Haunted

by Alexandra Inger

  “When I was in the computer lab tonight – I just wanted some privacy. I’m really nervous about Saturday and I wanted to read up on exactly what to expect and how to be prepared. It bugs Cheryl if I’m looking at that stuff in our room,” she explained.

  “What? Why?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Because she thinks it’s morbid that I’m so obsessed about it. But I’m just scared. I’m terrified.”

  At that moment the door flew open and Cheryl appeared.

  “Oh hey, you two! Bonding are we?” she smiled and I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

  “Catherine knows about Saturday,” Lisa blurted out.

  Cheryl’s face darkened.

  “Oh is that why you’re crying again?” she said half under her breath. “Honey, I’ve told you a hundred times – it’s over and done with before you know it. By this time on Saturday – the whole business is over and done with and you never have to think about it again,” she said impatiently.

  “I’m really scared, Cheryl!” Lisa insisted.

  “Oh, it’s so nothing,” Cheryl said with scorn.

  The penny dropped and I exclaimed, “You’ve had one?”

  There was awkward silence as Cheryl and Lisa exchanged glances.

  Cheryl sighed with irritation. “You might as well know – yes. I had one a couple of years ago. My friend’s cousin…well, let’s just say he was interfering with me. When my mother found out she wanted to kill him. I wish she had. The police got involved – it was a nightmare. Anyway, my mother helped me take care of the situation. It was one really shitty afternoon of my life and then it was over.”

  What? Was Cheryl telling me that she had been raped and molested and had had to have an abortion as a result? My mind was reeling. Everything I thought I knew about these girls was all wrong and I just wanted to hold them both tightly and make it alright for them.

  But I didn’t. I sat there next to Lisa on the bed, my jaw on the floor, and said nothing.

  Cheryl clocked my expression and said dismissively, “Oh it’s fine. It happens all the time. I’m hardly special. I’m over it – I just wish everyone else could be as well.”

  I took the cue from Cheryl to let the subject rest for today and I decided to make my exit.

  “Okay, well, I’ll leave you two in peace,” I said as I stood up. “I have tons of homework to do - if you can believe that! Already! Lisa, if you need anything at all – I know Cheryl has your back – but just in case – don’t hesitate to ask me, okay?”

  “Thanks,” she smiled at me and I thought I even detected a hint of gratitude in her eyes.

  I certainly saw Cheryl in a new light, now. I felt horrible that I was all too quick to condemn her in my mind as being selfish and insensitive while her friend was enduring what would probably amount to one of the worst experiences of her life. But now I saw that Lisa’s situation was probably dredging up horrible memories for Cheryl and it was no wonder that she sought avoidance in Chad. She should be commended for doing as much as she had already.

  I shuffled down the hallway in shock from all the revelations I had just heard. I couldn’t imagine being able to sit down at my desk and concentrate on my homework now.

  When I got back to my room, Margie was there. “Hey, roomie! I was just going downstairs for something to eat. Wanna join me?”

  “That sounds like the best idea ever!” I said.

  So the two of us went downstairs for something to eat, and I did not once feel self conscious about what was on my plate and Margie was hilarious and made me laugh and for a good hour I was able to forget about the horrible tragedy that was going on upstairs.

  CHAPTER 14

  So consumed was I with thoughts of what was going on with Lisa that I had neglected to write up any mock columns to show Chad as examples of my writing. Not that he had asked or was expecting me to do so, but I felt bad that I had failed to write anything anyway.

  After my last class of the day I made my way over to the admin building and found the Office of the Editor in the paper’s offices. Chad was not there, but the other co-editor, Michael, was.

  “Hey Catherine!” he called out to me as I loitered uncertainly in the doorway. I was very flattered that he remembered me – and my name! – and I smiled shyly.

  “Hi! I was supposed to see Chad to talk about my column,” I explained.

  “Oh he should be here any minute. He usually comes by the office right after classes finish. Have a seat.” He directed me to the old sofa up against the wall nearest Chad’s desk.

  “So Chad tells me you’re from the west coast?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah, well, no. I’m not now! I keep forgetting – I grew up in a suburb near Tacoma, but then last year my parents retired. They decided to sell our house and move to Florida and send me off to boarding school!”

  “Oh that was a convenient way to get rid of you so they could enjoy their retirement!”

  He was joking, but it suddenly struck me that there was a kernel of truth in there somewhere. Was it solely concern for my academic career, or had my parents indeed wanted to “get rid of me” so that they could enjoy themselves?

  I laughed uneasily and prayed that Chad would show up soon.

  For once my prayers were answered and Chad came through the door almost instantly.

  Hallelujah! I thought to myself.

  “Catherine! Hey! Nice to see you! Did you get the reading assignment done for Italian?” he greeted me.

  “I did. It seems like Italian is really similar to French, don’t you think?”

  “Totally! I’m glad I have a little bit of French – I think it’s going to help a lot.”

  We got to talking about the column he wanted me to write. He was hoping that I would be alright with making it as personal as possible. He wanted me write about if I was feeling homesick, and if there were any cultural differences between teenagers out west and teenagers here. He wanted to know what kind of reception the kids at Brandenhurst had given me and what I thought of how the school was run. He told me that the paper published once every two weeks and that while he’d love a column for every issue, he’d also understand if I could only manage to write a column for every other issue. He gave me a few of last year’s issues of the paper and told me to take them home with me and read them over the weekend to get a feel for the style and tone. And then he gave me his cell phone number and told me that if I had ever any questions or problems that I should feel free to contact him any time.

  “Here – why don’t you give me your number too, in case I need to reach you for anything,” he said as he took his phone out to add my contact information.

  “I don’t have a cell phone,” I winced, expecting some sort of reaction.

  “Oh, okay, no problem. I know where to find you, anyway,” he said without skipping a beat and I was very grateful to him for not caring about my cell phone ownership status.

  “I told Cheryl I’d meet her over at the dining hall to get something to eat at four,” he said as he checked the time. “Do you want to join us? I’m walking over there now.”

  “Oh I don’t know if Cheryl would appreciate that!” I said nervously.

  “Ha!” he guffawed. “I don’t know what Cheryl has told you about the two of us, but we are broken up. We are not seeing each other anymore, and I agreed, in the spirit of good will, to just be friends and to keep it at that. I would actually appreciate it if you were to come with me, because it might reinforce the idea in her head that we are just friends. I told you, I know Cheryl very very well, and I’m sure she’s thinking up some scheme right at this very moment to somehow trick me into getting back together with her. But because I don’t want a war – and I remembered what you said the other day about keeping on good terms – I’m making some compromises. She’s been texting me like five hundred times a day to meet up, so I’m meeting up, but if you would come and serve as chaperone I would greatly appreciate it. As a personal favor to me,” he looked at
me with his serious blue eyes and I could hardly say no after all the nice things he’d done for me already.

  Michael, who had seemed engrossed in his work but who had obviously been listening in piped up. “Chad is wildly exaggerating. She only texted him four hundred and ninety eight times yesterday!” he smirked.

  “Okay! I’ll come! But you have to promise to tell her it was your idea to bring me!” I entreated him.

  “I will – no worries!” Chad smiled at me.

  And so we walked over the Dining Hall together. I was nervous and preoccupied with thinking of how Cheryl would react and so there was a lot of awkward silence on the way.

  “Do you have any ideas for your first column yet?” Chad said in another attempt to make conversation.

  “Oh. Yes, I mean, there are so many different things. My biggest challenge will be to narrow the scope of it and save some things for subsequent columns! Coming here has been almost like culture shock.” I hesitated and wondered if I should tell Chad the truth. “Can I tell you something? In confidence?” I asked him timidly.

  “Of course,” he sensed the change in my tone of voice and realized that something was up. He looked at me with concern in his eyes.

  “Well, I’m not gonna write about this – this is just between you and me. But my family wasn’t…wealthy.”

  “Oh, you mean you’re on scholarship?” he shrugged as if it were no big deal.

  “No. I wish I were on scholarship because then at least that would mean that I was extraordinarily smart! But no, it’s not that.”

  Now I was embarrassed and I wish I hadn’t said anything.

  “Then what? I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

  I took a deep breath.

  “Well,” I began, “Before I came here, I was just normal. I lived in a normal house on a normal street and went to a normal school. The reason my parents moved to Florida and sent me to this school was because they won the lottery.”

  He shot me a puzzled look, and then his face broke wide open into a grin and he started laughing great big deep belly laughs.

  I turned red and must have looked distressed because he very quickly tried to reassure me that he was not laughing at me.

  “I’m sorry!“ he gasped for breath. “It’s not you! It’s just – do Cheryl and Lisa know about this?”

  “Oh god, no!” I exclaimed. “No – they don’t know! You can’t tell them!”

  “No – I wouldn’t dream of it! That’s why I’m laughing so hard – imagining how those two snobs would take it! They’d die! Oh you poor thing!” He resumed laughing again.

  It was infectious and I started giggling as well.

  “They’ve noticed little things about me that aren’t quite right,” I conceded, “Like the way I dress or that I don’t have a designer handbag or a cell phone. I give myself away in a lot of ways!”

  “Oh my god, it’s so funny! You know those two come from such old money – and it’s not just money – it’s society and social position and all that crap…they aren’t even conscious of it – it’s just been ingrained upon them since birth.”

  “Well, I think they can actually smell it on me, because they certainly don’t treat me as an equal,” I observed.

  “That’s got nothing to do with wealth or social status. They’re just mean girls. They’d be like that if you were the daughter of the Queen of England and you were new and you looked like – “ he broke off suddenly.

  “Like what?” I was still sort of laughing from before, but now I was paranoid and self-conscious. Did Chad notice that I didn’t wear make up or put any effort into styling my hair too?

  He cleared his throat and said, “Like, well, you’re just natural. And you’re pretty. And that must really get Cheryl’s goat because she puts a great deal of time and effort and money into her looks.”

  “Oh I don’t think Cheryl’s bothered about me at all,” I said. “I think she thinks I’m plain and boring and could a use a little more make up!”

  He stopped and turned to really look at me.

  “Catherine, you’re a really nice girl. Don’t let Cheryl influence you too much. You don’t need make up or an expensive bag or any of that crap,” he said in a tone so serious I almost thought he was angry.

  Funny, I thought. I think Stefano was saying pretty much the exact same thing to me the other day. Only instead of “crap” he had used the word “finery.”

  Chad continued, “It’s obvious you’re different from most of the girls here, and all the nicer because of it. Don’t let this place change you.”

  I felt safe talking to him honestly about Cheryl because it was clear to me what his real feelings for her were. So I said, “You know, everybody has been warning me about Cheryl and Lisa since I got here. Are they really that bad? I mean, I can see that they were brought up in privilege – they are both rather self-centered – but that doesn’t make them monsters, does it?”

  He sighed heavily as we began to walk on. “No, I guess they’re not monsters. I don’t know. Just don’t change, alright?”

  He held the door open for me as we entered the dining hall together. It wasn’t terribly busy this time of day and Cheryl saw us across the room immediately. She saw Chad and broke into an enormous smile, and then saw me and her face turned to thunder, but then she seemed to remember herself and she forced a smile back onto her face.

  “Hey Cheryl,” Chad said easily as we approached the table where she was sat waiting alone. “I hope you don’t mind – me and Catherine were just discussing newspaper business and I asked her to come join us.”

  “No! No I don’t mind at all!” Cheryl’s voice was so tight she was almost reaching falsetto levels of pitch.

  “Great. Are you hungry, Catherine? I’m going to get some fries or something,” Chad said as he draped his jacket over the chair next to Cheryl and began walking away.

  Cheryl hissed at me, “Why are you here?”

  “He asked me! I couldn’t say no!” I had no idea what to tell her.

  “Well stay for five minutes and then think of some excuse to leave.” She was shooting daggers out of her eyes at me.

  “Yes, of course I will. I am a bit peckish though – I think I’ll have some fries, too,” I said as I ducked away to get some food.

  Chad and I got our fries and walked back to the table together again. Cheryl had been furiously texting while we were gone, but now that she saw us coming back she slipped her phone back into her handbag.

  “Oh, that was my mother,” she said rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

  “Nobody asked you who you were texting,” Chad said, “Everyone’s entitled to their privacy.”

  Cheryl flinched ever so slightly – she had caught the barb.

  “So what are you doing on the paper, Catherine?” she asked me in her sweet-as-saccharine-and-twice-as-fake voice.

  “Chad’s asked me to write about my experiences as a new student at Brandenhurst!” I smiled.

  “Oh really?” Cheryl’s interest was piqued. She suddenly seemed genuinely interested. “That’s neat – you can write about how me and Lisa were the first to befriend you and show you around and take you out and stuff!” She was beaming as she imagined a newspaper column about her. “It can be like the social pages of Brandenhurst!”

  “Well, no, not quite. That’s not what we talked about,” Chad said bluntly, and his manner let her know that there would be no debate about it.

  Cheryl looked crestfallen. “It was just a joke, Chad. I didn’t actually expect the school paper – this school’s paper – to be evolved enough or interesting enough to have something like society pages.”

  “Nobody insulted you, Cheryl, so there’s no need for you to insult anyone back,” he said plainly.

  “I didn’t! Who did I insult?” she protested.

  “As co-editor of the paper, I think that was rather insulting to me.” He shoved another fry into his mouth and watched her.

  “I didn’t mea
n to,” she pouted.

  I decided to intervene and change the subject. “So did you read the first three chapters of Jane Eyre yet?” I asked excitedly.

  “No,” Cheryl sighed. “Like I have time to read.”

  “But you have to!” I responded worriedly. “We have those short answer questions to hand in on Monday.

  “I’ll download the movie this weekend.” Cheryl kept her eyes on Chad.

  “But you can’t,” I explained, “Some of the questions are about the narrative style and stuff that you can’t know from watching a movie.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll worry about it later,” she said and I could tell she was very aggravated with my presence.

  “What are you and Trevor doing this weekend, Chad?” she asked, opening her eyes wide to appear doe-like.

  “I don’t know yet. We haven’t decided. Nothing tonight; I’ve got a lot of homework to do and some stuff to look over for the paper. If we do anything at all, we might drive into town to see a movie tomorrow. Or there’s some guy I heard is having a party,“ Chad said disinterestedly.

  “Oh – a movie is a good idea. As long as it’s not Jane Eyre!” she rolled her eyes jokingly. “What movie do you think you’ll see?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll even see a movie. I’ll probably just stay here.”

  “Well,” Cheryl tried again, “Who’s having the party?” she asked in a baby-soft voice.

  “I have no idea. Trevor heard about it.”

  Chad wasn’t about to tell her and have her show up should he decide to go.

  He shoveled the last of the fries into his mouth and announced, “Well it was nice to see you Cheryl – we’ll talk about the school dance next week.”

  And he pushed his chair back and was off.

  “Oh my god,” Cheryl was stunned and hurt by his sudden departure. “When I asked him to meet me here to grab a quick bite together, I didn’t mean it literally! Like, why would I ask him to come and meet me so that I could watch him shove fries into his face for three minutes before he left?”