Finally, I settled in behind my desk and stared at the giant pile of folders that appeared on my desk, ready to be sorted.

But I couldn’t make myself pick any of them up. I sat for a while, staring monotony in the face, and my thoughts wandered once again to the mysterious omega soul whose siren call had been filling my every waking moment. I was setting myself up for disappointment, I knew it, but I no longer cared.

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CHAPTER 6

After the party, I threw myself into my work for the next two weeks leading up to the Halloween bash. I finished my ‘desire’ painting, despite not being completely happy with it, and continued on with the rest of my midterms and tried not to think about what I had seen the night of the party.

Cleo had asked me countless times what had happened, and I found myself not being able to tell her. How was I supposed to say that I was heartbroken about my crush having sex with someone else... but also that I had been incredibly turned on by it at the same time? I couldn’t say that. It was crazy.

So I found myself hiding at the library as much as possible, which was where I was currently. Surprisingly, our university had an entire section on the occult and I was skimming through the stacks of books looking for something to inspire me. I needed to figure out what to draw in the old house that Kappa Sigma Psi had chosen for the party.

The books, however, were all stiff textbooks and not really what I was looking for. I was just about to give up and try Google when a thumping noise drew my attention to a book that had fallen off of one of the shelves.

It was smaller than the rest of the books, and when I picked it up, I found that the cover was made of leather. It was the kind of leather you could only get from decades or centuries of fingers running over it in order to make it smooth.

I flipped it over in my hands, looking for a title or author, but found none. The only thing on the front was an embossed ram’s head that stared at me balefully as I ran a finger along the ridges of its design.

Sliding a finger under the cover, I found myself hesitating. It was just a book, so why was I so nervous about opening it?  Shaking off the strange feeling, I flipped the book open and was surprised to find that, instead of printed words, everything was handwritten and hand drawn.

The words weren’t in a language that I recognized, so I turned my attention to the drawings. There were symbols scrawled over every page and with every symbol my excitement grew. This was exactly what I had been looking for, and my fingers itched to draw them out.

On the last page was a large circular symbol that contained crawling vines and runes that I didn’t recognize. I stared at that page the longest, running my fingers along the drawing and deciding that this would be the biggest piece that I drew at the party.

Gathering all of my things from where I had abandoned them at a table, I left the library with the book tucked under my arm.

It was only much later that I realized that I had never checked the book out and that the library censors never went off as I left.

“You are not wearing that.” Cleo pointed at the t-shirt and leggings that I had chosen to wear to help decorate for the party.

“What’s wrong with this?” I hadn’t been planning to stay for the party, and the clothes that I had chosen would be easy to move around in as I chalked in the symbols that I had been practicing in my sketchbook over the past week.

Cleo was dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, but sexy. Her purple tank dress was short and exposed her pretty freckled legs and her hair was pushed back with a green headband. I was pretty sure that Justin would be dressed as Fred when he came to pick us up later.

We were getting ready to head over to the house where the party was being held a few hours early to help get everything ready. I would be taking care of all of the drawing and other visual decorations while Justin and Cleo worked with the rest of the fraternity brothers to move around furniture, set up speakers, and get all of the food and alcohol together.

“It’s a costume party, Eden. That implies that you should be wearing a costume.” Cleo said it slowly, like she was worried that I wouldn’t understand it unless she spelled it out for me.

I didn’t want to tell Cleo that I didn’t really have any intention of staying for the actual party since it would only end in an argument. “I don’t have a costume,” I said instead.

When Cleo’s expression shifted and her lips turned up into an almost cat-like smile, I knew that I had said exactly what she had wanted me to.

Cleo practically skipped over to her wardrobe and pulled a garment bag from its overstuffed depths. “I figured you would say that. So, being your very bestest friend, I ordered you one.”

She shoved the bag into my hands and began to steer me in the direction of the bathroom.

“Cleo...” I started, but she cut me off by shutting the bathroom door in my face.

“Don’t you ‘Cleo’ me, Eden Evans. You have been in a funk ever since that party. You are going to put on that costume and I am going to get you laid like the bad bitch that you are. No arguing. Now put on that costume and come show me how sexy you look in it.”

Cleo’s tone brooked no argument so, with a sigh, I unzipped the garment bag before proceeding to gasp.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groaned as I pulled out the silky white costume that was complete with an obscenely large pair of feathered angel wings and a headband with a halo on it.

“I’m not,” Cleo sang from the other side of the door, where she was probably listening to make sure that I was actually getting dressed. “Don’t forget the bra and panties that are in the bag too!”

I grumbled the entire time that I changed out of my clothing and slid on a pair of white lace panties and bra that fit perfectly. I was pretty sure that Cleo had dug through my closet to get all of my sizes because the bra cupped my heavy breasts and supported them, giving them the look of cleavage even without an added shirt for support.

The dress itself looked like it came from the sixties, it was the epitome of boho. Made of a white satin material that shone under the bathroom lights, and it was on the shorter side, with the skirt ending a few inches above my knees. It was also edged with a white lace. The sleeves were long and flared out at the elbow and the same lace was present along the edges of the sleeves.

What was really throwing me off, though, was how low the V of the dress was. It just barely covered the top of my bra and the swells of my cleavage were hard to ignore as I turned from left to right.

“Do you need help?” Cleo asked and I sighed and tugged the door open and showed her the dress, ignoring the little tendril of happiness when she gasped and looked me up and down.

“Bitch. You look hot!” She squealed as she slipped past me and grabbed the wings out of the garment bag.

“Isn’t this too much cleavage?” I asked, worried that too much of it would spill out of my dress while I was decorating later.

“Not even a little bit, there will be girls at the party wearing only thongs and bras, so even if you were to flash a nip you would still probably be on the more conservatively dressed side of things,” she assured me as she helped me into the angel wings.

I glanced over at the full-length mirror and couldn’t help but admire how the satin dress sat on my plump curves. I did look nice.

“Can you hand me the hair band?” I asked, holding my hand out.