The field was blessedly empty when we got there.

I felt exposed in the middle of the grass, campus far on one end and woods approaching on the other. We found a spot near the shadow of the football bleachers--still in full moonlight, but sheltered from campus view.

“What’s the first step?” Toby asked. I squinted at the notes I’d written, wishing I’d put them on my phone.

“You have to undress,” I said. I heard him grumble, but he started pulling his shirt off.

I busied myself setting up the candles in a pentagram shape. We’d gotten cheap candles poured in tall glass (only you can prevent forest fires), and several didn’t want to light.

I snuck a glance at Toby. The moon illuminated his pale skin, making him glow almost silver. As he turned, I saw the shadow forming on his left ribcage--a fine pattern like tree roots tracing his veins.

The Averus mark.

He hooked his thumbs into the waist of his pants, and I almost burned my fingers on the match.

“You okay?” he asked as I dropped the match, cursing.

“Fine,” I said, eyes fixed on the matchbook.

“What’s next?”

Toby stood fully naked at the center of the pentacle.

Eyes up, Paige, I thought. Eyes up, eyes up, eyes up--

“Paige?” he said.

“Yeah. Next--” I squinted at the page again. “The boysenberries.”

“And I do what with these?” He sounded irritable. It was getting cooler at night. I couldn’t imagine he was comfortable.

I hurried to get the jar out of the box. The sooner we got this over with, the better.

“You--paint it,” I said, trying to make out what I’d scribbled down. “On your face. And… other places?”

“Other places?” A hint of humor came through his voice.

“Other places,” I repeated.

“Was he… specific?”

“... No,” I said, my voice very small. Nico had really said other places.

I kept looking at the paper to avoid looking at Toby’s face.

“I guess I should… cover all my bases, then,” he said. He sounded so put out, I had to stop myself from giggling.

Now was not the time.

I turned my back and stepped outside of the circle of candles as Toby unscrewed the jar of jam. All that was left was incense--I lit the old sticks my aunt had given me for my birthday.

“What do I do with the incense?” he asked.

“Trade you.” I took the sticky jar from him and handed him the sticks. “I think you just… wave them around.”

“Wave them around,” Toby echoed.

“Bask in the smoke,” I clarified. Not that it helped. Toby started to wave his hands.

“And…” I said, reviewing the paper again. I checked the time. 11:59. “At the stroke of midnight, you… dance, to bring in the glow of human health.”

“Dance?” Toby was close to his breaking point. I could hear it in his voice.

“Just…” I shrugged, helpless. “I don’t know, Toby. He just said dance. Maybe you could just… like…”

I wiggled my hips a little. Toby stared at me, covered in jam, incense in either hand.

Then, slowly, he started to move his hips.

I was glad it was dark, to hide the red flush in my cheeks. I looked at the clock again.

“Midnight,” I whispered.

Toby kept moving. As the second hand ticked past 12:01, I could see him start to loosen up.

His elbows bopped to an unheard beat. He started to pick up his feet, hopping from one to the other, doing a little two-step as he gyrated his hips and slid his shoulders back and forth.

I let out a small giggle, and he froze up.

“Sorry. I’ve never seen you dance before,” I said. “Are you feeling anything?”

“Nothing yet,” he said. “Do I look different?”

I couldn’t tell in the darkness.

“Maybe you have to keep going,” I said, and Toby started moving again. His head bopped back and forth, but I could see his impatience growing in his dance moves.

“Am I supposed to feel anything?” Toby asked.

“Careful of the candles--”

“Maybe I’m not doing the right kind of dance,” he said.

“Nico didn’t say what kind of dance,” I said, reviewing the paper again.

“Well, what kind of dances did people used to do?” Toby pushed.

“I don’t know, Toby, the macarena?” It was close to 12:05. The longest five minutes of either of our lives.

Toby stopped dancing.

“What exactly is this ritual supposed to do?” he asked.

“Make you feel more human,” I said.

“Right, but how, exactly,” he pressed.

“I’m--” I thought about what Nico had told me, and came up with a whole lot of nothing. “I thought it was to make you blend in better. But--”

“Fuck,” Toby said.

We both stood there for a moment. Candlelight danced across Toby’s jam-smeared body. His red eyes glowed more intensely than before.

Then, both of us opened our mouths:

“There is no ritual,” we both said.

“He was messing with us,” I said, realization hitting me like a blow to the gut. Toby threw the incense to the ground, and I jumped forward to scoop them onto a plate before they burned the grass.

“That piece of--”

“What are we going to do?”

“Make me feel more human?” Toby snapped. “Make me feel like a fucking idiot more like--”

A twig snapped at the end of the bleachers. Both of us spun around.

A small cluster of students stood there, peeking around the corner of the bleachers. . I recognized a few of them from Daybreakers--including Miguel, who stepped forward with a flashlight. I watched the light dance towards Toby and dove for the box--I pulled out a blanket just in time and flung it at him to cover himself.

“Higher,” I whispered, and he pulled it up over his ribcage to cover the tattoo just as the flashlight illuminated him in the dark.

The jam created strange shadows on his body. I hoped it was enough to disguise his new form. He lifted a hand to his face to shield his eyes from the flashlight--and hide their red glow in the process.

“Toby?” Miguel said.

“What are you doing out here?” Toby asked.

“I could ask you the same,” Miguel said. The flashlight drifted downward to rove over the candles in the grass, then flicked over to me. I flinched away from the painful brightness.

He directed the flashlight back at Toby, who didn’t respond.

“We’re pledging Eta Pi,” another student said, lifting a fraternity banner. I wasn’t sure if his name was Bart, or if he just looked like a Bart.

I saw the flashlight glint off a gold pledge pin on Miguel’s shirt–all the pledges were wearing one.

“Just some hazing shit,” Miguel said. “Can’t really talk about it.”

“Me too,” Toby said. Miguel frowned.

“I haven’t seen you at meetings,” Miguel said.

“Not Eta Pi. It’s a secret society,” I said quickly. Miguel flicked the flashlight back in my direction. “I don’t even know anything about it, I’m just here to help. Aren’t you a junior?” I said, desperate to change the subject.

“I’m a late pledge,” Miguel said. “Just looking to change it up this year. Haven’t given up on Daybreakers, though,” he said pointedly, directing the flashlight back at Toby. I could see the blanket starting to slip--his Averus mark starting to peek over the edge. Fortunately, it blended in with the jam on his body… I hoped.

From the few times I’d met him, I was starting to notice that Miguel rarely looked directly at me--and talked to me even less.

Maybe I didn’t need to explain my presence that night. Miguel was talking to Toby as though I wasn’t even there.

Peeved, I watched both of them stare at each other. The other pledges shifted nervously.

“We’re done,” I said loudly. Miguel finally lowered his flashlight. “We’re gonna go. Let you do your pledge thing.”

“Yeah, hope you get in,” Toby said.

“Same to you,” Miguel said. “Secret society, huh?”

“Grad thing,” Toby said, as I blew out candles and flung them into the box. “One of those international… professional deals.”

“Professional,” Miguel repeated. I had to keep myself from snorting. Toby was naked, covered in jam behind the football field. There was nothing professional about this.

But they had to buy it. Or we were going to be in… a real jam.