Haunted

by Alexandra Inger

  “What? Catherine?” There was confusion in his face now.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I quit. I’m resigning. I don’t want to write for the paper anymore,” I said without looking at him.

  “Are you kidding me?” he said. “Because of Cheryl? You can’t let her-“

  “Yes, I can. Yes. I can. I have to. I actually don’t think she’s right in the head. And she’s not going to stop. Andrea has the right idea. I have to do what I have to do to protect myself. It might not be the most courageous course of action, but I think it’s the smartest. And – “

  I hesitated, because I absolutely loathed myself for what I was about to say. That acrid lump rose in my throat again and I thought I might actually choke on my words.

  “And we can’t be friends anymore. I mean, we can’t hang out anymore. When she sees us together it inflames her too much, and then things like this morning happen. It’s so lucky that she couldn’t budge that horse, or that the horse didn’t decide to leave the stables and go for a wander around in the night. If something bad had happened to Andrea’s horse I’d never be able to forgive myself. I mean, what is Cheryl gonna do next to top that? I can’t fight her – I’m not sick and crazy like her, so she’ll beat me every time, you know? And I don’t have it in me. I just want to be left alone.”

  There was silence for a beat. I looked up at Chad and realized that when he did speak, it would only be to try to convince me to go back on my decision. And I had serious doubts about my ability to resist him. So I quickly stood up and grabbed my things in preparation for leaving.

  “Catherine, please. Hear me out,” he pleaded as he put his hand on my arm. Electrical current thrilled through me at his touch and I gasped as I pushed him away and made a beeline for the door.

  “I’m sorry!” he called after me. “Catherine!”

  But I was gone and scurrying off to my next class. I would have a bit of a respite for an hour in Social Studies with Margie, but of course, all my brain could gnaw on was the fact that I’d be seeing Chad very shortly in Italian.

  I walked to class with legs like lead. I was dreading seeing him again and even briefly contemplated going home sick for the afternoon. But I was far too conscientious a student for anything like that.

  I arrived before he did, and I made a point of choosing a seat on the opposite side of the room from where we usually sat together. When he did finally show up, our eyes met just long enough for me to see him register the slight, and then I looked away in shame. He walked past me without saying a word and took his usual seat.

  I felt sick.

  My guts churned wondering what would happen when it came time for everyone to present the assigned dialogue for the week. Should I hastily arrange to partner with someone else? Would he? I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t know what he’d do. I felt hot and flushed and wondered if anybody would be able to tell.

  When it came time and the teacher asked who would like to go first, Chad immediately spoke up:

  “I will. Catherine?” he looked at me as he made his way to the front of the class.

  I gave him a nod of acknowledgement as I stood up to join him.

  We delivered our lines flawlessly, and then we went through it again exchanging roles as we were required to do every week.

  “Thank you,” said Mr. Nunzio when we were finished. “A bit of a lackluster performance from you this week, Catherine, but your pronunciation was excellent as usual.” Then he looked at me a bit more closely. “Are you feeling alright? You look a bit peaky.”

  “Fine,” I smiled weakly as I took my seat.

  Chad eyed me with concern and I just wanted the floor to split open and to fall through it into oblivion.

  As the end of class drew nearer, I was stricken with the fear that he would try to chase me down and talk to me. I mentally prepared by imagining myself bolting for the door as soon as the bell rang and sprinting down the hallway. When there two minutes left on the clock I very quietly and subtly tried to slip my books into my bag and pull my cardigan on.

  “Catherine! Why so anxious to leave? We’re not boring you today are we?” Mr. Nunzio teased me.

  Great. Now I would feel completely conspicuous if I tried to jump up and be the first out the door. I smiled slightly and shook my head.

  Finally the bell rang. I rose quickly only to discover that the strap from my book bag had caught around the leg of my chair, and in addition to nearly pulling the chair over and causing a commotion, I lost valuable seconds while I bent down to disentangle it.

  Chad was on me in an instant.

  “Look, Catherine. I know what it’s like to be pestered and persecuted by someone you want nothing to do with, so I’m not going to do that to you. But just give me this one chance to speak my piece and then I’ll never bother you again if that’s what you still want.”

  I sighed in resignation. Outside of Margie, Chad was the one person who had really gone above and beyond for me. I did owe him an opportunity to speak. And part of me was hoping that he’d convince me.

  “Walk with me,” he said as we headed out into the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, unfamiliar with the direction he was taking us in.

  “It’s a shortcut. You’ll see.”

  I followed him through the hallways with no idea where he could possibly be leading me. Finally I saw an exterior door with a shaft of sunlight cutting through the narrow window. He pushed it open for me and I stepped out into the rose garden.

  “Let’s sit,” he commanded me as we headed over to the little stone bench.

  I cringed. But I sat down stiffly next to him with my back ramrod straight and my hands folded primly in my lap.

  “Catherine,” his voice was both compassionate and sorrowful. “First of all, please don’t quit writing for the paper. You’re a great writer and you’re a great addition to the Chronicle and you don’t ever have to speak to me again if you don’t want to. Michael can be your editor.”

  “What am I supposed to write about, Chad? My experiences of being bullied and ostracized by the cool kids?” I said sharply.

  “Maybe. I’m sure if you wanted to you could write something really compelling along those lines.”

  I said nothing, but turned my head away from him.

  “At least think about it. And I have some bad news – I called the printers and it’s too late to pull your column.” He paused for a moment. “But I think it’s a blessing in disguise. It’s a great piece and it should be printed. And I’ll make sure that all comments are closed on the internet edition – she won’t be able to write anything. And, by the time it comes out Cheryl will already know that you’ve been effectively banned from the stables thanks to her and she won’t be inspired to do any more damage around there.”

  “It’s not that,” I sniffed. “I wanted you to pull it so she wouldn’t see how much it had meant it to me.”

  I continued looking off into the distance.

  Now it was Chad’s turn to say nothing.

  “Look, I’ll think about it, okay. About writing for the paper, I mean,” I said as I began to stand up.

  “Please wait! I’m not done,” Chad insisted. “That’s only part one. I want to talk to you about us.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly.

  “What I mean is, we’re friends, wouldn’t you agree? And I think it would be a shame to let Cheryl ruin that.”

  “I’m not letting her ruin anything, she’s doing it all on her own.” I turned my head away again.

  “Okay, well let me talk to her. If anybody can get her to lay off, it’s me. Please. Let me talk to her. I’ll do whatever I can to get her off your back.”

  I shrugged. “You can do what you want. But I think she’s unstable, so I doubt it would do any good.”

  “Is it what you want? Is it what you want? To not have anything to do with me anymore?” He leaned forward and craned his neck around in an attempt to get me to look hi
m in the eye. So I obliged and turned to face him.

  “What I want is to be left alone and to not have some crazy girl with a vendetta interfere in my business and make my life miserable. What I want is to be able to come and go as I please without feeling sick with worry that I might bump into her somewhere. That’s what I want. And there’s only one way I can see that even has a chance of making that happen.

  “There’s only one way I can see as well and that’s to let me talk to her,” Chad insisted.

  He was looking at me so intently and earnestly that my resistance began to break down. I bowed my head and mulled it over for a few moments.

  “No,” I said finally. “Please. You can’t talk to her. It’ll only make things worse. I know it. But please try it my way first and let’s just stay away from each other…maybe I’ll write again for the paper. I don’t know, but give me some space to think about it.”

  He digested what I had said for a moment, and then he began to nod slowly.

  “Okay. But I’m here for you if anybody gives you any more trouble. You know that right?”

  I didn’t even have the energy to answer him. This day had completely drained me and now with the sun in my eyes I just sat there and squinted at him feeling incredibly defeated.

  “I should go, because knowing my luck Cheryl is hiding behind one of those bushes and is about to jump out with a switchblade at the ready,” I said tersely.

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Chad reprimanded me.

  “Exactly. It doesn’t seem so far out of the realm of possibility anymore, does it?”

  I picked up my things and stood up to leave. I walked away leaving Chad sitting there looking unnerved.

  CHAPTER 27

  At least the next morning, getting up for school at the usual time felt like sleeping in. I was sad not to be getting up to go riding, but I had to admit, sleeping was almost as good. I was being pulled back into the mire of depression and being asleep meant being blissfully unaware of what had been happening over the past week or two and it was a very welcome respite.

  I was sitting in math class when the slip came. Everybody knew that the arrival of a yellow slip meant that someone was being summoned to the office and there was always a collective holding of breath while everyone in the class waited to see who was the unfortunate recipient.

  Mr. Terlesky took the little piece of paper from the office assistant and consulted it for a second. Then he looked up and said, “Catherine – your presence is requested at the principal’s office. You can take all of your books with you.”

  “What? Why? Does it say?” I asked, the panic clearly audible in my voice.

  “Sorry,” he smiled. “Don’t sound so worried. Most kids would kill for a free pass out of math!”

  The class murmured their appreciation of this sentiment.

  I gathered all of my things and headed off to the administration building. My stomach twisted and I felt a sharp pain in my bowels as I wondered what Cheryl was up to now.

  Maybe it was just the guidance counselor wanting to follow up with me about Trevor, I rationalized. Sure, that must be it. But the nagging feeling that somehow Cheryl was behind this kept coming up no matter what I tried to think to squash it down.

  I silently handed the yellow slip of paper to the secretary at the office.

  “Ah, yes,” she said as she read my name. “Mr. Coffey is waiting for you. Right this way please,” she directed me to follow her to the principal’s office.

  She knocked twice on the door and then pushed it open.

  “Mr. Coffey, Catherine Sullivan is here,” she said as she pushed the door open wide and nodded for me to step through.

  Mr. Coffey stood up from behind his desk as I entered. I think he might have held his hand out to shake mine, but I was so blindsided by the sight of both Cheryl and Trevor seated in chairs on one side of the office and Mrs. York, the guidance counselor on the other side, that if he did I failed to acknowledge it.

  “Please have a seat,” Mr. Coffey gestured to the only empty one in the room next to Mrs. York.

  I think my knees were actually knocking as I sat and I was just grateful that they didn’t give out on me altogether. Cheryl shot me a smug little smile and Trevor eyed me up aggressively.

  “I think you know why we’re all here,” Mr. Coffey began. “Apparently there was an incident at the fall dance in which you assaulted Mr. Murray here? Would you care to explain what happened?” Mr. Coffey smiled at me as if he had just asked me to tell him a little bit about myself.

  I couldn’t speak. I was trying to imagine what on earth Cheryl was doing here. I had a deep sense of foreboding and I just wanted to get up and run for my life out of his office and out of the school and into the woods where nobody could ever find me.

  “Catherine?” Mrs. York prompted me.

  “Well, we were dancing,” I said slowly in a strange, disembodied voice that didn’t belong to me. “I didn’t want to, but another girl kind of threw us together as a joke. Trevor was hanging off of me and making me uncomfortable. He put his hand on my…my behind…and I slapped him.”

  “I see. Mr. Murray says that that isn’t so. Mr. Murray maintains that you were interested in being his girlfriend and that when he rejected you, you got upset and hit him,” Mr. Coffey said pleasantly.

  “No! No that isn’t true at all!” I protested, my voice becoming shrill. “I’ve never wanted to be his girlfriend!”

  “Ms. Larson attests to Mr. Murray’s version of the story. She says you had been pursuing him for some time. She was also present at the dance and says that Mr. Murray danced with you only reluctantly and tried to keep you at arms length. She says she never witnessed him groping you or touching you in any inappropriate way.”

  Cheryl was having a hard time controlling her smirk now.

  “That’s a lie! She wasn’t even there when we were dancing! She was outside talking to Chad!” I nearly shrieked.

  “Calm down, calm down please, Ms. Sullivan,” Mr. Coffey tutted.

  I felt like my brain was going to explode. All the things I might have said in my own defense swirled through, but I realized that I would have to incriminate too many other people in order to defend myself. I could have told him that both Trevor and Cheryl had been drunk that night, but then I would have gotten Chad in trouble because it had been his room that the drinking had been taking place in. I could have told him that I found Trevor absolutely despicable because of his abhorrent treatment of Lisa, and that if they didn’t believe me there was a clinic somewhere in the city that had records to prove it.

  “Now, Mrs. York informs me that you came to her last week complaining that Mr. Murray had threatened you?” Mr. Coffey continued in his benign way. “Tell me a little bit about that.”

  “Yes!” I was speaking passionately now. “He followed me across campus in the dark. I don’t know how long he had been following me for. But I was almost back at the dorm when he appeared from out of nowhere and told me that I had embarrassed him at the dance and then he called me a mouthy little bitch and told me that if I couldn’t shut my mouth then somebody ought to shut it for me. His tone of voice was very clear – it was a threat, absolutely. That’s why I reported it to Mrs. York. I was afraid!”

  Trevor rolled his eyes.

  “Yes,” Mr. Coffey responded, “Well, Mr. Murray says that he happened to see you that night as you walked towards your dormitory, and that he wanted to take the opportunity to clear the air with you and apologize for any hurt feelings he may have caused you. He says that you reacted quite badly and told him that you would get revenge on him for rejecting you. He says he wasn’t going to say anything about either incident because he felt sorry for you, but that when Mrs. York spoke to him the other day about your complaint he felt compelled to tell the truth.”

  My jaw must have hit the floor I was so aghast at these ridiculous lies. I looked from one to the other, both sat there like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.


  “He’s lying. They both are,” I snarled through clenched teeth.

  “Well then, it seems we are at an impasse.” Mr. Coffey removed his glasses from his face and placed them on his desk. “Would the three of you mind waiting outside while Mrs. York and I have a little discussion?” He smiled serenely at us.

  Cheryl, Trevor, and I rose and shuffled out of the office.

  The instant the door was shut behind us I confronted Cheryl.

  “How dare you lie for him!?” I spat. “After what he did to your best friend?! You’re despicable!”

  She just stood there grinning manically at me as she had done that first time I had met her in the hallway.

  “What did I do to her best friend?” Trevor goaded me. “Huh? You just keep making shit up.”

  “What did you do?! Used her and got her pregnant, that’s all! She had an abortion a few weeks ago because of you!” The words flew out of my mouth before my brain could make the decision whether or not to say them.

  Cheryl’s eyes grew huge and she actually stopped grinning. She shot me a look

  “Just keep making shit up, bitch. Just keep making it up.”

  His tone was insolent and he turned his back to me, but I could see that I had made a tiny puncture in his bubble of smugness. His eyes flicked to Cheryl to clock her reaction to what I had just said, but I suppose he didn’t like what her facial expression was telling him because then he turned his back on us both and walked a few feet apart from us.

  Cheryl just stood there looking sheepish and uncertain and had nothing to say for the first time in her life.

  Finally the door opened and Mrs York said, “Thank you, Cheryl and Trevor. You can return to your classes. Catherine please come back inside.”

  I went back in dreading what they were going to say to me. Would I be kicked out of school? My parents would be furious. They’d think I’d done it on purpose because of how badly I had resisted moving and being sent to boarding school. I’d have to go back to Florida and to the retirement community. I’d probably be grounded for the rest of my life.