“Do you really think that could happen?” Amber asked wide-eyed.
“I don’t know, but I can’t take a chance. For now at least, I’m just going to go along with her. You’re my safeguard, Amber. Ms. Lacusta won’t risk anything if she knows that you’re aware of our independent study arrangement.”
“Are you going to tell her?” Alarm colored Amber’s voice.
“Maybe. If I feel as though I have to. But don’t worry. I promise I won’t put you in any danger. You’ll just be there to make sure I show up to lunch every day after my meeting with her... and to be certain that I’m still... me. You know, that she hasn’t gotten into my head.”
“And you’re really not going to tell Michael?” I could feel Amber’s strong concern almost as well as I could hear her thinking. This is so not a good idea. Michael will freak if he finds out. This is a huge mistake...
I frowned and deliberately concentrated on shutting out her thoughts. My mind was made up, and I knew what I had to do. It killed me to think of keeping something from Michael, but I knew that it was for his own good. Worrying about me would distract him from schoolwork, and I was sure that he’d be able to justify telling my parents by convincing himself that I was in imminent danger.
“Not right now, at least,” I answered Amber finally. “After I’ve proven that I can handle Ms. Lacusta, I’ll tell him everything. Don’t worry about it, Amber. It’s all going to work out.”
But I was afraid that it wasn’t going to work out easily. As I drove home after school, I wished that I had work hours at the nursery today that would give me an excuse to avoid my parents a little longer. Fleetingly I toyed with the idea of driving out to Sawood anyway, just to spend some time with Marly. But I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to be completely honest with her, either, and I decided I might as well go home.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to directly lie to my mother. When I got home, she was in her office. I peeked in to say hello, and she came right to the point.
“Did you talk to the guidance counselor?”
I nodded and delivered my prepared line. “Yes, I told her I wanted an elective instead of the independent study. Home ec was full, so she put me into woodshop.”
My mom made a face, almost involuntarily; obviously my aversion to power tools and sawdust was genetic. Then she shrugged. “Well, you do what you have to do. It’ll be an easy A for you, I guess.”
I shrugged. “I guess. I have a ton of homework, so I’m going to get started.” I fled to my room, relieved that I hadn’t had to fabricate, only dodge.
We repeated the scene later at dinner with my father. Neither of them seemed anxious to delve too deeply into the topic; I could feel that they were both relieved that it was no longer an issue.
Michael was going to be another matter entirely. I picked up the phone as soon as I heard his distinctive ringtone.
“Hi.” He was cautious, I could tell; I wondered if he had been as preoccupied with our talk from last night as I had been.
“Hello.” My words too were tentative.
I heard him blow out a long breath. “Tas, I’m sorry about last night. I feel so helpless being up here. When I heard about the whole thing with Ms. Lacusta—well, I kind of lost it a little, I guess. But I didn’t mean to jump on you.”
His obvious sincerity only made me feel guiltier about what I was about to withhold.
“It’s okay,” I answered. “I might have been a little defensive. Yesterday was a long day. And I just get tired sometimes of feeling as though everyone thinks I’m helpless, that I can’t take care of myself. I’m not. In ten days I’ll be eighteen. I really am capable of making my own decisions.”
Michael’s laugh was self-deprecating. “I know that. You’re one of the most capable people I’ve ever met. Maybe it’s more that I want to be there for you. I want to protect you, even when I know you don’t need it. And Ms. Lacusta—Tas, no doubt about it, she’s bad news. We knew that last year. The idea of her anywhere near you just makes me crazy. I’m sorry if I made it sound like I doubted you.”
“I wish you could be here to watch over me, too. Even if I don’t think I really need it.”
He sighed. “Are we okay, then? All day long all I could think about was you and how I hate to feel like we’re fighting. I couldn’t concentrate at all.”
I laughed and sank onto the bed, feeling inexplicably lighter. “Yeah, I get that. And yes, we’re okay. I guess we’re still learning how to do this—the being apart, the new ways of communicating. I hate it.”
“I do, too. So let’s talk about something good. I was looking at the football schedule today, and I happen to notice that homecoming is the first weekend in November. I was wondering if maybe you’d come up and be my date.”
I squealed in surprised delight. “Really? I could do that? How would I get there? Where would I stay?”
Michael’s laugh was relaxed and genuine. “Hey, I don’t have all the details worked out yet. I thought I better ask you first. After last night, I wasn’t sure you’d want to come up.”
The guilt hit again, hard. “Don’t be ridiculous. I always, always, always will want to be with you. We’ve argued before. This wasn’t any different.”
Michael hesitated before answering. “In a way, it was, because we’re apart physically. Before, if we disagreed, you could hear my side of it. You knew what I was really thinking. I don’t think I do a very good job of explaining myself sometimes.”
“You do fine.” Emotion was choking me, and I couldn’t say more than that. “So tell me more about this homecoming weekend.”
An hour later, when I’d flipped my phone closed and was still basking in the glow of our conversation, it struck me that I hadn’t had to lie outright to Michael anymore than I had to my parents. He hadn’t asked me about the independent study. That was odd.
A wave of uneasiness broke over me and stayed with me for the rest of the night.
I sleepwalked through my first three classes the next day, preoccupied with what—who—waited for me during fourth period. Amber’s obvious anxiety that morning before the first bell didn’t make me feel any better. She was standing at my locker when I arrived, and her forehead was furrowed with worry.
We didn’t talk very much, but Amber was thinking so loudly that I couldn’t keep her out of my head. Strong emotion on anyone’s part tended to render my typical blocks useless, and my own feelings made me even more vulnerable.
“Really, Amber, it’s going to be fine,” I assured her for the fifth time.
“Oh, I know, I know,” she replied. “You can handle anything. I’m not worried.” Her eyes shied away from mine, and I suppressed a deep sigh as I slammed my locker door.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” I said, forcing a cheerfulness I was far from feeling.
“I hope so,” she muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.
I was glad that most of my classes were still in the vague fog of the first week. None of the teachers seemed to notice that I wasn’t quite with them. I took notes automatically, knowing that later I’d look at them without any familiarity.
When the bell rang at the end of third period, I moved slowly across the crowded walkway, wondering distractedly how long I could delay my arrival in the chemistry classroom. I picked up random musings here and there as people passed, and I winced as a blare of thoughts in Spanish hit my inner ear.
Even as they faded, the unfamiliar words gave me an idea. Maybe if I approached the chemistry room unseen, I could catch Ms. Lacusta off-guard and hear what she was thinking. I knew that she probably thought in her native language most of the time... but it was worth a shot, I decided.
With that in mind, I moved with more purpose toward the chemistry classroom. Just outside the door, still out of sight of anyone in the room, I paused, leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. To anyone passing me, it would appear that I was waiting for someone. With the sidewalks still full of moving students, though, I dou
bted anyone would look my way.
I concentrated on tuning in Ms. Lacusta’s mind. It was a struggle to rise above the thought-noise of the people around me, and mentally I pushed them away, impatiently. I breathed deeply, culling out the background sounds.
I was almost there—I could hear the familiar interference-like buzz that I always heard from her mind, and I thought I just might be able to move beyond it—
“Tasmyn! Hey!”
I jerked my eyes open and glanced about, still unfocused. With my mental block down, all of the sounds I’d worked so hard to ignore came rushing in upon me, and I winced involuntarily.
“Hey, are you all right?” Rafe Brooks stood in front of me, staring down uncertainly.
With great effort, I bit back the annoyance I felt at being interrupted. “Yes, thanks. I’m fine. You just startled me.” I knew my tone was less than friendly, and frankly, I didn’t care. This kid just couldn’t seem to take a hint.
“Oh. Sorry. Are you waiting for class?” he inquired, throwing a glance into the dim room behind me.
“Actually, yes. I have an independent study in this room right now. I was just—um, kind of waiting for the bell to ring.” It was as good an excuse as any, I decided.
“Huh. Is that chemistry then?” Rafe seemed a little confused.
“Yes,” I repeated. “Chemistry. Independent study. Why, don’t you think a girl can handle it?” That was meant to be ironic, but since Rafe probably didn’t know Ms. Lacusta—and might not even know of her reputation for preferring female students over males—it only sounded arrogant.
“Uh, no, not at all. I just thought--“ He frowned slightly. “I have independent study this period, too, and I wanted to do chem. But the guidance counselor told me that they weren’t offering it, that none of the teachers wanted to facilitate. I’m doing history instead.” He made a face.
I wanted to scream, but I realized it probably wouldn’t help the situation. Instead I forced myself to ask the question to which I thought I already knew the answer.
“Who’s your facilitator for history?”
“Mr. Frame. Do you know him?”
Once again I kept my ire in check, although the effort of not exploding opened me up to hearing Rafe more clearly.
Why did she get chem? I asked for it when I first registered, this summer. And I got the stupid history assignment instead. I wonder if they’d let us trade. Maybe I can talk her into it.
“Yes, I know him,” I answered his last spoken question. “He was my history teacher last year. He’s pretty great. You’re lucky to have him.”
Rafe shrugged. “I’m not that into history. I’m hoping to go into the research end of medicine, so a chemistry independent study would be exactly what I need.”
“Sorry,” I said shortly. “I didn’t exactly ask for chem. either—“ Abruptly I felt the atmosphere shift, and the disturbingly familiar uneasiness that heralded Ms. Lacusta’s presense surrounded me. At the same time, I saw Rafe’s eyes move over my head and rest on the doorway behind me.
“Tasmyn?” Her voice was low and not unpleasant. “Are you coming in? I’ve been waiting for you.” There was just a hint of chiding.
I sighed in resignation and turned. Before I could go through the door, Rafe caught my shoulder. I swiveled my head around, prepared to snap at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was focused on the teacher instead.
“Ms. Lacusta?” He sounded eager. “I’m Rafe Brooks. I requested you for my independent study facilitator, but I guess there must have been a mix up.” Huh, if I knew this was what she looked like, I would have really pushed harder for the chem. study. Bet I can still talk her into it.
I didn’t know whether to feel revulsion at the idea that he found Ms. Lacusta attractive or amusement over his assumption that she could be persuaded to take him on as a student. I merely raised one eyebrow and leaned back to watch the show.
Ms. Lacusta didn’t disappoint. Her usual aura, always faintly disturbing, took on a distinct chill. Her dark eyes were flat, and her expression was disdainful.
“I’m not aware of any mix-ups,” she replied stiffly. “I’m working with Miss Vaughn.”
Rafe’s confidence didn’t waver. “Well, maybe we can arrange something. I have a pretty extensive background in chemistry. I took a college-level course last summer in California—“
“Then I am sure anything I could teach you would be redundant.” Ms. Lacusta’s voice had a note of finality. “Now, if you’ll excuse us—“
“But maybe I could work with you, too. I mean, if Tasmyn doesn’t mind, we could both do the independent study with you. We could just meet on different days. I’d be willing to work around whatever you already have set up with Tas.”
I frowned with irritation at his easy use of my nickname. This guy barely knew me. He was being much too presumptuous in both word and thought.
Ms. Lacusta’s limited patience was at an end. “I am not interested in taking on another student. My work with Tasmyn will be quite consuming.” I glanced at her in alarm. “Consuming” for whom? Somehow that word made me even more apprehensive. Suddenly I wished that Rafe had been able to change her mind.
But she had already turned her back on him. “Come, Tasmyn, we have so much to do, and we’ve already wasted precious time.”
Numbly I followed her into the classroom and watched as she closed the door behind us, in the face of a very surprised Rafe. If I weren’t so worried, I might have giggled.
Ms. Lacusta swept up the center aisle in front of me, her heels clicking on the tile floor. I followed slowly in her wake, pausing beside one table. I brushed my hand lightly over the surface, remembering the first time I’d sat here, on my very first day at King High. It wasn’t quite a year ago, and yet it seemed a lifetime had passed.
I glanced at Nell’s old seat, directly in front of mine, and smothered a deep pang. I wondered if somehow she knew where I was, what I was doing. If she did, I doubted that she would approve.
“Tasmyn, join me up front, won’t you? There’s no need for you to sit back there. After all, it’s only the two of us.” Her smile was slightly ironic, but the chill had evaporated from her demeanor. I approached her reluctantly.
“Have a seat.” Ms. Lacusta gestured to a chair that was pulled up along her desk, and when I had perched on its edge, she sank into her own.
For a moment, she just gazed at me, as though assessing my state of mind.
Nervously, I held my hands in my lap and tried to steady my wobbling mental curtain, through which I was getting unsettling bursts of the odd static Ms. Lacusta seemed to emanate.
I drew in a breath. “You should have chosen Rafe for this study. Apparently, he’s a chemistry whiz. I couldn’t care less about it.”
Her laugh was light. “I’m not here to discuss chemistry with you, Tasmyn. That’s merely... oh, how would you say it? The cover of the book. And haven’t you been told not to judge a book by its cover?”
I hadn’t expected her to admit this so quickly. “Then why are we here? What do you want from me?”
She smiled again, and her expression was almost affectionate. “It’s not what I want from you, Tasmyn. It’s what I wish to do for you. And explaining that will take some time. We will let it unfold naturally. But first, you must relax. You cannot be so suspicious and stiff each time we meet. Trust that I have only your best interest at heart.”
“It’s very hard for me to believe that. After everything that I’ve heard from Amber—and from Nell—did you have their best interest at heart, too? They thought so, in the beginning. And it didn’t work out too well for them in the end.”
Ms. Lacusta raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “We’ve already discussed my feelings about Nell. She was a very disturbed young lady, and I’m only sorry that I didn’t see that until it was too late. If something had happened to you, I would have never forgiven myself for any part I might have inadvertently played in Nell’s illness.”
Disb
elieving outrage burst from me. “Something did happen to me. And to Michael, and to Amber. The fact that it wasn’t fatal doesn’t let you off the hook.”
She continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “As for Amber, well, I regret that she was pulled into a situation that was clearly beyond her. That was obviously Nell’s delusions at work.”
I suppose my face reflected my skepticism, for Ms. Lacusta sighed and shook her head. “I can see that this is not going to be easy for you. How can I persuade you that this doesn’t have to be a painful experience?” She studied me for a moment, and then brightened. “I know! You enjoy history, don’t you? You said something about it to that boy. That’s where we will begin.”
“History?” I queried. “Do you mean the history of... chemistry? Or the history of... ” I hesitated. “Something else?”
“I told you, we’re not here for chemistry. I want to teach you a little about a different kind of history.” She opened a drawer at the bottom of her desk and pulled out an ancient looking book. “Here. We’ll begin with this. You can take it home with you, read it... we’ll meet here again on Monday. I’ll look forward to hearing your insights.”
I looked at her blankly. “You don’t want me to come here for the rest of the week?”
“No. Take the time to read. Go to the library, or sit outside... I don’t care, as long as you stay out of trouble, which I doubt would be an issue.” She shook her head in bemusement at my expression. “What did you expect, Tasmyn? Did you think I was going to require you to be with me each day so that I could better brainwash you? Trust me, if that was my intent, it would be already accomplished.” Ms. Lacusta gestured with her hand. “Go ahead. The class period is nearly over anyway. I can see that you are anxious to be on your way.”
I stood up, taking the book from her desktop. “I don’t know what I expected. Not a reading assignment, I guess. Well... thanks. I’ll see you Monday.”
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