by Eden Beck
They all settle in at a table opposite ours and begin chatting. It isn’t until Alaska’s head conspicuously turns to look back at me that I realize she was staring too.
“I don’t like her vibe,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“She’s got that uptight bitch feel. Always trying to make sure she and everyone around her are her fucked up version of ‘perfect’. Girls like that are usually one side-eye glance away from snapping like twigs,” Alaska says between bites of her sandwich.
I can weirdly relate.
I watch as Sterling pulls out Bridget’s chair and the two trade a strange, overly familiar glance. For some reason, I feel a twist in my stomach, but I wash it down with a swig of water and turn back toward Alaska and Clark.
“She seemed nice enough, but I wonder if she’ll still be nice now that I confused her twin brother for her boyfriend.”
Alexa nearly chokes on her water. When she recovers, she looks pityingly at me over the top of her glass.
“Good luck,” she says. “All it takes is a whiff of something and those girls will go off.”
“Still, wouldn’t suck to have that kind of draw though,” Clark chimes in. “I mean, look at her, I’d bet there isn’t anyone in here who hasn’t stared a little.”
My eyes search the room and sure enough, every so often someone will glance up from their sandwich or salad and their eyes will dart in her direction. She leans back in her chair like a duchess holding court with Warren, Chase, and Sterling as her subjects.
This isn’t the sweet front-row girl I thought I met. This is something else entirely.
Whatever her charade was yesterday, it certainly hadn’t lasted long.
Still though, my attention is drawn less to her and more to the boys. We didn’t have guys at Sisters of Virtue, minus the teachers, so this is my first time being able to watch them move through the day as they normally do … and I find myself more fascinated by them than I should be.
I’m giddy, almost.
Not in a creepy kind of way, more like they’re creatures at the zoo that I finally get to observe.
Okay, maybe that is kind of creepy. Still … the only interactions with boys I ever got before this were formal co-ed dances and a few group “hangouts” that I somehow got invited to. I can’t help but notice how Warren pushes his hair back away from his eyes and how Sterling has a bit of a sideways smile.
And Chase … Chase …
Chase is missing, but only for a moment.
Seconds later, I find him in the crowded hall when a rhythmic thump, thump, thump echoes toward us from the open double doors. Chase comes bounding through, dribbling a basketball.
“Yo, Sterling, heads up!” he yells as he flings the basketball over the heads of eating students and toward Sterling, who barely catches it before it hits another girl squarely in the face. A devilish grin spreads across Sterling’s own face, and I know what he’s going to do even before he does it.
Without hesitating for so much as a second, Sterling jumps up from the table and starts dribbling back toward Chase, precariously weaving in and out of students carrying their lunch trays.
“Warren, look alive!” he shouts as he flips the basketball in Warren’s direction. Warren swipes it from the air and immediately shoves it back toward Chase. Other students are rapidly clearing away from the impromptu game as Chase starts to charge toward one end of the dining hall where a large trash bin sits.
The dining hall erupts in cheers and shouts as if it were an official school competition. Sterling jumps in front of Chase, trying to block his view as Chase ducks and swerves.
A few feet away, Chase launches the ball into the air and it arcs toward the “basket.” However, before it can fall, it’s snatched out of the air by a tall, serious-looking man in a smart blazer. The cheers cease and the room falls silent. The man stares down the boys.
“Are our athletic facilities inadequate gentlemen?” he says in a calm but disapproving tone. His voice is deep but has a hint of edge to it. “We spent quite a lot of money on them, so I’m surprised that you feel they’re not the appropriate setting to test your sportsmanship. Granted, they lack the thrill of danger incurred by lunch trays and unwilling participants, but I should think they make up for it with their hand-laid floors and pristine locker rooms.”
His words command weight, even from the boys—at least at first.
“Who is that?” I ask, leaning in to whisper to Alaska and Clark.
“That’s Dean Stanton, head of the school,” Clark replies. “Notorious hard-ass, I heard he used to be a sniper in the Army and can tell if you’ve got a guilty conscience from three hundred meters away.”
I instinctively shrink back, just a bit.
The dean slowly walks over toward Chase, still frozen in the spot where he tossed the ball from. He hands the ball back to Chase with a calmness that is more terrifying than if he had yelled.
“However, this seems as important a time as any to discuss teamwork, yes?” the man says. “Everyone in your seats, now please.”
The boys retreat back to their seats next to Bridget, who rolls her eyes and shoots Warren a menacing look. As every student settles in, the dean slowly walks up and down the rows between tables and begins to speak.
“No man is an island, I’m sure you’re all familiar with this saying, yes? Well, what does it mean? It means that we are all affected by one another. Our choices, the decisions we make, are inevitably connected to those around us. Our neighbor affects our life as much as we affect theirs.” His deep voice carries through the silent hall with a kind of reverent echo.
“Here at Ridgecrest, we see our student body as a team. And as such, when on a team and one person errs, the entire team is affected. You are all here to improve yourselves individually, of course. To learn from the mistakes of your past and grow into better individuals in your future. But to do that, you must learn from each other as well. Gain insight from the choices and mistakes that each other make so as not to repeat those in your own life.”
Shit, I can see where this is going.
The dean’s slow walk has landed him at the front of the hall. He steps up onto the small stage and looks out over the crowd of students.
“So, seeing as your fellow classmates decided that the athletic facilities were not up to their standards, all students present here today will participate in cleaning efforts tomorrow morning to ensure that they meet the absolute highest standards from here on out,” he says.
A simultaneous groan rolls through the dining hall. A stray “this is BULLSHIT” rings out from somewhere in the crowd. The dean puts his hand up and it ceases.
“This is the lesson. The actions of a few affects us all, so watch out for each other. If you see your friend about to make a poor choice, it is your responsibility to remind them of their responsibility to the team.”
He tosses one last glance toward the group of boys and the entire dining hall does the same, whispering amongst themselves. With that, the dean coolly walks out of the dining hall and as soon as he disappears outside the doors, the hall erupts in chatter.
“Preppy douchebags,” Alaska moans.
“It’s a bullshit rule though. They’re just trying to get us to police each other so they don’t have to.” Clark sighs and rubs his temples.
“But let’s be real, how many kids at a delinquent school are gonna snitch on each other?” Alaska says.
“There are plenty of people here that still want to keep their scholarships or whatever, any disciplinary action goes on your record and gets factored into your end-of-year review that gets sent to your next school. That’s enough to make plenty of people flip.”
I look over toward the three boys and see Bridget arguing with Warren. Frustrated, she gets up and walks away, and the boys immediately start laughing about something.
Well, that settles that. No sideways smiles should mess this up for me, not this time.
I
guess not everyone here is as willing to turn a blind eye as our Communications professor.
I’ll do good to keep that in mind.
Chapter Five
With classes finished for the day, I slowly head back to Mason House with Alaska. My head is swimming with the new course load, the incident at the dining hall, and Sterling’s teasing threat from yesterday still invading my thoughts.
“Well, I stand by this still being better than conversion camp,” Alaska says, doing a slow turn in a circle as she takes in the sprawling campus. “If the worst they can do is make me clean a gym floor at 6 a.m. and then move on with my life, I can handle that.”
“To be honest, I’ve never had a school ‘punishment’ before,” I tell her.
“Really, no detentions or anything?” She looks at me, shocked.
“Nope, nothing. The first time I got caught doing something wrong, they just packed me up and shipped me here.”
“Man, you must really be good at hiding your shit. I was in trouble all the time growing up,” Alaska muses.
I don’t correct her, don’t tell her I got caught the very first time I did something wrong. I don’t tell her I’m horrible at hiding things … because how would I know? I’ve never really tried.
We head inside Mason House and walk over to the sitting room rather than heading straight up to our room, even though I’m tired enough to fall face-first into bed and pass out on the spot. Bridget is here, reading a book in front of the fire … though I have no idea how she got here before us.
From the serene way she’s sitting, she looks like she’s been perched here for ages—not caught up in a stupid little incident with her brother that just got the entire school cleaning duties over the weekend.
She glances up as we sit down, a politely annoyed look on her face. It’s a look that Alaska doesn’t miss, her head turning to me to flash me one of her own. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, my hands stretching to drum on the ends of my knees until I can’t stand it anymore.
It’s pretty clear Alaska has nothing to say, so rather than allow us to sit in this uncomfortable quiet forever, I blurt out, “Crazy what the guys pulled today right?”
Bridget snaps her book the rest of the way shut and rolls her eyes with disgust. “So typical. Warren is always getting into trouble and one way or another I get dragged down with him.”
Just like I was worried.
“Like how?” Alaska pipes up.
“Doesn’t matter, point is, I’m officially sick of his bullshit affecting me,” Bridget says as she flips her book back open. “It’s his fault I’m here in the first place.”
Alaska shoots me a “see, I told you” glance.
“So that’s how you ended up here?” I ask. “Something he did?”
Bridget glances away for a moment, a bit of a guilty expression flitting across her face for a second. “No, I mean, not really. I missed most of senior year because my grandmother was sick and I needed to help take care of her. My teachers all said I could do the coursework at home, I just needed to come in for the exams. Well, final exams roll around and two days later my parents get a phone call and next thing I know they’re accusing me of cheating off of Warren.”
“Did you?” Alaska asks, shocking me with her candor.
I really thought the students here would be eager to keep their transgressions a secret, but I guess I was wrong. That’s only the parents.
I guess us delinquents really couldn’t care less.
Everyone except for me, anyway.
“No!” she exclaims, a little too quickly. She takes a moment to compose herself, crossing her legs beneath her. “But we’re twins for crying out loud, of course our answers are going to be the same! My parents found out that if we came here, we could take AP courses and be back on track for university next year, plus learn the error of our wicked ways. What a deal.”
Her voice is flat.
“Seems like a harsh punishment for something so small. Why not just have you re-take the test?” Alaska asks.
Bridget shrugs. “Tell me about it. Warren has been in his fair share of trouble so I guess they figured no harm in punishing both of us if it wasn’t out of the way.”
Bridget’s voice is cool and casual, but I can’t help notice a small shake in her hands as she holds the book.
Either she’s really upset about the whole situation … or maybe that isn’t the full story.
“Wow, that’s rough,” I say.
“Mmhmm. Oh, by the way, I heard someone left you a nasty note on your pillows yesterday Aubrey, any idea who did it?” Bridget asks.
I glance questioningly at Alaska who shakes her head.
Who the hell told her? I didn’t tell anyone …
“No, not a clue,” I say. “Seemed like a dumb prank.”
“Yeah, probably. Girls at this school can get really out of hand, I’d make sure you’re careful who you cross,” Bridget says, coolly.
I’m sorry, was that a threat?
I straighten up in my seat a bit, taking her in again. Was it Bridget? Was she the one who wrote the accusation “slut” on my pillow?
Strangely, I feel the slightest sense of relief at the thought.
It seems more likely it was a very mean-girl-esque prank putting me in my place coming from her, and less of a personal attack. She did seem fixated on the fact I was placed in Mason House to be kept away from the boys.
If it is her … maybe no one knows my secret after all.
All these thoughts flood my mind over the span of a couple seconds, but it’s long enough that Alaska, beside me, has to clear her throat and nudge me to stop me from staring at Bridget for too long.
Well, too much longer than I already have been.
“I’m exhausted, I’m gonna head back up to the room, you coming Aubrey?” Alaska quickly interjects, after a second.
I scramble up to my feet as fast as I can.
“Yeah, I’ll come with. Good to see you Bridget, thanks for looking out for me,” I say.
In trying to threaten me, she’d just reassured me. I can handle a mean girl. It’s a whole hell of a lot better than handling some kind of blackmailer.
“Bye.” Bridget waves her fingers cheekily as we leave the sitting room.
Alaska and I head up to the room, neither of us saying a word till we’re behind the closed door. Alaska plops down on her bed.
“So, that was super weird,” she says, her eyes tracing lines across the ceiling.
I glance over at her once from where I’m hanging my blazer in the wardrobe. “Sure, the part about …”
It’s her turn to shoot me a look. “The cheating story, of course,” she says.
The momentary lump disappears from my throat. Of course, that’s what she’s talking about.
She probably didn’t even notice Bridget’s threat. She’s not the one who had a slur slung across her pillow, after all. She probably hasn’t even thought about it once since.
Alaska nods again and goes back to glaring up at the ceiling as if it’s personally offended her.
“I don’t buy the cheating story. Who misses an entire year of high school to take care of their grandma when their parents are loaded? And reform school for one test? Seems like bullshit to me,” Alaska says.
“Maybe, but I mean, my parents would have lost it if I cheated,” I say.
Why am I defending her? It’s not like she’s done anything for me other than show me to my room … and possibly break back into my room and leave a damning message scrawled across my pillows.
To be honest, the more I think about it … the more I wonder if it really was her.
She might be catty, but … but it just seems beneath her, somehow. If she has a secret too, then the last thing she’d want to do is go stirring up trouble, right?
“Still,” Alaska continues, “I don’t buy that her brother is the reason she’s always gotten in trouble. I’m sure she’s more than capable of creating her own trouble.”
> I hum in agreement, my mind still racing in an entirely different direction.
“Yeah, I guess we all are really,” I say as I flop down onto the bed. I stare up at the cracked ceiling myself, red letters dancing across my mind.
“AUBREY GET UP.” Alaska’s voice rips into my consciousness. The room fades in and out as I shake off the blur. I look down, and I’m surprised to find myself still dressed in my uniform, even down to my shoes. It’s dark outside, the only light in the room coming from the lamp in the corner.
“What happened?” I ask, groggily.
“You passed out as we were talking last night, I figured you’d wake up in a few hours but you slept through the night. Come on, we gotta go clean the gym.” Alaska’s voice is tired and raspy. “Don’t make this a regular thing, okay? The last thing I want is to become your alarm clock.”
“Ugh, sorry about that, do I have time to shower?” I ask.
“No, we gotta go, just throw a fresh uniform on, hopefully you’ll have time to shower before class.”
She throws open the doors to my wardrobe and tosses me a crumpled handful of clothes.
I quickly strip and pull on the new uniform, sweeping my hair into a ponytail before Alaska and I stumble out onto the damp, dark quad and head toward the gymnasium.
The gym is a large building in the center of the campus and when we arrive there’s a sizeable group of bleary-eyed students clustered outside the doors. I spot Sterling, Chase, and Warren all huddled together at the front, fists stuff into their jacket pockets.
I try to look away before they notice me, but I’m too late.
I’ve been spotted—by none other than Sterling. And from the way he immediately starts heading in our direction, I’m not going to be as lucky as I was yesterday.
He’s not going to leave me alone.
“Morning Aubrey. Nothing like rising to greet the day, right?” he asks, grinning a Cheshire Cat grin at me.
I just glare back.
“Do you not feel like, even a little bit guilty that we’re all here because of you, Chase, and Warren?” I ask, the early morning still thick in my voice.