.

Emmie clawed frantically at the blindfold, shoving it beneath her chin, and rushed toward the door. When she finally got it open, she was just in time to see a sleek little green car drive away. Hands waved merrily out of the windows.

One of them belonged to Jamie. "You'll be fine!" she called, sticking her head part-way out. "I'll  be back tomorrow morning! Early! I promise! You'll be fine!"

Shocked into silence, Emmie watched helplessly as the dust thrown up by the tires settled back against the sparse grass and gravel. Woods surrounded the small clearing, filled with trees just starting to fill with fall colors, and thick, overgrown weeds, brightened occasionally by a spot of yellow or white where a determined blossom grew. The planks beneath her feet were old long before she was born, and were warped and cracked by age and weather. The small square windows built into the walls on either side of the door held only broken shards of glass covered with thin planks of wood, some of which barely held onto the rusty nails securing them in place. The only thing missing, she thought, was a masked serial killer coming out of the woods with a bloody knife.

She stomped one foot, threw her head back, and screamed. The sound had barely faded from the air when a voice spoke from behind her.

"Feel better?"