Night School

by C. J. Daugherty

  When he stopped, they were both panting, and looking into each other’s eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait one more minute,’ he said breathing heavily, his blue eyes holding hers.

  ‘Do it again,’ Allie said, pulling insistently on his shoulders.

  He smiled. ‘If you insist.’

  The second kiss was longer, and if possible, more passionate, as his lips travelled down her neck and his hands tightened on her hips.

  ‘We should go and join the others,’ he whispered regretfully after a few minutes, his breath warm against her throat. He brushed her swollen lips lightly with his thumb. ‘Although I hate to say it. They’ll be wondering where we are.’

  ‘Stupid them,’ Allie whispered.

  He smiled and stepped back from her, although he still held her hand. ‘Now we shall enjoy the croquet.’

  ‘Yay,’ Allie said weakly. ‘Croquet.’

  As they walked back around the corner she could see that everyone had been waiting for them, including Carter, who was talking to Lucas. His eyes told her that he knew exactly what they’d been doing.

  ‘Allie! Sylvain,’ his tone was mocking. ‘This is great. What have you been up to?’

  Surprised by his aggression, Allie flushed with anger. She thought they’d had a moment out in the woods when they understood each other and maybe they could be friends.

  But now Carter seemed worse than ever.

  Sylvain pulled her closer. ‘Unfortunately, Carter, our teams are set already. We do not need another player.’

  ‘I didn’t come to play.’ Carter put the emphasis on the last word. ‘I came to see how Allie was doing after her fall last night.’

  Allie could feel everyone’s eyes on her. ‘I … I’m fine, Carter. Thanks.’ She faltered under his gaze which seemed to challenge her, as if she’d done something stupid.

  ‘That’s great. You do seem much recovered.’ His words dripped sarcasm. ‘Did you hurt your lips too? Or is that from something else?’

  Allie’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, as Sylvain took several steps forward.

  ‘Why are you still here, Carter?’ he asked icily.

  Carter stared at him, unflinching. ‘I just wanted to see if what I suspected was true.’

  ‘Have you seen all you need to see?’ Sylvain’s voice was low and menacing.

  ‘Hey, everybody,’ Ruth stepped between them. ‘Come on. Stay calm. Let’s not get into something here.’

  Carter ignored her. ‘Oh, I’ve seen enough, Sylvain. You know what I’m going to say, right?’

  Ruth sighed and stepped out of the way. They were now standing no more than a foot apart, glaring at each other. Allie wrapped her arms around herself.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re going to say, Carter,’ Sylvain said.

  ‘Leave Allie alone.’ Carter took another step, bringing him just inches away from Sylvain. ‘You know this is wrong.’

  Sylvain smiled pleasantly. ‘Thanks for your advice, Carter. Now I suggest you leave us alone to play our game.’

  They stood glaring at each other for another moment, then Carter turned to Allie. ‘Don’t believe anything he tells you. He’s a liar.’

  Although she was thoroughly confused, Allie raised her chin defiantly. ‘I don’t need advice from you, Carter. I make my own decisions.’

  She saw anger in his eyes, but without another word he stormed off into the woods.

  Allie’s hands were shaking. What is wrong with him?

  ‘Well, that was unpleasant,’ Sylvain said, swinging a mallet casually. ‘Shall we get on with the game? Allie, should we be blue?’ Allie nodded mutely, her head still ringing with Carter’s warning.

  When she had a second she grabbed Sylvain’s arm. ‘What was Carter talking about?’ she whispered.

  He brushed her hair back from her forehead. ‘I think he fancies you, ma belle. Perhaps he is jealous.’

  As he walked off to take his shot she frowned. Maybe he was trying to scare me away from Sylvain. But, given how he talked to her, it was hard to believe Carter fancied her at all.

  She couldn’t imagine the evening being anything other than miserable after that, but in the end, it had been kind of fun. The hoops were treated with light-absorbing paint, which meant that, the darker it became, the more they glowed. The mallets had LED lights that you activated by clicking a button on the handle. The balls glowed whatever colour they were painted. This made the lawn gradually more colourful as darkness fell. In the end, they could hardly see one another, but they could follow each other’s movements through the lighted mallets and rolling coloured balls.

  Ruth was very good, and showed Allie techniques to keep the ball moving in a straight line. When Allie managed to knock one of Phil’s balls off the playing area, Ruth laughed.

  ‘I’ve taught you too well!’

  By the time the game was over and they began putting the equipment away, Allie found that she was laughing with Ruth and leaning comfortably against Sylvain, who had draped his arm casually across her shoulders. He caught her eye and she felt a tingling sensation of anticipation.

  ‘You have the most beautiful eyes,’ he said. ‘They are translucent, like your soul.’

  Turning, he said good night to the others and whispered in her ear: ‘Walk with me?’

  She nodded eagerly, her throat tightening.

  They walked through the dusk around the back of the school. Near the back door he stopped and pulled her into his arms. He spoke softly, ‘I’ve had a lovely evening, Allie. I’m glad Carter didn’t upset you too much. He just wants you for himself.’

  While Allie doubted his assessment she didn’t let it show on her face. She smiled at him. ‘I had a good time too.’

  And she had, despite everything.

  Then he pulled her close and nuzzled her neck before lifting his mouth to hers, and Allie felt all her concerns melt away. He could do the most amazing things with his lips. Her heart pounded and her breath came in short gasps as he kissed her ears, licking her earlobes delicately. Reaching her arms up, she twisted her wrists behind his head.

  When Zelazny shouted ‘Curfew!’ from the back door a few minutes later, Sylvain lifted his head regretfully.

  Allie wasn’t ready for him to stop. ‘Do it again,’ she insisted.

  He smiled, his hands warm on her waist. ‘It’s curfew. We have to get inside.’

  ‘One more time?’

  Tantalisingly he leaned over. She lifted her face and parted her lips in anticipation, but he pecked her quickly on the cheek. ‘Inside, young lady, before you get detention.’

  ‘Curfew!’ Zelazny shouted again. ‘Last call!’

  Sylvain draped his arm possessively over her shoulders. As they joined the crowd at the door they passed Katie and Jules. When Allie saw the venom in Katie’s expression she smiled at her beatifically.

  Allie: one, Katie: nil.

  TWELVE

  When Allie went down to breakfast the next morning, Jo was waiting impatiently outside the dining hall.

  ‘How was it?’ she asked without preamble, following Allie in. ‘Tell me everything.’

  As she piled scrambled eggs and toast on her plate, Allie laughed at her. ‘You’re so nosy.’

  ‘He kissed you again, didn’t he?’ Jo said. When Allie nodded she squealed. ‘He so fancies the pants off of you. Did he ask you to the ball?’

  ‘Nope,’ Allie said. ‘So maybe he just likes kissing me.’

  ‘He will ask you,’ Jo said confidently as they walked to their usual table.

  ‘Carter was totally weird last night, though.’ Allie told her what had happened, and Jo frowned.

  ‘That is … bizarre,’ Jo said. ‘Do you think he’s jealous?’

  ‘No way.’ Allie was firm. ‘He hates me. The way he acted last night … it was like I repulsed him. And I don’t know what was going on between the two of them but it was seriously intense. I thought for a second they’d get into a fight.’

  �
��Carter wouldn’t dare,’ Jo said. ‘He’d be in unbelievable amounts of trouble if he did. Anyway, who cares? Sylvain fancies you! And he’s so going to ask you to the dance.’

  Throughout the week the ball was the only subject of conversation – who was going with whom, what they would wear, how everyone was allowed champagne and there was no curfew at all.

  Sylvain was involved in a major project, so Allie rarely saw him. But the way he looked at her each time they saw each other made it clear that Saturday night was not an aberration. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. When they passed in the hallway he would pull her into a hug, or run his fingers down her arm. Every time the encounter left her slightly breathless, and hungry for more.

  But he still hadn’t asked her to the dance.

  At the same time, Carter completely blanked her. Whenever she saw him he looked over her head. In class, their eyes never met. He treated her like she didn’t exist, and by Friday, Allie was determined to find out what was really going on. She just wasn’t sure how to do that.

  After class that afternoon, she ran to the library in hopes of finding an obscure book of poetry for Isabelle’s English class. When she pushed the door open it slammed into someone heading the other way.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, then stopped. Carter glowered at her in the doorway.

  When he started to walk by her without saying another word, she’d had enough. ‘Hey!’ she whispered sharply. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘Nothing.’ His voice was distant.

  ‘Oh really?’ she said ‘Then why are you so broken?’ Shoving her way past, she walked into the library. She heard the door close behind her. Then he grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.

  ‘You do not get to call me broken,’ he hissed in a stage whisper.

  She could see how angry he was but she couldn’t have cared less. ‘I can call you whatever I want, Carter,’ she said, shaking his hand off her arm. ‘And the way you’ve been acting lately is not normal. It’s totally lame.’

  ‘What is normal, Allie?’ he whispered angrily. ‘Define normal for me. Is Sylvain normal, for example?’

  She felt a chill run down her spine. ‘What kind of question is that? What’s he got to do with the way you treat me?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, but his eyes said differently. His dark brows were lowered, and she could sense the tension coiled within him before he spoke again. ‘Everything. How can you be so stupid? I thought you were clever, but you’re just another stupid girl. You don’t know the first thing about him, or about this school, and yet you’ll make a public spectacle of yourself snogging him.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘I’m not—’

  ‘Not what?’ he interrupted her. ‘Not falling for Sylvain’s well practised lines? Really? Because to me it looked like you are.’

  He was so angry that she felt panic rising as she tried to reason with him. ‘Carter, I don’t understand – so I’m seeing Sylvain now. So what? Why do you care? You hate me anyway.’

  He stood so close to her that she could feel his breath on her cheek. He smelled of spice and coffee. ‘You think I hate you?’ Those deep, dark eyes held hers. ‘I don’t. I just thought you were smart.’

  When she opened her mouth to argue he put his finger lightly over her lips. Her eyes held his for a long second. She could taste the salt of his skin on her tongue. Then he swore under his breath, turned on his heel and walked away.

  ‘The question of the day, Allie, is should you wear your hair up or down?’ Holding a wide-tooth comb, Jo studied Allie’s head intently. It was Saturday morning and they were in Jo’s room. Allie sat in front of a mirror. They were surrounded by the gowns from Allie’s wardrobe and shoes from Jo’s limitless supply. Jo had insisted that they needed to ‘practise’.

  Allie twisted a strand of hair around her finger and then released it. ‘Does it matter? The dance is in two weeks and Sylvain still hasn’t asked me to go with him. I might as well dye my hair green and shave it into a mohawk.’

  Jo held one pair of shoes up to a dress, considered it, and then tried another pair. ‘Sylvain is going to ask you to go with him,’ she said. ‘I have it on the best authority.’

  Allie looked at her hopefully. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ Jo pointed a kitten heel at her accusingly. ‘So get serious. Hair up or down?’

  ‘Um … I don’t know.’ She picked up a brush and ran it through her hair. ‘So … who’s Lucas going with?’

  ‘Lisa of course.’ Jo’s voice was muffled as she pulled out another pair of delicate shoes.

  ‘And Carter?’

  ‘I hear he’s asked Clare.’ Jo set down the shoes. ‘I think up would be best.’

  ‘Up is fine. Who’s Clare?’

  ‘Small, blonde, pretty. In our biology class. Third row over. I think she’s in English with you too. He pulled her last year and then dumped her. Everyone was furious with him, because she’s so sweet. Seems like they’re getting back together.’

  Allie studied herself in the mirror. Why should I care who Carter goes with?

  She pulled her hair up with her hands. ‘What a complete bastard. Yes, I think you’re right. Up could work.’

  Jo smiled. ‘Excellent. Once we choose a dress I’ll know what to do with it.’ She spread the three dresses out on the bed and studied them critically. ‘Right. Strip and try them on. Today we decide.’

  The first dress Allie tried was black and fitted. It brushed her ankles, had a high neck in the front and was backless. It was incredibly sophisticated.

  ‘Lovely,’ Jo said, studying the line of the dress. ‘But it’s a bit too old for you.’

  ‘Totally. I look, like, thirty.’ Allie pulled it over her head, dumping it back on the bed. The next dress was white, with a long straight skirt and spaghetti straps.

  ‘Gorgeous!’ Jo pronounced. ‘Summery. Virginal.’

  Allie wrinkled her nose, then twirled in front of Jo’s mirror. ‘It’s a bit clingy,’ she said doubtfully. The dress hugged every curve, leaving little to the imagination.

  ‘But you pull it off,’ Jo said. ‘It looks amazing with your colouring, and I have the perfect shoes for it.’

  The last dress was Allie’s favourite. Dark blue silk and knee-length, it had a full skirt with a built-in organza petticoat. Its low beaded V-neck plunged just far enough in the front, and the back was high. The sleeves were tight and ended just below her elbow. It fit like a glove.

  When Allie pulled up the side zipper and turned around, Jo gasped dramatically, her hand to her heart. ‘You look amazing. That is a dress you should wear every single day of your life. Except at the summer ball.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s a winter dress. Everybody else will be in light summer frocks and you’ll be sweating in heavy silk. Save it for the winter ball. It’s much more important than the summer ball anyway. Hide this dress away until then, though. This will be what you wear the night you blow everybody away.’

  Jo seemed so certain Allie couldn’t see the point in arguing with her. She knew little enough about clothes, having always been a jeans-and-trainers kind of girl. On the rare occasions when she’d dressed up for weddings her mother had chosen her outfits. But she had to admit the white dress suited her.

  Jo held up a pair of silver sandals with low heels. ‘What do you think? Are they perfect or are they perfect?’ she asked, beaming proudly.

  Holding her hands up in surrender, Allie laughed. ‘I guess they’re perfect.’

  ‘Now, for your hair …’

  Jo led her back to the chair and sat her down. She ran a comb through the thick waves of her hair and pulled it up into a loose ponytail. With no access to the henna she’d used at home to colour it bright shades of red, Allie’s hair was gradually fading to its natural dark brown.

  Jo worked in silence for a while, but Allie could see she was thinking. After a moment she said, ‘So, why do you care who Carter takes to the ball?’

  Allie squirme
d uncomfortably. ‘I don’t really care … I just wondered. How do you know for certain that Sylvain’s going to ask me?’

  Jo twisted a strand of her hair into a glossy loop and pinned it into place. ‘A little bird told me. A very knowledgeable bird.’

  ‘I wish he’d get on with it,’ Allie muttered, watching her hair take stylish shape. ‘Everybody else already has a date.’

  ‘There.’ Jo stepped back and smiled at her in the mirror, obviously pleased. ‘Sylvain would be lucky to have you.’

  Allie’s usually unruly hair looked sleek and shiny, loosely twisted with white silk ribbon into a chignon. A few curly strands framed her oval face, drawing attention to her grey eyes.

  ‘That’s amazing,’ Allie breathed, looking at herself in astonishment.

  ‘That’s how you’ll wear your hair,’ Jo said, adding modestly, ‘if you like it.’

  Allie hugged her. ‘I love it. Where did you learn to do all this stuff?’

  ‘Girl school,’ Jo said blithely as she gathered up shoes from the floor. ‘Which I think you’re now enrolled in, too.’

  Allie was quiet for so long that Jo, who was busy putting shoes away, stopped and looked at her worriedly. ‘Are you OK? I didn’t mean anything by that.’

  Allie smiled at her. ‘I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just that I had the weirdest thought.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Jo had returned to organising her shoes.

  ‘Even with everything that’s going – even with Carter being an arse, and Sylvain not asking me, and classes being super-hard – with all that, I think I’m sort of … happy.’

  ‘That’s because you’re crazy.’ Jo laughed.

  ‘No, I mean it. I’m really happy. For the first time in a long time. You know, I thought I’d hate this place. I was ready to hate it. And the old me would have hated thinking about dresses and dances and shoes and having my hair done and worrying about how I look. But I don’t hate it. I … kind of like it.’