Night School: Legacy

by C. J. Daugherty

  His reply was equally stealthy. ‘Not sure.’ At the landing they glanced back – Jerry was still there.

  As they separated to head to their respective dorms, Sylvain caught her eye, arching one expressive eyebrow; she responded with a tiny bewildered shrug.

  They both nearly smiled.

  Amid all that was happening, Allie still worried about Jo. Two weeks after Truth or Dare she was keeping Allie at arm’s length, and the schism left Allie feeling lonelier than ever. She was determined to fix it – not just for herself but for Jo.

  Much as the idea of the ball frightened Allie, she imagined it must be worse for Jo.

  So she decided to do something about it. After supper the next day, she tracked Jo down in the library where she studied alone at a table, her short blonde hair backlit into a halo by the glow from the brass desk lamp.

  ‘Hey,’ Allie whispered to a student nearby, ‘can I borrow a piece of paper?’

  Looking thrilled that she’d spoken to him, he handed her a sheet.

  ‘And a pen.’ Allie gestured impatiently.

  Without a hint of hesitation he handed her the one he was using and waited as she scrawled out a quick note.

  J

  Come and talk to me outside. PLEASE. I miss you.

  I’m sorry.

  Ax

  ‘Thanks,’ she told the star-struck student, handing him back his pen. ‘Do me a favour. Go and hand this note to that girl.’

  As she pointed at Jo he leapt to his feet so quickly he nearly knocked his chair over.

  ‘Steady.’ Allie arched one eyebrow. ‘Nobody needs to get hurt here.’

  Then she hurried out of the room and waited in the hallway, chewing on her thumbnail.

  But when Jo still hadn’t appeared ten minutes later, Allie’s heart sank.

  She’s not going to do it. She’ll never forgive me.

  Her head dropped to her chest, and she leaned back against the wall, propping one foot up behind her.

  ‘Posture fail.’ Jo’s cut glass accent was so familiar, Allie smiled at her shoes. This sounded like old Jo. Sane Jo.

  ‘You came.’

  Crossing her arms across her chest, Jo scowled at her, but for the first time in weeks Allie saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

  ‘I wanted to hear your grovelling apology.’

  ‘It was all my fault,’ Allie said. ‘I’m an idiot. You should refuse to be my friend and become very good friends with evil Katie instead. She deserves you more than I do.’

  Jo fought to keep a straight face. ‘That’s an excellent start. Please continue.’

  ‘If I told anybody, I should have told you. It was insane of me not to, and I promise,’ Allie held up her right hand as if she were swearing in court, ‘that I will never keep an important secret from you again.’

  Jo dimpled at her. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’

  ‘Will you please, please, please forgive me?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ Jo said. ‘I’m not a monster.’

  ‘Thank God.’ Allie launched herself at her, pulling her into a hug. ‘I couldn’t have taken it much longer.’

  ‘It is hard to live without me,’ Jo agreed. ‘I missed you, too. But no more secrets, OK? Tell me things. I’m not going to, you know, go mad up on the roof with a bottle of vodka or anything.’

  ‘Like that’d ever happen,’ Allie agreed.

  *

  In Training Room One, a rota for student patrols had been posted on the wall. They were working in shifts, alongside Raj’s hired security guards. When they weren’t out on patrol, they were trained relentlessly. The lessons were intense but practical: how to escape; how to raise an alarm; when to stay together and when to divide; how to fight someone with knife; or a gun.

  Allie was asked to demonstrate the move she’d used to stab Gabe with a stake. One night all the Night School students dispersed in the woods trying to find a sharp stick like the one she’d described, which they could use as a weapon.

  Even with all of that, her sense of unease hadn’t lessened, and each night she focused intently on the training – she knew better than almost anyone how important these skills could be.

  The night of Allie and Zoe’s first patrolling shift, they were so nervous they both showed up early for their nine o’clock shift, arriving at the changing room to find their patrolling gear hanging from hooks on one wall. It was bitterly cold out, so the clothes left for them were black thermal leggings and tunics, black silk long underwear for additional warmth. Black hats and gloves. Black running shoes.

  As she changed into the unfamiliar clothes in front of a full-length mirror, Allie studied the changes all the exercise had made to her body. The muscles in her upper arms and shoulders were defined. Her stomach was taut and flat. Her leg muscles had always been long and lean from running, now her upper body matched it.

  I don’t even look like me any more.

  Ten minutes before their shift was due to begin, angry voices rang out from a room across the hall. She leaned closer to the door until she could make them out.

  One of the voices was Jerry Cole’s. The other belonged to Carter.

  Humming to herself in a changing cubicle, Zoe didn’t notice as Allie slipped out the door.

  In the narrow basement hallway, she could hear the heated discussion clearly.

  ‘They aren’t trained enough.’ Carter’s voice was sharp. ‘I think this is unacceptable. I can’t believe Isabelle’s allowing it. They shouldn’t be out there on their own.’

  ‘This is Zoe’s second year in Night School,’ Jerry replied. ‘She’s as highly trained as you.’

  ‘But she’s physically small.’ Carter sounded as if he thought the science teacher was being intentionally obtuse. ‘Just look at her. Her head barely comes to my chin. And Allie’s only been training a few months. No other Neos are going out. I just don’t think they should be out there alone. They should be with a more experienced student.’

  Leaning back against the dressing room door, Allie stared unseeing at tiles on the floor as she listened. She could tell that Jerry was trying to calm him down.

  ‘Carter, I’m sure that they’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘They’ll always be given the earliest shift, and they have to check in every hour. We’ll keep a close watch on them.’

  The door swung open so quickly Allie didn’t have time to react – Carter stood in the doorway, his back to her, still arguing with Jerry. He hadn’t seen her.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I think it’s dangerous. If one of them gets hurt …’

  As he spoke, Allie scrabbled at the door behind her, finally finding the doorknob and diving back into the changing room just as he turned around.

  Standing behind the closed door, she closed her eyes for a second as she steadied her breathing. Heat rose in her face.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Across the room, dressed all in black, Zoe was watching her quizzically. ‘You look strange.’

  ‘Nothing.’

  With a shrug, Zoe turned back to the mirror.

  The overheard conversation bothered Allie as she finished getting ready. Carter hadn’t given her a clue that he was worried about what was happening. He’d acted as if he hated her. The fact that he was still trying to protect her made everything harder.

  Yanking on a hat, she stared into her sober grey eyes in the mirror as she argued with herself. Because, wasn’t this just another example of his suffocating overprotectiveness? ‘They aren’t trained enough … They shouldn’t be out there on their own.’

  Her eyes darkened. He doesn’t believe in me. He never believes in me.

  A few minutes later, she and Zoe stood in front of the school building, looking out into the dark night.

  ‘You ready for this, partner?’ Allie asked.

  ‘I am so ready.’ Zoe’s reply was fervent.

  I hope you’re right, Allie thought. But all she said was, ‘Let’s do it.’

  They followed the path assigned to them by the sec
urity guards, their feet crunching on the icy ground. Their breath froze in the air like puffs of smoke as they ran into the dark forest, where the moonlight disappeared. It was a still night – no wind stirred the treetops. Their footsteps were the only sound. As their training dictated, they ran in silence.

  Their first check was the fence, which they followed to the main gate, looking for signs that anybody had tried to get over, under or through. But everything was just as it should be. The fence seemed solid and impregnable. The gate was locked tight.

  From there they ran through the woods to the stream. As they neared the place where Allie had met Christopher, she felt her heart speed up, but the stream ran by them innocently and empty. There were no footprints in the mud – nobody had been down there in a while.

  The churchyard gate squawked unhappily as they passed through it on their way to check the chapel – it, too, was closed up tight. No flitting shadows to scare them. No flickering lights inside.

  Each hour they met with one of Raj’s security guards near a side door to the school building to check in, and each hour they reported nothing.

  They were hurrying back to make their last report when something moved just off the path. ‘Did you see that?’ Allie whispered, pointing.

  They skidded to a stop.

  At first, all was still. Then the dried bracken began to sway, as if something behind it moved.

  ‘What is it?’ Zoe spoke so quietly Allie could almost not hear her. She shook her head.

  When the thing moved again, she gestured for Zoe to approach from the left. She circled around to come at it from the right.

  Lowering themselves to a crouch, they moved as quietly as possible but the brush beside the path was dry and brittle, and it crunched with every step. To Allie, the sound seemed deafening.

  The thing must have heard it, too, because it quit moving.

  For a long moment Allie and Zoe stood very still, each trying to see what was hidden in the darkness. Then, out of nowhere, a strange snuffling sound – almost a snort – made them both jump. Zoe’s eyes widened. When the sound came again, her lips quirked up in sudden amused recognition.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘I know what it is.’

  No longer trying to hide herself, she stalked over to the dried ferns and pushed them aside. Allie hurried to her side, arriving just in time to see a small, spiky creature curl up into a ball and cover its eyes.

  ‘Oh! A hedgehog,’ she cooed. ‘I’ve never seen one before in person. It’s adorable.’

  ‘You can touch it,’ Zoe said. ‘It won’t bite.’

  Lowering her hand, Allie brushed one finger lightly over the hard shell-like spikes. At her touch, the hedgehog quivered and tightened its curl.

  ‘It’s scared,’ Allie whispered. ‘We should leave it alone.’

  ‘Sorry, Mr Hedgehog.’ Zoe moved the dried ferns back into place. ‘We didn’t mean to spook you.’ As they tiptoed away, it snuffled to itself consolingly.

  And so their night went.

  Whatever he might have expected, Carter’s fears proved to be unfounded. They encountered nothing more frightening than the hedgehog while patrolling.

  Each night after that was the same: no Nathaniel, no Christopher.

  Nothing at all.

  In the days before the ball, the mood at the school changed markedly. Most students had already turned in their final papers and essays for the term so classes, which up until then had been frenetic with last-minute work, took on a relaxed atmosphere. Even so, when the students walked into English class they were stunned to see a television in a corner.

  As she followed the others into the room, Allie’s jaw dropped when she saw what they were all looking at. With technology forbidden at Cimmeria, the sight of even an old box-shaped TV filled them all with excitement and something like wonder.

  Watching their reactions from across the room, Isabelle seemed positively gleeful.

  ‘I thought for a bit of a treat we could watch a film,’ she said, laughing as they broke into raucous applause. ‘It’s a film version of a book we read earlier this term – The Age of Innocence – so don’t get too excited. It’s not exactly MTV.’

  Zoe was practically jumping out of her seat with joy, and Allie laughed at her reaction. Then, as always, her gaze floated to Carter, who sat as far away from her as possible. Talking to a friend next to him, he looked as if he were trying to summon a smile and failing.

  Sliding down in her chair, she dropped her eyes to her notebook as all the excitement fizzled out. Just looking at Carter made her feel awful, every time.

  When Isabelle turned down the lights and switched the television on the students fell into instant silence, gazing at the glowing screen, rapt.

  ‘I’ve missed this so much,’ someone whispered.

  Though the film was slow and the story complicated, the technology-starved class became engrossed in the tale of a young man who marries the wrong woman. Although her own worries and fears were whirling in her mind, after a few minutes, Allie found herself lost in the story, willing Newland Archer to run off with Ellen.

  When Ellen asked him, ‘How can we be happy behind the backs of people who trust us?’ Allie unconsciously covered her mouth with her fingers.

  Sensing someone watching her, she glanced up. Across the darkened room, she caught Sylvain’s gaze, the flickering lights of the screen reflected in his blue eyes. For a long moment their eyes locked. The confused emotions coursing through Allie’s body were like nothing she’d ever felt before. She was drawn to him, angry at him, longing for him … all at once. She felt as if they were speaking to each other through that one long look. Communicating things they didn’t dare say aloud.

  Finally, she couldn’t bear the tension and forced herself to turn back to the film. Only then did she notice her hands had been clenched so tight her nails had dug pale crescents into her palms.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The day of the ball dawned clear and cold. With snow forecast for later, nobody knew whether to be more excited about the dance with its array of international political leaders and corporate billionaires, or the mass snowball fight that would inevitably follow any snowstorm.

  Students were free from classes and many of them spent the time packing, as most were leaving for Christmas break the next day. Allie had no reason to pack. She and Rachel were staying at the school until Christmas Eve, and then only spending a few days at Rachel’s house before returning to Cimmeria. Allie’s parents had agreed with Isabelle that London for Christmas wasn’t really possible this year. Not after what happened in August.

  Downstairs, a giant Christmas tree had been installed in the entrance hall, while a smaller tree stood in the common room near the piano, draped in red and gold fairy lights and so weighed down with baubles it looked buried. The whole building smelled of pine and cinnamon. Students played Christmas carols on the piano in the common room. But Allie, who felt not even slightly festive, had so far ignored the impending holiday. No cut-out snowflakes or baubles hung in her room.

  Her main goal right now was to meet Lucinda – to ask her all the questions she’d been longing to ask.

  Her other goal was to stay alive.

  She still believed Nathaniel would try something during the ball, and she wasn’t convinced they were ready for it.

  But there was no way to stop the ball from happening. And when she knocked at Jo’s room that afternoon, holding her dress in her arms, Allie was determined to put on a festive face for her. If Jo knew she was worried, she’d be worried, too. And that was rarely a good thing.

  In stark contrast to Allie’s room, Jo’s embraced the ethos of the holidays in a borderline fanatical fashion. An LED Christmas tree glowed on the desk, fairy lights were draped across the bookcase, and a glossy gold ribbon had been wrapped around the chair and tied into a gigantic bow. From his perch on a bed pillow, a stuffed Santa Claus surveyed the room doubtfully.

  ‘I think,’ Jo said, ‘we should do someth
ing special for the ball.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ Allie hung her dress from a hook on the back of Jo’s door and dropped casually on to her bed next to Santa.

  Reaching into the wardrobe, Jo produced two small boxes and held them up. ‘Since neither of us has a date, which in my case is unprecedented, I think we should look particularly amazing tonight,’ Jo said. ‘Let’s show everyone what they’re missing.’

  She tossed one box to Allie.

  As she turned it over in her hands, a broad grin spread across Allie’s face. ‘You’re a genius.’

  ‘I know.’ Jo grabbed two towels. ‘I loved your hair when you first came here. It inspired me. Come on. You and me. Loos. Now.’

  Ignoring the curious stares from two girls standing at the sinks, they ducked into a shower cubicle together, giggling.

  Without ceremony, Jo took off her top and draped a towel across her shoulders. Allie did the same.

  Jo pulled on rubber gloves with a loud snap and shook a plastic bottle in one hand. ‘I think I should do yours and then you do mine. It’s hard to do your own.’

  Allie leaned over as Jo streamed purplish goo on to her hair, working it in with the rubber gloves.

  Allie shivered deliciously. ‘I love someone else doing things to my hair.’

  ‘I know. It’s like a headgasm.’

  ‘Where did you get this stuff?’ Allie asked.

  Working on the back of Allie’s head, Jo said, ‘My brother’s girlfriend sent it to me. I called her last week.’

  The room smelled so strongly of chemicals Allie’s eyes watered. ‘You were planning this all the time?’

  ‘After we made up, it just came to me.’ Jo squished the goo through to the ends of Allie’s hair with a satisfying squelch. ‘Like a vision.’

  One hour and two ruined towels later, the job was done. Back in Jo’s room they admired their handiwork.

  Hanging in wet strands below her shoulder blades, Allie’s hair was vivid, almost metallic red. Jo’s short blonde locks were now shiny pink.

  Dimpling prettily, Jo shook her damp locks. ‘I look like a pixie.’