The Nightingale Files : The Rook and Queen

by Megan Meredith

  Everyone nodded. Nate sat down at the end of the table by Felix, and I tried not to read anything into it. We all took out our phones and dialed. Some of us called the newspaper, some of us called the news station, some of us called the police.

  It was done.

  I laid on my bed thinking about the inevitable aftermath of the afternoon’s events. Our school would be rocked. Sylvie’s parents would learn the truth and most likely be devastated. Ace would be in the news once again. And, with any sort of providence, the police would find video proof and finally send him to jail. And every person on the list would be free of the hold that Mr. Hickham had on them.

  As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about Nate bringing me the proof I had told him I required in order to believe him. He stole Hickham’s briefcase to show me that I could believe him. And, while stealing shouldn’t really be a proof of honesty, today, it felt like it was. He’d brought me pie once and now a stolen briefcase. I didn’t quite know what it all meant, but I suppose it meant that I believed him.

  The next morning, I had seventeen text messages. Sylvie was freaking out and didn’t want to wait until after school to go to the police, like we’d agreed on. She wanted to go first thing in the morning before she lost her nerve or before Ace could get to her. And she wanted me to drive her there. She would call her parents after it was all done to have them come get her and, of course, explain. She thought it better to do it after than before because they might try to stop her. All of this via text message before 6:30 in the morning!

  I got my breakfast to go and explained everything to Mom and Dad on my way out the door. They told me they would pray and asked me to check in after the station. I picked Sylvie up outside the gate of her house. She looked a little nauseated.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah, but ramped up. This is big. Right?”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty darn big,” I confirmed. “But you know it’s what is right, right?”

  “Yeah, sure. I just feel like I’m giving up my whole future. But then again, I guess I sabotaged that a while back, didn’t I?”

  We were silent the rest of the way to the station, which was about a ten-minute drive from Sylvie’s house. She suddenly turned to face me and told me to pull over.

  “Are you going to vomit?”

  “No, just pull over.”

  I eased the car into a parking lot and put it park. “What’s the matter, Sylvie? Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No!” she insisted a little too harshly. “I just need you to know what’s on the phones before I do it.”

  “No—I don’t—I think its best—,” I stammered. “I don’t need to know, Sylvie. It’s none of my business. I’m doing this because what Ace and Mr. Hickham have done to you is wrong. Beyond that, I can’t be anyone’s judge. Heaven knows all the questionable things I’ve done.”

  “But that’s the thing. The thing that Mr. Hickham will do anything to keep quiet is something that happened at his house. At the party.”

  “I know, I heard. But I don’t really want or think I need to know details. I just want the police to find out. Not me.”

  “It’s about Ace.”

  I laughed through my nose is a bitter way. “I’m not surprised. What did he do this time?”

  “It wasn’t what he did. It’s what Mr. Hickham did to him.”

  My mind felt like it tripped over her words and was sprawled out on my skull wondering what she meant. I couldn’t even piece her words back together to make sense of them or what she was saying that she wasn’t saying.

  “Nothing like that happened,” she clarified quickly, and I suppose the shock and horror on my face showed even though my mind couldn’t think clearly enough to tell it what to express. “Some of us just caught Hickham coming on to Ace. Like big time. We all caught it on video. Hickham was drunk. Very drunk. They both were.”

  I pretended to push rewind. “Hold on. Let me make sure I have this straight. Hickham comes on to Ace at the party. You guys video. Hickham finds out that it’s videoed and starts to confiscate the phones, blackmailing you guys to pay him so that he doesn’t release the other questionable material he knew was on your phones? Which is honestly just a sad ironic byproduct of his plan. He probably came up with that after he starting to gather the phones, realizing he had several ways to shut you up.”

  I put my hands on my forehead as if trying to keep all the information in.

  “I guess my only hang-up is Ace. Why didn’t he just come forward and tell someone? Hickham would have gotten fired so fast last year, no one would have even seen it coming.”

  Sylvie folded and refolded the hem of her skirt. “Hickham vouched for Ace when he was accused of—well, you know. So, Ace always figured, if he ratted on Hickham, last year would come back to haunt him. And then the baby thing. He just found a way to control everyone. He always wants to have the upper hand.”

  I was the one who felt like vomiting now. Hickham had helped? What kind of monster—? Never mind, I don’t even need to think about that. He was the type of person who would help a student get out of taking responsibility for his actions, and he was the type of person who would try to take advantage of a student.

  As much as I wanted justice for Hickham and Ace, I felt an odd sense of regret. Was what we were about to do going to ruin lives, make more enemies, and sabotage the rest of high school? I looked at Sylvie, who clutched Mr. Hickham’s briefcase as if it contained lost pirate treasure.

  I knew it didn’t matter. The truth had to prevail so that freedom could as well. No one should live in fear; I knew that firsthand.

  I dropped Sylvie at the front door with one request: that she leave us out of it. She nodded and disappeared inside the front door where she was swarmed by officers; they were expecting her.

  I drove away with a sense of relief that it was done. But it wasn’t. Now, I had to go to school and face Ace and Hickham without tipping them off. I needed to mend things with Nate, and I needed to pay attention in Algebra, because my grade was slipping.

  Later that day, Felix and I sat on a bench outside, picking at our lunches but not feeling particularly hungry. I knew something was wrong with him, and it wasn’t just the heaviness of last night.

  “You want to talk about it?” I offered, hoping that he would.

  “My parents found a place they want to send me.”

  “A place? Like they are sending you to rehab or what?”

  “Something like that. It’s a Christian therapeutic center. They think it will help.”

  I shoved my lunch back in its sack forcefully but then took a breath. I wasn’t mad, I realized as a tear sprang from my right eye, hot and determined as it traveled down my cheek. “You’re leaving me?”

  “It’s just for a little while. I figured, if I do whatever they want and show them that they are important…but I’m just me, then they might leave it alone once I get back.”

  I didn’t know what to think or say. I was angry at his parents, but I wasn’t really; I felt sad and hurt for him and for me. Which was selfish, but I’d only just gotten him, and now they were taking him away.

  “But hey,” he added, “you never know—it might work, and I’ll come back and be in love with you.” He elbowed me like it was a joke, but it didn’t feel like one. I just leaned my head over on his arm, and we sat in silence until lunch was over. As we walked back to our dark corner, I asked, “When do you leave?”

  “This weekend. They found a place and got me in so quickly that they didn’t want to wait until school was out. I’ll have a tutor while I’m there.”

  I wanted to respond, but I was afraid that, if I did, more tears would come. I hugged him and told him it wouldn’t be the last time.

  As I was headed toward Mr. Knight’s classroom, I got a text from Sylvie. The police were on their way to the school. I ran all the way to Mr. Knight’s class and motioned for him and Nate to come out into the hallway.

  “It’s about to go down,” I
said. “I’m going to get in place.”

  “Okay. I don’t want you alone. Nate, you go with her. I’ll be in the front office. Be careful.”

  We both nodded and headed out to the front of the school. We hid around the corner where we would be able to see the police and television crew arrive, but they wouldn’t see us.

  “What’s going to happen to Sylvie?” Nate whispered.

  “I don’t know. I’ll call you after this is done.”

  “Ace has done enough damage,” he gruffed. “It’s time he got what he deserves.”

  “He will. It will all come out in the wash.”

  “How are you so sure? I mean, he apparently didn’t get what he deserved last year.”

  “But this year, we have proof—”

  I stopped before I said anything more, and my heart sped up as I realized how close Nate was standing to me, peering around the corner. My mouth opened to tell him everything, but my stomach churned. I wasn’t ready. And thankfully, I didn’t even have to.

  Nate shushed me and pointed to the front of the school. Six police officers escorted a handcuffed Hickham to the curb where they waited for the squad car to pull up. I got out the camera and snapped pictures of them ducking his head and putting him in the back of the car. Nate grabbed my hand to hold me back until the streams of students came running out onto the sidewalk in a frenzy. We joined them and continued to take pictures of Hickham in the back seat.

  We asked for statements from several officers, and we even watched the TV crew film a spot as the squad car drove away. All the other students were hysterical and asking questions, and several girls were crying, but a small pocket of students was quietly conferring with relief in their eyes and a weight lifted from their shoulders.

  Soon, Principal Sands came out and made a very diplomatic statement that didn’t reveal anything and made everyone go back to class even though there were only twenty minutes left in the day. Mr. Knight gave us discreet thumbs up and told us to stay out front in case anything else was going to happen. We both knew he meant, Ace but we weren’t sure we wanted to witness that.

  We sat down on the curb and watched the students filter reluctantly back through the doors. But soon, my gaze was not on the students; it was on Nate. Something was still gnawing at me.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” he said, not looking at me, continuing to watch the front doors.

  “What were you talking to Ace and Sylvie about in the hallway?”

  Nate dropped his eyes from the doors for a split second, his eyes stern and serious. Then, they returned to the doors. “You,” he admitted.

  “Me?”

  “I told them to leave you alone.”

  A jolt went down my spine. “Or else?” I joked.

  “Something like that. That’s why Ace jumped me in detention. He didn’t like being told to stay away.”

  I nodded even though I felt puzzled. Why would he threaten Ace and Sylvie if we weren’t even speaking at the time?

  As if he read my mind, he answered, “Things were just getting intense….” He dropped his head down to look at me. “I just didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Nate’s face was close to mine, because we’d been talking in hush tones. I hadn’t noticed his proximity or his height until this moment when I found myself fixated on his lips. His perfectly full lips were slightly parted as if he was still hanging on the last word he’d said: “you.”

  I tilted my head upwards into the shade of his Razorback hat and, without thinking, kissed his bottom lip. It seemed an automatic response to the fact that he cared. But it was a stupid response. I froze. There, with my mouth on his mouth, I froze. What in the world, Avery Brave! What are you doing? He’s not kissing you back; you’ve ruined everything! How are you going to get out of this one?

  I considered pulling away and covering my face with my hands in shame. I thought maybe I could cry…but it wouldn’t be real. I toyed with the idea of slapping him, which was off course and just as ridiculous as kissing him. Then, all of the sudden, as I started to pull away, his hand was at the back of my neck, pulling me back in, and his mouth was on mine. He kissed, and I kissed back; I kissed, and he kissed back. The world melted into a swirl of watercolor, and, although I was aware that we were still sitting on the curb, I didn’t care.

  Nate Reinhart was kissing me.

  10.

  I waited for Nate like he asked at the entrance of the team locker room, feeling completely awkward as players walked out and gave me “the nod”. Did they know? Had Nate walked in to get his gym bag and announced it right away? The locker room was a gross cesspool of testosterone that I didn’t pretend to understand or identify with. Or were they just being hormonal boys and checking me out? Maybe Nate had more class than to announce he’d just kissed the nosy reporter.

  After there was a lull in the stream of players exiting the locker room, I inched my way toward the doorway, wondering what was taking so long. I heard a scuffle of feet and gruff voices. I strained to listen past the loud vent when I heard a long crash…like locker doors. I hesitated to race in and find out what it was, because anybody knows locker rooms equal boys in towels—or nothing at all. Something I had no intention of seeing. But in my hesitation, I realized one person I hadn’t seen come out: Ace!

  I rushed through the entrance and saw Nate’s crutches on the floor. Nate was pinned against the locker with Ace’s hand at his throat, the other drawn up in a fist, primed for a right cross. Ace’s face was painted for the pep rally in red and blue but twisted in jealousy, anger, and shock.

  Not again.

  Nate’s eyes widened, and he tried to shake his head, but I stormed to the side of Ace and pushed his ribs.

  “Ace! Stop this! Get off of him!” I shouted.

  Ace’s fist turned to a backhand and caught me right on my left cheek. I fell backward over the bench with my feet in the air. I held my throbbing cheek but scrambled back to my feet.

  “You had no right!” Ace yelled.

  I knew what he was yelling about, but I didn’t respond. Nate thrashed and yelled, managing to get a hand free and connect a few licks with Ace’s chest and arm. I jumped onto the bench and then onto Ace’s back, pulling his hair and causing him to yelp and turn on me. I didn’t let go; I clung to his back as he tried to claw me off and thrashed around until he slammed us up against the lockers, causing me to crumple to the floor and gasp for breath. But my diversion had allowed Nate to regain the upper hand, and, with one swift connection of his crutch to Ace’s head, Ace fell limp to the floor.

  Nate hopped over to me and crashed to the floor beside me. “Avery! Are you okay?”

  I pulled away in pain as he touched my cheek, “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. It’s already bruising. And you can’t catch your breath. Do you feel like a rib is poking you?”

  I tried to take a breath—ouch! “Yeah.”

  “I think he broke a rib. Stay here. I’m going to go get help.”

  I anxiously looked at Ace lying unconscious on the floor. Nate pushed the hair from my face. “You’re right. It will take me too long to crutch over there. I won’t leave you here with him. I’ll call coach, and he’ll call the police.”

  As he hobbled to his locker to retrieve his phone, I held my side and tried to breath. My nose tingled as if tears were forming, but they didn’t. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing.

  Nate returned and slid down beside me against the locker. “They’re on their way.”

  “Okay,” I said flatly, realizing the adrenaline was wearing off.

  “You’re crazy, you know. I don’t know any other girl who would rush Ace Wentworth in a boy’s locker room.”

  I shrugged. It wasn’t the first rash thing I’d done that day.

  “It was pretty bad-A.”

  I smirked and rolled my eyes, “That’s my middle name. Bad-A.”

  “No, but it is Brave. And you certainly are br
ave,” he said seriously.

  My nose tingled again, this time followed by burning eyes. I ducked my head so Nate wouldn’t see, but he did anyway, and he carefully wiped the tear off my throbbing cheek. “I’m sorry….”

  He didn’t say anything. He took my hand and held it on his lap. I stared at our hands, fingers intertwined.

  “He waited until all the guys had left and tackled me,” Nate explained matter-of-factly. “Knocked the crutches out from under me. Yelling threats about keeping my hands off you. How we had no right to out him, Sylvie, and Hickman like that. How we ruined him.”

  Flashbacks to Ace’s cruel hands flooded my memory, and I cringed. “I’m so sorry, Nate.”

  Nate lifted my chin so that I was forced to look at him. “Avery, don’t be sorry. None of this is your fault. This is on Ace. And he’ll get what’s coming to him, just like you said. He actually just walked himself right into it this time.”

  “What makes you so sure now?”

  He shrugged. I was quiet for a long time, hesitating over whether I should share something with him that I couldn’t take back. Something I felt might change everything. It was a do or die moment.

  “Last year…he threw me down the stairs,” I muttered.

  “What?” Nate’s eyes searched my face, confused. Then, it seemed to register, and Nate growled, scrambling toward Ace where he was still lying unconscious. I grabbed his boot just before he was out of reach.

  “Don’t, Nate! The rest of this was self-defense. But that wouldn’t be.”

  He hung his head and paused just inches away from Ace as the head coach walked in followed by the paramedics and police.

  Within seconds, we were separated by medics, the principal, fireman, and policemen, giving statements, getting checked out, and calling our parents. I knew, once my parents were called, I’d be whisked away, and this strange moment I’d had with Nate Reinhart might be over. Forever. When we saw each other on Monday, it might all just go back to the way it was. Football star forced to do projects with the nosy reporter. Maybe that kiss had just been the adrenaline. Maybe he was feeling protective in the moment, but that could change.