by Eden O'Neill
I’d read the school’s mascot was “The King” in the pamphlets Dad gave me to prepare, but seeing the motherfucker straight on was a sight. It bared sharp white fangs like actual King Kong, a mock growl at anything that dared to pass its bust. The headmaster had it on a column before his office, and I was sure the life-size version dancing on the football field in a felt costume did exactly what these people hoped it would to anyone going against them in a game. It was truly terrifying, giving me chills as I shook my head and passed. Inside, I was told to take a seat, and eventually, the school’s headmaster, Principal Hastings, did see me. It took a sec. Apparently, he’d been in meetings most of the morning according to his secretary. By the time he saw me, I’d been more than ready to get this show on the road, shaking his hand and letting him welcome me into the institution. It was the traditional song and dance of a new student coming to a foreign school, but I’d honestly been surprised the person at the top of this place had to do something so arbitrary. I supposed the alumni dollars may have required it, so I sat for the introductions and, later, the handoff of my schedule. It was nothing fancy considering the grades I brought in here, and I was sure Dad had to make a couple phone calls just to get me into the place. I didn’t consider myself dumb by any means but I was sure the public school curriculum was leagues behind the place that sported King Kong as its mascot.
“We’re happy to have you here,” Principal Hastings concluded with, placing his hands together on a wide oak desk. “Though, we were very sad to see Paige won’t be joining us this year. Have you heard anything different about her?”
A town this size and school this elite, I wasn’t surprised he’d heard about my sister going AWOL. He was probably one of many I’d hear either asking or whispering about her whereabouts in the days to come.
I opened my hands. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Besides a few texts here and there at the beginning of the summer, I’d heard nothing from my sister, absolutely nothing, and I seemed to be the only one who worried about that. My sister may have had bouts of acting out, but never had she gone such an extended amount of time without word. Especially when it came to me. I shrugged. “I’m hoping with me being here she may come back.”
This really was the plan. Places like this talked, people busybodies. She’d hear I was around.
At least I hoped.
Principal Hastings said nothing to that, simply nodding when he stood. “I hope you’re right and she really will be missed around here in her absence. You’ll be sure to let us know if you hear any changes?”
I told him I would, and after a quick shake, our meeting concluded with him escorting me out of his office. I was told I’d have a guide coming for me to take me to class, and he waited with me for a moment before excusing himself.
“I’m afraid I have another meeting, but you should be all right?”
I nodded as I would, but before he darted off, he waved a finger by his nose.
“This will have to be removed before you start your day, I’m afraid,” he stated, referring to my nose ring. “We do have a strict dress code here, yes?”
I’d popped the hoop in outside of the scrutiny of my dad and in the privacy of a chauffeured car. Apologizing for the error, I removed it, and Principal Hastings left me to wait for my guide standing next to the scarier-than-shit simian bust. The King was giving me the eye like nothing else, and the urge to smoke hit me like a freight train.
Shit.
I usually only did weed when I was stressed and I was damn stressed. I figured I’d at least wait until lunch and bop off somewhere, but this guide was taking too long and I needed a smoke. After a quick scan of the halls, I decided to take the map Principal Hastings gave me along with my class schedule and find some place to hide and light a joint. My travels took me outside, and it was like God was looking down on me because the bell signaling the end of class sounded and the sudden crowds allowed me to blend in. Eventually, I peeled off from the packs of students and escaped behind the administrative offices. The back of campus had an outlook of the water, a little lake of some kind, and venturing, I noticed a moderately sized shack. Considering everyone else was headed in the opposite direction, I darted inside the shack and internally screamed sweet relief to find myself alone.
The place was a boathouse. I mean, stacks upon stacks of what appeared to be long canoes were stored on elevated shelving and I touched one. Obviously, this school had some kind of rowing team as well, and I took advantage of the fact when I decided to light up my joint amongst the clusters of boats.
Damn, did I need this.
I allowed the drug to filter through me as I took a seat in a boat aisle. Using my backpack as a pillow, I lay on it, crossing my ankles and watched as my smoke drifted, then clouded toward the top of the house.
I closed my eyes, feeling the release of the drug before a rustle behind nearly made me drop the joint.
Shit.
I started to put it out but stopped at the sound of a little whimper. Getting on my knees, I followed that sound to another aisle and alarm hit me at the sight of a pair of little eyes underneath a boat. I lowered, and when those eyes turned out to be puppy dog eyes surrounded by dark chocolate fur, alarm instantly shifted to warmth. A puppy, a real live puppy, was under there, and getting closer, I made out the breed, a dark Labrador. I had a friend who had one once, and I recognized it easily.
I reached for it. “What are you doing here?”
Friggin’ cute as hell, the little guy or girl crawled right into my palm, no more than teacup-sized. Pressing him to my chest, I studied to see if he was hurt since he whimpered, but got nothing but licks to my fingers.
“You must have just been lonely, huh?” I asked him, smiling as he pushed his head into my hand. Whatever bothered him before he seemed to be okay now. Standing, I considered a game plan for him, but I lost the thought at the sound of moans.
And two bodies.
One in particular was on her knees, a girl with bright red hair as she bobbed back and forth. I saw her easily between the spaces of several boats ahead, and cradling the puppy, I pretty quickly made out who exactly she bobbed back and forth on.
He stared right at me, a sandy blond with electric green eyes and a grin for days. He grinned at me, cradling this girl’s head while she sucked him off right in front of me. He so obviously knew I was watching, cocky about it. He merely tipped his chin at me before going back to the redhead, those eyes of his falling back into ecstasy, and disgusted, I stepped back. The puppy wriggled in my hands, and completely thrown from what I’d just seen, I accidentally let it loose.
“Hey, hey!” I whisper-shouted, chasing it through the house. I lost sight of it between two boats and cursed before giving up and going back for my bag. I managed to avoid the couple the second time, but I did hear a groan as I made my way back to the boathouse doors.
I slammed it shut behind me, hoping I scared the shit out of whoever they were, whoever he was.
Arrogant ass.
The fucker actually grinned at me, my head shaking as I returned to the quad and went back to the administrative building. I returned to the simian bust, and when my name was called, I turned.
An extremely tall girl made her way down the hall, like the playing-basketball kind of tall. She had dark hair she hiked in a ponytail and didn’t wear a skirt and heels like I did. She wore white basketball shoes with pleated pants, and I had a feeling any skirt they gave her might ride worse than mine.
“Sorry I’m late. You’re December, right?” she asked me, waving. She had a few books in her hands, a smile on her face. “They just told me I’m supposed to take you to class.”
I wondered at the “they” but figured she’d misspoken since Principal Hastings was only one man. I lifted a hand. “Yeah, that’s me and no problem. I haven’t been waiting long.”
Technically, this was true considering my little detour. Fighting myself from cringing at the show before, I shook the tall girl’s hand.
Happy to at least know one person, I followed her across the quad to our English class. The class had already started, but I think the teacher, Mr. Pool, had been warned about my arrival, so he didn’t give us a hard time about it. He introduced me to the class of about twenty-five or so, then Birdie and I took seats off to the side. The room settled for about two seconds before the door opened again, and a familiar face sauntered himself into the room, looking thoroughly satisfied with his chiseled jaw and thoroughly tousled hair like he just had a round in the sheets. Who knew what he and the redhead did before I got there.
His strands of spun gold complemented a clean-shaven face. This guy’s cheekbones could cut glass and I think he knew it. Stopping the class in conversation, he came fully equipped with a note folded between two fingers, one he passed off to Mr. Pool without breaking his stride.
“A late pass from the headmaster,” the guy informed, that smile of his hiking before he ventured to the back of the classroom. Pulling off his blazer, he exposed a set of chiseled biceps and similar forearms when he rolled up his sleeves. He concluded by loosening his tie. Second period English was apparently this guy’s relaxation period. Once he finally made it to his seat, he clasped hands with not one but several guys in the back. Those who didn’t get handshakes got fist bumps, and Mr. Pool merely shook his head at the spectacle.
“I’d expect nothing else, Mr. Prinze,” he said, huffing before tossing the pass on his desk. “If you’re done?”
Mr. Prinze gave him the floor, nodding like he led the class instead of the teacher. What was laughable was Mr. Pool actually let him do that before going to the board and bullet-pointing today’s lesson.
I pulled my English book out of my bag. “I just saw that guy,” I whispered, getting Birdie’s attention. Mr. Pool’s back was still to us, and Birdie turned, looking to the back of the room before facing me.
“Royal?” she asked. “What was he doing?”
That guy’s name would be Royal Prinze. His parents were probably pretty damn impressed with themselves too. It all seemed fitting, though, considering the way this boy owned second period English.
Lowering, I explained to Birdie quickly what I saw in the boathouse. Mr. Pool was still busy at the board, and once my story concluded, Birdie did nothing but smirk.
She lowered too. “I’m not surprised, but I’m sure you know all about that, him.”
“If you’d all turn to page ninety-seven, and we’ll begin our look into the Renaissance period. December, I’ll touch base to see where you are in your studies later, but don’t be afraid to let me know while we work today if you’re lost or anything, all right?”
The attention on me, I pulled away from Birdie and what she said. Giving Mr. Pool a wave, I told him I would, and he gratefully moved on but not without me catching the eye of a certain green-eyed blond. He had his legs crossed, thick and muscular, in my direction. Pen to his lips, he flicked at it with a finger, making a silver ring flash on his right hand.
“Why would I know about him?” I asked, purposely severing his connection with me and talking to Birdie.
She frowned in my direction. “Royal Prinze?” she questioned, to which I shrugged. She tilted her head. “He’s only your sister’s best friend.”
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Checking in
Hey,
I started at Windsor Prep today. First day not bad and Dad sent me off. You mentioned Hubert, but did he take you to school every day? It makes me feel like you were some type of secret Bruce Wayne or something and failed to tell me about it. Speaking of, do you know someone named Royal Prinze? A girl at school told me you were one of his friends, but I find that hard to believe. He’s nothing like you, extremely cocky, and he walks around the school like he owns the place. I also caught him in your school’s boathouse messing around with some girl. Do you know this guy? I was told he was your best friend…
Anyway, I miss you, loser. I get it if you need space, but didn’t we always say we can talk to each other? I feel like something more is going on here considering the way you ran off and your text messages at the beginning of the summer. I wish you’d just talk to me. You know I’m here, right? I’m not going anywhere, and expect these emails a lot. I won’t stop sending them, and I’m not leaving this town until you come back. I owe you. I always will.
Em <3
June 10th
5:08 p.m.
December: Why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?
Paige: I’ve been busy, Em. What do you need?
December: You. You’ve been acting super weird lately. Going MIA. Is it Dad? What’s going on?
10:06 p.m.
December: Hello?
Paige: Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been busy, okay?
December: Okay.
Paige: I need you to not do this. I need space with senior year coming up and everything. Everything’s cool. Just let me breathe.
Three
The second half of the week at Windsor Prep resembled the first: lots of schoolwork I wasn’t academically prepared for in an environment I slowly mucked my way through. The only difference was, I pored over past texts with my sister instead of eating lunch today. I found myself reading even more just to hear her voice in my head.
I need space…
What I currently did was the epitome of lack thereof, and I put my phone down, noticing a familiar face. Birdie’s head hovered above about ninety percent of the lunchroom occupants, and I was surprised to see her. Outside of escorting me to my classes the first day, I hadn’t seen her with the exception of second period English. We had separate lunches, so basically I’d been huffing it on my own. Not alone, she came escorted with two other girls of a similar height, the three easily gliding through the crowded lunchroom. I waved and their party redirected in my direction, all three placing their lunch trays down at arrival.
“Mind if we sit with you?” Birdie asked, her big curly ponytail swaying. “My lunch just got switched, and Kiki and Shakira have this lunch too.”
Definitely not opposed to friendships on this lonely island, I scooted to appease long limbs. I’d ask what she and her friends were into, but considering all three of them wore basketball shoes and one of them even wore a pair of tiny basketballs as earrings, I figured to avoid what was no doubt a cliché question amongst the three.
“Thank God,” I chose instead. I moved my tray for more room. “I seriously was considering eating in the bathroom.” Day one and two of the new girl eating by herself? Completely okay, but doing so over three days in rocked a new kind of pathetic.
Birdie and her friends laughed at this, Kiki an Asian girl with a face full of freckles and Shakira a dark-skin beauty with her hair in tight twists. All three had a few questions about my full plate of Skittles, Pop-Tarts, apples, and tofu, which I easily explained. I had to get my snack and sugar fix here at school since Dad had basically shut that ship down.
“Vegan, huh?” Shakira questioned after I explained my lunch choices. “Couldn’t do it.”
“I love my meat too damn much.” Kiki chomped a large bite out of her burger, and Birdie did the same but apologized for the display of burgers and chicken fries before me. I told them that didn’t bother me, used to pretty much all my friends not being vegan back home. Also, since my choice for being vegan was just as much about the health factor as helping animals, I told them that and even made them laugh when I told them I still had an appreciation for the smell of bacon, Chick-fil-A, and anything with cheese but simply chose not to eat it. That made them ease up a bit about offending me, and we fell into easy conversation about my first week and how I was getting along. I had a couple pain-in-the-ass classes I knew I’d been strug
gling with just because of my track record at my old school, and they offered tips where they could since they’d had quite a few of my teachers over the years at the academy. Naturally, the conversation moved on to me and my sister, but I was happy it focused more on our background as siblings versus where she currently was. I didn’t know anything, and I think they picked up on that pretty quick, considering my lack of information and one- or two-word answers surrounding the subject.
“You know, I never heard anything about Paige Lindquist having a sister before you came,” Birdie concluded, making my chest squeeze a little that Paige kept me out of her life here just as much as she had the other way around. I always figured this town and the life she lived had been a sore spot, I supposed, considering her tumultuous relationship with our dad. Birdie dunked a chicken fry in barbecue sauce. “Are you half?”
“No,” I stated, our background a weird situation. “Our mom died of cancer when I was eight and she was nine.”
They frowned conjointly.
Birdie cringed. “I did know that. I’m sorry.”
I waved my hand, all that a long time ago. “Anyway, Dad got a job here not long after, and both Paige and I could have gone with him, but I chose to stay in LA. A lot of memories there, I guess. Didn’t want to leave.”
“Who did you stay with?” Birdie asked.
“My aunt Celeste. My mom’s sister. She works a lot but she was there for me.” And her doing so was something I couldn’t thank her more for. Single and kidless, she didn’t have to take her sister’s kid but she had, and even though I was pretty much raised on TV and the internet due to her work schedule as a hospital nurse, I managed to push through in the end.
I didn’t mention my metaphorical bumps and bruises along the way, but either way, Birdie and the others didn’t poke. Birdie offered me a French fry from her other basket, and after I took it, she brushed her hands.