Everly Academy

by V. B. Marlowe

“What happened to your other teachers?” Molly asked. If Bea hadn’t answered her question, maybe the girls would.

  The girls fell silent. Allison rocked back and forth. “Pruitt . . . Pruitt . . . Pruitt.”

  “Pruitt?” Molly looked to Lily for help since she seemed to be the one who took care of Allison the most.

  Lily nodded. “Ms. Pruitt was our last teacher. She kind of . . .”

  “Kicked the bucket,” Isleen finished.

  Gretchen winced. “God, Izzy. Show some respect.”

  Isleen sighed deeply. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?” She turned to Molly, taking in her startled expression. “Well, we didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking. Ms. Pruitt was young like you when she got here, but over time she grew old and wrinkled and just withered away like a dead houseplant. I wonder what that feels like. She was here for over seventy years.”

  Molly had a sinking feeling. Like someone had tied an anchor to her ankle. “Excuse me?”

  Dru tugged at a string at the hem of her denim shorts. “Ms. Dillinger, we’ve been here for a very, very long time. Since before your great-great-grandmother was born.”

  Molly sank even lower into the armchair. “Okay, this is what I want to do. Even if we don’t get through it all in one sitting, I want to go around the room, and I want you to tell me who you really are or anything else you’d like me to know. Since you have so much to say, let’s start with you, Isleen.”

  The girl looked like she might protest, but then Molly knew she would never pass up the opportunity to talk. Isleen let her fingers graze over her sparkling tiara. “My father was the king of what is now known as Italy. When I was born, my seven fairy godmothers came to bless me. Ms. Bea was one of them. The other fairies blessed me with things like beauty, grace, and wisdom, but she blessed me with a protection spell, allegedly. A lot of good that did because I was promptly cursed by one of those damn witches who wanted revenge on my father.”

  “How did she curse you?” Molly asked.

  “The hag had the gall to show up at my christening and condemn my father for killing her sisters when he was just trying to protect the innocent from the witches’ wrath. He was only being a good king and trying to protect his people. She said that no matter what I did or how tired I got, I would never sleep. I have never had a good night’s sleep in my life. Not even a nap.”

  Molly was floored. She couldn’t imagine a person not ever going to sleep. Sleeping was the best part of her day. She needed it to rejuvenate her mind and body. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.”

  “As a baby I drove my nannies crazy because they could never put me down for a moment’s rest.”

  “Trust me, it’s worse for us,” Scarlett said.

  Isleen shot her a look. “Shut up, New Girl.”

  Scarlett scowled at her. “Stop calling me New Girl. You know my name.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’ve been here for over two hundred years and you’ve been here for six months. You will always be the new girl.”

  Molly found that bit of information quite interesting. Why had all the other girls been there for so long except for Scarlett? “So, you’re like the reverse version of Sleeping Beauty.”

  Isleen made a face. “Briar Rose,” she said in a mocking tone. “That story is so stupid. Those Grimm brothers thought they were being so clever. I wish I could sleep for years until a handsome prince kisses me awake. I don’t even know what sleep feels like, but I hear good things about it.”

  Molly made a mental note. Sleeping Beauty. She looked to Tress next, who sat beside Isleen like always. “What about you?”

  Tress ran her fingers over one of her long braids. “Guess.”

  Molly thought for a moment and then released a breath. “Rapunzel.”

  Tress beamed. “The one and only. That whole story that’s supposed to be about me never happened. I was never locked in any old tower, and no boy ever climbed my hair to come up and see me. I imagine that would be quite painful. My long hair is a curse, though.”

  Molly couldn’t imagine that being true since it was so lush and beautiful. “How is your hair a curse?”

  “May her hair be her weakness, the witch told my father. It is but only at night when it grows. It’s extremely painful. It feels like someone is tugging on my hair strand by strand as hard as they can. It happens to me every night from midnight until sunrise. I hate the nighttime.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Molly couldn’t imagine having to experience such extreme pain repeatedly every night. She felt terrible, especially since it was happening to someone who seemed so sweet. “I’m sorry, Tress.”

  Tress shook her head. “I get a trim every single day, but it still grows and grows and grows.”

  “Her father was the king of the neighboring kingdom,” Isleen added. “It’s Switzerland now. Our fathers were very good friends.”

  Tress nodded and touched Isleen’s hand. “Just like us.”

  Isleen smiled tightly. “Next.”

  “I have to hydrate soon so I’ll go next,” Marina said. “I’m a mermaid. My father is King Triton, the king of the sea. I say is because even though I have been around for centuries, merfolk aren’t like humans. We live for thousands of years. My father, grandmother, and sisters are still out there somewhere.”

  The Little Mermaid was one of Molly’s favorite tales because she loved the ocean. Still, she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she was supposedly staring at a real mermaid.

  “The witches weren’t only attacking on land. They were causing trouble in the ocean also. My father killed the great sea witch, and for that I was punished. Every two hours I must swim in the pool, which is filled with salt water just for me. If I don’t do that, I’ll dry up like a stone and die.”

  Now the bikini made perfect sense to Molly.

  “My curse is that I will forever be stuck between being a person and a mermaid, but worst of all, I can never be with my family again. There’s no way I can survive underwater the way I am now. I’d die before I even reached our kingdom.”

  Molly thought her curse was slightly better to live with than the ones Isleen and Tress had to bear, but it had to be torturous to know that your family was out there, yet you could never be with them.

  “Why don’t you go next, Lil,” Isleen suggested. Lily ignored her and looked at Molly. “Who do you think I am? And don’t say Pocahontas.”

  The thought had crossed her mind, but she’d pushed it away since Pocahontas wasn’t technically a fairy tale. Molly studied the girl. She was gorgeous, but her ethnicity was a little ambiguous. She could have been a variety of things. “Give me a hint?” Molly asked hopefully.

  Lily looked to the ceiling. “I’m also a princess. I fell in love with a boy who never wanted to grow up.”

  “Tiger Lily from Peter Pan.” Molly hadn’t even thought of Peter Pan, but she could totally see it. Lily nodded. “That’s me. My father was the chief of our tribe.”

  “What’s your curse?” Molly asked. She was almost afraid to find out.

  Lily shrugged. “It probably doesn’t seem like much to you, but it’s torture to me.”

  Most of the other girls looked at her sympathetically. “Don’t say that, Lily,” Jolie said. “Your curse is just as painful as anyone else’s if not more.”

  “What is it?” Molly asked again.

  Lily paused before answering. “A broken heart.” Allison rested her head on Lily’s shoulder, and Molly felt a sting in her own chest. That was a pain she could relate to. Lily continued. “I fell in love with Peter much to my father’s dismay. He had been trying to marry me off to suitor after suitor, but I was having none of it. Then I met Peter. I couldn’t help myself. He was like no one I’d ever met before. Wendy and I got into a feud over him just before I was cursed and whisked away to live here. He became Wendy’s. Every single night without fail, they come onto my balcony. She sings to him, and they talk about how much they love each other until the sun comes up. Even
if I leave my room, their voices follow me. There’s no escaping them.”

  Molly tried to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat. “I’m sorry, Lily. I can only imagine what that feels like . . . and I agree that it’s a very painful curse.” Molly had been dreading running into Clay and Jessica at a party or even in passing at the mall, and she imagined how devastated she would be. She couldn’t picture having them visit her every night to serenade each other with love. She’d be so angry she’d want to kill someone.

  “Dru,” Isleen said. “Tell her who you are.”

  Dru peered at Molly with her glistening brown eyes. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Princess and the Pea.”

  Molly nodded. “Sure. Is that your tale?”

  “Yes, and it’s actually accurate until the end. The prince’s mother, the queen, was a witch. She was jealous and hated that her son had fallen in love with me, so she cursed my skin. Because of my color, you can’t really see it, but the slightest touches give me bruises at night. I can barely lay down to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “I’m sorry,” Molly told her. At that point she really didn’t know what to say to the girls.

  “That’s it for royalty,” Isleen announced. “If you want to know the rest of their stories, that’s up to you, but we’re the ones who matter.”

  “Don’t start that again, Izzy!” Oriana snapped. “You know good and well Ms. Bea hates that kind of talk. We’re all equals here.”

  Isleen narrowed her eyes. “Of course, she hates it because it reminds her of how horrible she is at her job—her job of protecting princesses. Not you.”

  Oriana huffed and folded her arms over her chest and focused her attention on Molly. “Anyway, long story short, I turn into a bear at night. A big, furry brown grizzly bear.”

  Molly cleared her throat. “Excuse me? Did you say you turn into a bear?”

  “Yes. My father was a bear hunter, so it was a witch’s idea of a joke. To turn his own daughter into the thing he spent his life hunting. There was no Mama Bear, Papa Bear, porridge, or anything from that children’s story—just a girl with golden locks who shifts into a bear. It happens every night. That’s why I leave the house, spend the night in the woods, and then come back in the morning. Scarlett too.”

  Molly focused her attention on Scarlett, who was still throwing angry glances at Isleen. “Yeah, I turn into a wolf. Wolvenblood—that’s what the condition is called—runs in my family. My grandmother was just like me.”

  Isleen picked at the pink polish on her nails. “Great. Now that the filthy beasts have told their sad tales, let’s get on with it. Jolie?”

  Jolie froze, staring at Isleen, but then she went on. “I was cursed to be both a beauty and a beast. I don’t look this way at night. After midnight my face transforms into some freaky animal thing. It’s hideous. Don’t worry. I lock myself up at night so no one else has to see me.”

  Tress nodded. “We don’t even know what she looks like at night, and it’s been two hundred years.”

  Molly found it hard to believe that such a beautiful face could turn into something ugly. She folded her hands in her lap to keep them still. She wasn’t sure how much more of these tragic stories she could take. Molly was beginning to feel that her own problems were so small compared to what the girls had to live with. “What about Allison?”

  Lily spoke for her friend, who stared through the window at the mention of her name. “From what we can tell, her story’s true except they leave out the part at the end about how her adventures in Wonderland had driven her mad.”

  Molly wished Allison were able to speak for herself because she was curious to know more about her.

  “Well,” Gretchen said, “I guess I’m the only one left. My brother and I killed a witch ourselves. I pushed her into an oven to save my brother’s life.”

  Molly gasped. “Hansel and Gretel. That’s my favorite fairy tale.” No matter how many times Mr. Dillinger read the story to Molly, she could never get enough of the wicked stepmother who got what was coming to her, a witch getting burned in her own oven, and what kid wouldn’t be mesmerized by a house made entirely out of candy and sweets? Molly’s mouth always watered just thinking about it.

  “When the witches found out, they cursed both my brother and me. He’s still out there somewhere, probably looking for me. Since we had eaten some of the witch’s house, the sisters cursed me to have an insatiable hunger for sweets. I eat them until I get incredible stomachaches, but even then, I can’t stop.”

  “So,” Isleen said, “now that you know the truth about us, what are you going to do about it?”

  Molly was speechless. The girls watched her, waiting for an answer, but she couldn’t even begin to answer that question. She had never felt so overwhelmed in her life. Marina stood abruptly. “I have to hydrate.” Then she disappeared through the door.

  Scarlett rose to her feet, giving Molly a sad smile. “Maybe we should give Ms. Dillinger some time to digest this all. It’s a lot.”

  The girls silently agreed and quickly exited the room. Molly remained in her seat, wondering where she would even start. So many thoughts were flying through her mind. She didn’t want to believe the girls, but she knew they had no reason to lie. A huge part of her wanted nothing more than to leave the cursed estate, but there was a part of her—the part that wanted to help and nurture—that was beckoning her to attempt to save the girls she barely knew. She took a deep breath as her gaze darted across the empty study. “What’s it going to be, Molly? Fight or flight?”

  7

  Bea and Ms. Halifax stood at the window of Ms. Bea’s bedroom, which overlooked the front yard of the great estate. This was where they conducted their top-secret discussions. The office was just for show. Bea’s quarters were where decisions were made, and where great debates took place. Ms. Halifax’s face was tight and pinched with stress.

  “Are you sure you’ve made the right choice?” Ms. Halifax asked. “She seems like a perfectly nice young lady, but she doesn’t appear to be built for this.”

  Bea gave her assistant headmistress a half smile. “Oh, I’m sure. Have I ever been wrong before when it comes to choosing a teacher for the girls?”

  Ms. Halifax had to admit that she hadn’t. “But that was a while ago. One thing I’ve noticed about this current generation is that they don’t seem to be made as tough as the ones who came before them. They are more fragile, more selfish, and they tend not to want to work too hard for anything.”

  Bea made a tisking sound. “Now, Mildred, that is quite an unfair generalization. I believe Ms. Dillinger is stronger than she appears. She has a good heart, and she wants to do positive things. For most of her young life, she believed that fairy tales were true, and she knows them like the back of her hand. I’m quite happy with my decision.”

  Ms. Halifax studied Bea for a while and then stared through the window again. “She’s not sold yet. She’ll try to run again, you mark my words. And every time she does, the girls will take personal offense to it.”

  Bea knew very well what this was about. Ms. Halifax could be quite jealous when it came to her. She didn’t want Bea to like Molly or to get close to her. “The girls are not dense. They’ve been through this before, and they know people trying to run away is a normal reaction. I would be worried about the person who didn’t try to run. This is quite the unbelievable situation. Truth be told, once she finally believes and realizes that this is not some twisted dream, I think she’ll need Everly Academy just as much as we need her.”

  Ms. Halifax huffed. “Even so, you haven’t told her everything. There’s no telling how she’ll react once you tell her that we’re running on a strict deadline and that every day she spends here her own life is in danger.”

  Now that, Bea had to agree with. “I’ll tell her everything. She has a right to know, but first I want her to experience how wonderful this place really is. She needs to see how we have everything she could possibly need or want and then some. I
think that will help to persuade her to be on board.”

  Now it was Ms. Halifax’s turn to make a tisking sound. “Yes, I’m sure selling this place as a luxury spa will make the perfect consolation prize for being trapped here for the rest of her life. She won’t come around. Trust me.”

  Bea turned away from the window. “She won’t be here for the rest of her life like the others. And as for coming around . . . well, she doesn’t have much of a choice, does she?”

  After meeting with the girls, Molly retired to her room to let their conversation sink in. Her mind was still reeling from all the stories she’d heard. The first thing she noticed when she’d entered her bedroom was that the suitcase she’d tried to leave with sat beside her bed and the clothes she packed inside were now unpacked and sitting in neat piles on her nightstand. It was just as well, she thought. Molly had decided that she couldn’t stay. What help would she be to them? She’d be leaving again at nightfall, and this time she wouldn’t be taking a suitcase.

  Molly threw herself across her bed and stared at the ceiling. This was her first time getting a good look at it. The night before she’d noticed the fine artwork, but she’d been too exhausted to examine it. There was a series of watercolor paintings going from left to right. The first painting pictured a girl sweeping and looking quite sad. The next had the same girl, but instead of wearing the rags she had worn in the first picture, she wore a beautiful ball gown. In the next she was at a ball dancing, surrounded by people. In the last square she was running away from a castle and leaving a glass slipper behind. It was the story of Cinderella. Molly had always enjoyed that tale and the dozens of retellings she’d read, but nothing compared to the original version written by the Grimm brothers. The ending was gruesome, but Molly felt that everyone had gotten what they deserved.

  Molly sat up and peered through her window. Dusk was falling, and the sky had grown darker. She was surprised that the day had gone by so quickly yet seemed so long at the same time. She felt as if she’d been at Everly Academy much longer than a day.