The Nightingale Files : The Rook and Queen

by Megan Meredith

  As I turned in my article to Mr. Knight, I stood at his desk while the other students filed out. Nate was gathering his things rather slowly and keeping an eye on me, I could tell. With my back to him, I whispered, “It’s all happening at seven tonight. I don’t expect you to come. I just wanted you to know. We even have someone possibly willing to come forward and testify.”

  Mr. Knight nodded silently and went back to looking at my paper so he wouldn’t look conspicuous. Nate followed me out and loudly crutched after me all the way to the room where detention was held. I passed the door and headed toward Ms. Midler’s office. She was waiting for me by the door.

  “Quickly, now. We both need to get to detention. I just needed to speak with you.”

  I sat down on the edge of the seat, not intending to settle in.

  “I’ve heard pieces of conversations from several students about a certain incident involving you and Ace Wentworth last year. And also some rumors about this year. I just wanted to let you know that there are certain areas of the school that a under surveillance for your safety,” she said cryptically.

  “Cameras.”

  She nodded.

  I tapped my fingers thoughtfully on my knee. “How would one go about getting footage?”

  “School regulation is that footage can be released with a police-issued warrant,” she said, folding up her cardigan sleeves, which revealed the edges of tattoos. “Now, off we go. We both have detention waiting.”

  I stood to follow her out, but I needed to let me parents know about my detention. I pulled out my phone as Ms. Midler and I walked toward the designated room. I stopped just outside the door to call Dad.

  “Hey, Dad. I have detention. Just wanted to let you know I’d be late.”

  “Avery Brave—my word! Why on earth do you have detention?”

  “Ms. Midler caught Nate and me yelling at each other in the hallway during class.”

  “Okay…well, you can explain that one to me later. How late will you be?”

  “Just an hour. Everything is still a go for seven.”

  “Okay. See you then.”

  “Bye, Dad.”

  “Don’t yell at anyone else.”

  “No promises,” I said jokingly and then ending the call.

  I chose a seat as far away from Nate as I could get. He noticed and shook his head. Yes, I was being childish again, but my Father had told me not to yell at anyone else. I figured the only way I wouldn’t yell at Nate Reinhart would be to get as far away as possible.

  “Ms. Midler,” Nate spoke up, “I forgot my notes from newspaper in my locker. Can I go get them?”

  Ms. Midler eyed him skeptically and then looked at me. “Ms. Nightingale, aren’t you two writing partners this semester? Can you help Mr. Reinhart out with his notes?”

  “I don’t think that is wise. Considering he’s the reason I’m here,” I protested.

  “Mr. Reinhart, why don’t you go sit by Ms. Nightingale and share her notes?” Ms. Midler sighed, sounding exhausted.

  Nate tried hard not smile as he gathered his stuff and hopped over to the desk next to mine. I glared at him as he slid down into it.

  “Nice. Really smooth, Reinhart.” I fired my words at him like whispering arrows.

  “What’s going on at seven?”

  “Wha—?” How could he know? “What do mean?”

  He leaned across the space between our desks as if he was looking at my notes. “I heard you on the phone just now, and I heard you and Sylvie in the bathroom.”

  “You were listening to our conversation in the bathroom?” I retorted, offended.

  “What? You do it all the time! I was just taking a lesson from you.”

  I threw my head back and rolled my eyes. He had a point, which made me even more irritated.

  “So…what’s happening at seven?”

  When I looked back at him, he was closer to my desk than I anticipated, and our faces were a pencil’s length away from each other. My breath caught. I could smell the soap from the locker room and the mint on his tongue. His eyes were fixed on mine, and, for the first time, I realized they looked like fading denim.

  For a moment, I was mesmerized and forgot to be mean. I saw the light freckles just under his eyes, invisible until I was this close. His thick eyes brows weren’t nearly as expressive as Felix’s, but they were currently stretching and reaching for his forehead in surprise at me. Because I was staring. He was staring, and I was staring.

  “I don’t trust you enough to tell you,” I whispered.

  “What do I have to do to make you believe that I didn’t tell Sylvie? I told you that I don’t talk to Sylvie.”

  “You were talking to her in the hall—with Ace, no less,” I said bitingly.

  His eyes suddenly switched from staring at me pensively to defensive. “That was about something else entirely. And if you must know…” He paused.

  “Yes! I must know.”

  He glared at me in annoyance. “The water boy was in on their original blackmail plan. He was trying to get the list as well. He saw you in the field house that night. He’s the one that told Sylvie. Not me.”

  I blinked and shuffled my feet under the desk uncomfortably. It sounded plausible. But how could I know he was telling the truth? He could easily make that up. Sylvie could have told him about tonight. It could all just be a game. How could I trust him?

  My Father was right; I was suspicious all the time. Did I have reason to be? Sure. But did I wish I could trust him and let him go on looking at me this way? Sure.

  “Maybe that is the truth, maybe it’s not. You want to know what you have to do to make me believe you? You’ll have to get me proof.”

  We had been talking so low that we hadn’t seen Ace walk into the room, but he lorded over Nate’s desk now. My eyes flew to the teacher. She was grading papers and apparently had not seen him enter so stealthily.

  “I thought I told you to stay away, Ace,” Nate said flatly, though I thought it best he not speak at all. I found my body moving slowly out of my desk and away from them, towards the corner.

  Ace’s two hands grabbed Nate’s shirt collar and yanked him out of his seat. “If anyone needs to stay away from her, Reinhart, it’s you!”

  Ace and Nate toppled to the floor, bringing books and desks with them. Nate struggled against Ace, and Ace struck blows at the sides of Nate’s ribs.

  “Get off me, man!” Nate shouted breathlessly as he rolled with Ace.

  “Stay away from her!”

  “She’s not yours!”

  I felt like the fight slowed and was suddenly moving slow motion. Nate shoved Ace off of him, and Ace hit his back on the desk where Ms. Midler sat, causing her to jump up, shriek, and grab her walkie-talkie to call for help. Ace lunged at Nate again. They were fighting over me? Is Nate fighting Ace right now? If they were planning something together, they wouldn’t fight over me. Would they?

  But my thoughts were cut short, and I covered my ears as Ms. Midler blew what sounded like a foghorn.

  “Everyone out. Detention is dismissed. Except Mr. Wentworth and Mr. Reinhart. You two will be staying.”

  I scrambled to grab my books and my backpack and hurried from the room. Weirdest detention ever. I caught Nate’s eye just before I filed out of the room with the other kids. His expression was one I’d never seen.

  Of course, Mother had insisted on having snacks. So, there were brownies, chips and dip, and trail mix all spread out on the table as we sat around it. Felix sat there snacking and talking to Carol, who had her own digital place at the table, while Sylvie sat silently next to me, picking at her cheer uniform.

  My Mother and Father waited in anticipation for me to call our secret meeting to order. We were originally supposed to only be five, but now, with Sylvie, we had six. And that was even better. It was ten after seven, and before we began, I wanted to test Sylvie once more.

  “Sylvie, can you help me get some drinks from the cooler in the garage?”


  “Uh, sure,” she said awkwardly as everyone watched us rise from the table and leave.

  As we walked out into the garage, I flicked the light switch on and stopped.

  “Sylvie, why the change of heart?”

  “What is this, some sort of intervention?”

  I laughed. “No. I can see why you thought that, with the snacks and all…,” I said sarcastically, “but no. It’s something else entirely. But I need to be sure of you before you are privy to that information.”

  “Sure of me? Privy? Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?”

  “Hardly. That man was a brilliant literary work of fiction.

  “Whatever. I’m here because you told me to be here. And I came to you because you told me to, when I was done being—you know.”

  “And?”

  “What else do you want me to say, Avery Brave?!” she demanded in a shaky voice.

  “I want to know whose thumbs you were under and why.”

  Sylvie burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. “At first, it was just Ace. He could practically hang me with what he had on me.” She sobbed and hiccupped. I put my hand on her shoulder as she continued, feeling slightly guilty for pushing her. “As if going through it wasn’t traumatic enough…then, it was Hickham for what I had on my phone, and then Hickham again for what we’d recorded at the party.”

  There it was. She was guilty on all three counts for indiscretions that Saints Academy would surely crucify her for. Metaphorically, of course. But along with her crimes was the proof to take down not just Mr. Hickham but Ace Wentworth.

  I hesitated before deciding to hug her. I chose a side hug, though it felt just as awkward as I thought a full hug would have.

  “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “None of this is okay. And I know we’re not good friends, but I am sorry that this has been happening to you.”

  I knew it was a technicality to call someone an acquaintance versus a friend or even a good friend, but I decided to let it go for the sake of the cause.

  Sylvie hiccupped again and looked at me. “Do you think God will forgive me for what I’ve done?”

  My heart broke open for a girl I could barely tolerate most any other day. But today, standing in my garage, I knew we weren’t that different. We were a few choices away from being quite similar, actually.

  “I know for a fact that he will.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it. So, I added, “He already has, and he always will. He kinda can’t not forgive you.” I patted her arm. “I know you know that, but I get it that it’s hard to believe sometimes when all the shame shouts louder.”

  Sylvie lifted her head enough to wipe her nose on her uniform, which was gross, but I couldn’t blame her…we were in a garage.

  “I don’t think you did that right,” she said, which made me laugh a little and think of Felix, who was in my kitchen with my parents and Carol. I hoped they were okay. “But I think I know what you mean,” she finished.

  It was a do or die moment, and I took a deep breath. “Sylvie, the reason that we’re here tonight…I mean, the reason I asked you to come tonight is because we’re going to call the authorities, the media, and whoever we think needs to know. We’re hoping this is the proper way to bring Mr. Hickham and Ace Wentworth to justice.”

  “And you want me to tell them?”

  “Only if you are up for it. We’re all doing it anonymously. Just reporting it and letting them investigate and break the story, you know. You can tell your side if you want, but I know you’re worried about it ruining your future.”

  “You know, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Let me guess, overheard in the bathroom?”

  I shrugged. I thought about Nate rolling on the floor with Ace. If he was willing to fight for me, then the least I could do was not out him as my source. Even if I was still upset with him.

  “Then I bet you heard all that stuff about me and Ace and you and Ace and you and Nate.”

  “There is no me and Ace,” I jumped in, a little too eager.

  “Well, I’m sorry I said all that. I was just jealous. I hate what I did to Nate. And I hate the power Ace has over me.” She paused, looking hesitant to say more. “And, for the record, I’m sorry about what happened to you last year. I hate the way everyone treated you. You’re doing the right thing tonight for people who didn’t do the right thing for you last year.”

  I felt myself flush but kept my face impassive. “It’s okay,” I said, shrugging again. Hearing the words I’d wanted someone to say for a whole year come out of Sylvie’s mouth was bittersweet. “Come on. It’s time.”

  We walked back to kitchen and rejoined the table; the group was currently engaged in an intellectual debate—which was better, the original Lone Ranger or the remake.

  “Guys—it’s time,” I interjected. They all quieted and pulled out their phones. “Should we pray first?” I asked, but before anyone could answer, the doorbell rang.

  “Did you invite anyone else?” My father asked with slight concern.

  “No…,” I said, letting the word trail off as I walked toward the front door. I opened the door cautiously, silently praying it wasn’t Ace or Mr. Hickham.

  Nate stood before me, out of breath and with a swollen right jaw. He held a briefcase out to me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Proof,” he said in between his panting breaths.

  “Did you run here? And proof of what?”

  “You said…” He took in a huge breath and let it out slowly. “You said I had to get you proof for you to believe me. To know what side I’m on. Here’s your proof.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s Hickham’s briefcase.”

  “What?!” I said too loud. Everyone came running into the foyer; Felix even held Carol on the iPad.

  “What’s going on?” Nate looked at everyone, bewildered that they were all here, especially Sylvie. “I mean, I guess I did come around seven, but what’s happening?”

  “We’re tipping off the police. Want to join us?” Felix answered before I had a chance.

  “Hold on!” I raised my voice. “This wasn’t in the plan. This is a major kink. We all need to talk in the kitchen.” I pulled Nate inside by his shirt sleeve. He brought me proof. He brought me the proof we needed. He brought me proof.

  I wanted to hug him. I wanted to pull him out into the garage like I had Sylvie and make him tell me everything. And hug him. But there wasn’t time for that.

  We gathered around the table again, and everyone was looking to me. I felt stunned and blank, so I took a brownie and shoved it in my mouth. Felix followed suit, I assume just so I didn’t look like an idiot.

  “What’s the kink, dear?” Dad started. “Is it just that you didn’t expect this boy to be here?”

  “Sorry! This is Nate. Nate, these are my parents, and Carol’s on the iPad. You know Felix and Sylvie…”

  Nate nodded and smiled an embarrassed smile. He even brought me proof, and Sylvie is here. Not that he knew she would be but still. He’s bold. He has been loyal this whole time when I questioned him at every turn. I thought back to the dance and to detention, when his face had been close enough to smell. My face was growing pink up the sides; I could feel it.

  “No, Nate has brought me—us—the briefcase that supposedly contains the confiscated phones. How did you get this?” I said, turning to Nate, who towered behind me.

  He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Once they figured out that I had nothing to do with instigating the fight today, they let me go and walked Ace up to the principal’s office. I went back to the locker room to get my bag, and Mr. Hickham’s briefcase was just sitting on the desk. So, I grabbed it before I even thought about it.”

  My mother chimed in in a rather squeamish voice, “Isn’t that stealing, dear?” She gave me a look. “I thought we were going to do this the proper way?”

  “I know. That’s the kink,” I announced. “We were just goin
g to call anonymously, not to have any proof. They had to do the finding. I even found out the school has footage. We could show Ace violating his restraining order, assaulting Nate, Hickham’s dealings…we would have had proof of everything. But they were supposed to find. We weren’t supposed to deliver it. So, no what?”

  Nate leaned over behind me and whispered into my hair, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really thinking. I just wanted to get you proof.”

  “Sorry. Talk amongst yourselves. Excuse me,” I said as I tugged on Nate’s sleeve to follow me back into the foyer. I scolded him in a whisper. “Don’t apologize. I’m not mad. Just confused. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I have a plan!” Sylvie yelled from the kitchen. We re-entered the room with surprise.

  “We’ll all call, as planned. But part of our tip is that we have a witness who will come forward with the proof they need as long as they can meet some conditions.”

  “But we don’t,” I stated the seemingly obvious.

  “Yes, we do,” she said. She let her words hang in the air. “I will take the briefcase to the station and give my full report.”

  I knew my eyes were wide, but they didn’t match the size of Nate’s.

  “Sylvie? You would do that? What about—”

  She didn’t let me finish. “I know. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. But in light of the rest of the trouble I’ll be in, a little slap on the wrist for stealing the briefcase won’t matter. I wouldn’t want anyone else to get into trouble over this,” she said, looking to Nate, which I felt oddly uncomfortable about. “Let’s just pray that they investigate and report without divulging what is on the phones. Maybe I can testify if they promise to meet our conditions.”

  “Dear, that is very brave,” my father said. “We will support you however we can in the aftermath.”

  There as a moment of silent pause as we all started to see Sylvie and her struggle in a new light.

  “Okay, then,” I said, sitting down. “It’s time. Let’s go over the facts once more. We have a key witness willing to testify that Mr. Hickham has been blackmailing students, forcing them to pay him to keep the contents of these phones secret, among other inappropriate actions by Mr. Hickham. Everyone on board with that?”