As if having school on Saturday now wasn’t bad enough, she had to start with her least favorite class. As she sat in first period Advanced Calculus, Evelyn watched the fingers on the clock tick by as if death himself was going to walk through the door. It may have been her nervousness, but the minutes seemed to be moving slower and slower. Her emotions were schizophrenic as she went through waves of excitement and dread. Her face and hands were clammy and she thought that if the emotional rollercoaster continued, she wouldn’t need the syrup to get sick. Evelyn felt a sense of relief when Miss Kline assigned the students their class work and took a seat at her desk. She’d been starting to believe that Miss Kline was never going to stop teaching and give her the opportunity that she’d been waiting for. She just hoped it wasn’t too late.
When Miss Kline was a few pages deep into a pile of homework, Evelyn nonchalantly pulled the bottle of Ipecac syrup from the pocket of her sweater. She quickly glanced in both directions to make sure no one was looking, then opened it. She took a deep breath. Here we go… She shrank in her chair and downed the syrup in one gulp. The bitter taste of it filled her mouth and throat. She had only enough time to slip the empty bottle back into the pocket of her sweater before her stomach wrenched violently and the dizzying nausea took hold of her. At this point, she wasn’t acting. She pushed her desk away and stood to her feet. Now, everyone’s eyes, including Miss Kline’s, were watching her curiously. Everything was blurry.
“Miss Smaok,” Miss Kline actually sounded concerned, “are you alright dear?”
Evelyn stumbled toward the trash can, “I…I…think I’m going to be—”
She covered her mouth as she felt the muscles of her stomach contract. The classroom was spinning now, but she kept her focus on the trash can. Miss Kline was saying something, but Evelyn couldn’t make it out. She tripped and dropped to her knees.
Trembling, she reached for the trash can. It was just out of arm’s reach. She crawled forward, thinking what a bad idea it was to drink the Ipecac. Just as she reached the trashcan, her stomach heaved and she vomited into the black plastic bag. It was a painful and horrible experience and when there was nothing left in her stomach, she glanced over her shoulders at the disgusted faces of her classmates.
Miss Kline, as calm and collected as ever, phoned for the nurse. Evelyn sat, bracing herself on her knees. She could feel the burning eyes of her classmates and hear them whispering about her. It only made her regret even more the decision to drink the oil.
Evelyn was relieved to see the plump little nurse, Mrs. Glotterman, appear in the doorway.
She hurried to Evelyn’s side. “Let me help you up, dear.”
She reached down and took Evelyn by the shoulders and aided her to her feet.
Mrs. Glotterman turned to Miss Kline. “I’m going to take her down to my office. The janitor is on his way to clean up the mess.”
It was a slow walk to the nurse’s office, and by the time they reached it, Evelyn was feeling her normal self, though she didn’t let Mrs. Glotterman know that. Once there, Mrs. Glotterman instructed Evelyn to lay down on one of the cots. Evelyn did as directed, throwing in a pathetic groan for good measure. Mrs. Glotterman took her temperature using a forehead thermometer.
“You’re temperature is normal. Do you think it might have been something you ate?” She asked in her sweet, motherly way.
Evelyn shrugged and said weakly, “Maybe.”
“Tell you what,” Mrs. Glotterman grabbed a rag and soaked it in cool water. “I’m going to step out for a bit. Why don’t you lie down and when I get back, we’ll decide whether to call home or not.”
Evelyn was suddenly filled with excitement. It wasn’t too late, her crazy plan might actually work. She bit her lip to hide her excitement and nodded pitifully.
Mrs. Glotterman gently placed the rag across her forehead and exited the room.
Evelyn waited until the sound of Mrs. Glotterman’s heels faded into the distance before climbing out of the cot. It was a well-known secret that Mrs. Glotterman and Principal Clowen snuck out during first period for a smoke break. She looked at the clock, she would have five minutes at most before they got back. She had only that small window. It was the only time she was certain that Principal Clowen wasn’t in his office.
She hurried to the doorway and peered in both directions down the hall. It was clear so she crept across to the main office.
The one person she would have to get past was Jeanie, Principal Clowen’s secretary. She was platinum blonde, young and ditzy. He hired her because she was eye candy.
Evelyn opened the door and stepped inside.
“Can I help you?” asked Jeanie as she chomped a piece of gum.
Evelyn held up a folded piece of paper. “Miss Kline asked me to deliver this message to Principal Clowen.”
“He’s not in at the moment.”
“I must say Miss Jeanie, that you look fabulous in that blouse today.”
She smiled. “Thanks, dear. Do you want me to take the message until Principal Clowen gets back?”
“Can I just put it on his desk?”
She thought for a moment. “I guess so.”
“Thanks, Miss Jeanie,” responded Evelyn enthusiastically, “I’ll take the back way out.”
“Okay, dear.”
With that, she was past Jeannie. Evelyn slipped into his office and went right to the school’s surveillance monitors. It took a moment, but she found the monitor for the hallway with her locker. The surveillance system was very user friendly and with a click of a button she was seeing everything in reverse. She watched her locker keenly. She saw the mass of black skirts and cardigan sweaters refill the hallway. She saw herself. Did she always slouch like that? She saw the hallways empty again. She saw Miss Kline and another teacher walk past. Then everything was still until the nighttime janitor appeared with his mop. She chuckled to herself at the sight of him dancing in rewind as he half-hazardly cleaned the floor. The hallway was still once more until she saw Miss Kline pass by again. Evelyn glanced at the time in the corner, 6:17 pm the previous day.
That is one dedicated teacher.
A moment later, the hallways were filled with students once again. She saw herself, discovering the note, then opening the locker, then approaching through the mass of people. She saw herself bump into the rude classmate wearing a hoody then saw the classmate disappear out of view.
Evelyn leaned forward. Wait! She stopped rewinding and let it play through. She saw herself in normal time, bump into the rude classmate and go to her locker. She hit rewind and let it hit play through again, this time focusing on the rude student. With her mouth gaped open, she witnessed the classmate approach her locker, put in the combination, hit the locker and open it, then quickly place the envelope inside – just seconds before she ran into Evelyn. There was a flitter of excitement in Evelyn’s stomach.
There was the source, right before her eyes.
The only problem however, was that the person’s face wasn’t visible because of the angle of the camera and the hoody. She hit rewind as her eyes narrowed on the monitor. She watched it again and again. “Who are you?” She asked herself.
Suddenly, there was a voice from the doorway. “I’m Principal Clowen. What are you doing in my office?”
There was a sinking feeling in Evelyn’s stomach, she took her finger off the button and the video paused automatically. She turned her head slowly toward him.
Principal Clowen’s hands were on his hips, his beady eyes narrowed almost to slits. “Well, young lady, what are you doing in my office?”
She froze. There was no way she could tell him the truth.
“You better have a good explanation for this.”
She felt the panic like it was a piece of granite about to crush her. “I….I….I was trying to access my grades.”
It was the worst excuse imaginable, but her instincts were screaming anything but the truth.
He stepped forward, leering at her. “
What is your name?”
She dropped her head. “Evelyn…Evelyn Smoak.”
“I’m calling your parents, Miss Smoak.”
He stomped by her to his phone and pressed a button. “Jeanie. Put me through to Evelyn Smoak’s mother or father.”
He tapped his foot angrily until the phone began to ring. Each peal echoed like thunder in Evelyn’s ears. All she could think about was the disappointment on her father’s face when he found out. She was in trouble, big trouble and she wasn’t any closer to finding the identity of the person who left the note.
As her mother’s voice came on the line, she lifted her eyes to the monitor. The video had paused with the mysterious person reaching to put the envelope in her locker. She leaned forward for a closer look as something caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed on it. The mysterious stranger was wearing a bracelet, a gold bracelet.
“Oh, my.” She uttered under her breath as her heart skipped a beat.
She couldn’t believe it. The rude student with the hoody, the mysterious person who delivered the envelope, the person frozen on the monitor, was Lana.
Chapter Five
Principal Clowen forced Evelyn to sit in one of the isolation rooms while they waited for her mother to arrive at the school. It was a small space with just enough room to fit a desk and a chair. The walls were painted gray to match the floor and ceiling. When the heavy door was shut, the only sounds that could be heard was the air filtering through a small vent in the corner of the ceiling. The rumors were that the high school was a jailhouse before The War. Now that Evelyn was sitting with her chin propped up by her hands in one of the isolation rooms, she didn’t doubt it. It was quiet and cold and boring, but it did give Evelyn a chance to wrap her mind around what she’d just discovered.
Her best friend had left a message for her and Evelyn was kicking herself for not figuring it out earlier. Lana was the only other person who knew the combination to her locker. In reality, it was her locker as much as Evelyn’s. She’d stored her gym clothes in Evelyn’s locker because it was closer to the gym. When you only have a few minutes to go to your locker and get your gym clothes before going onto class, cutting off a hallway makes the difference between empty bladder and a tardy slip. But why the locker? Why the hoody? Why not just hand her the note in person?
And the other curiosity that Evelyn couldn’t explain was the initials on the note. Lana’s were “L” and “V” as in Lana Vue. Who was N.L.? She didn’t even know anyone with those initials. She was happy to know that Lana was trying to contact her, but her search for answers only led to more questions.
She didn’t have much time to ponder those questions before the door opened and Principal Clowen ushered her out. He directed her to his office, where she found her mother standing next to Miss Kline who was wearing a profound look of satisfaction. What’s Miss Kline doing here? And why is she so happy?
Principal Clowen gestured for Evelyn to take a seat and she did so. She kept her head down, glancing briefly at her mother, whose eyes shown with something that could have been disappointment. Principal Clowen took a seat behind his desk and Evelyn’s mother and Miss Cline sat as well.
“Evelyn,” started Principal Clowen, “your mother and I have discussed the situation and we have agreed on a suitable punishment. We have decided that since this is the first documented time you have broken the rules, you will be spared physical punishment.”
That was a relief. Evelyn had not been looking forward to the whipping she had been expecting. He continued, “You do understand the severity of what you attempted to do?”
She nodded.
“I’m not sure why you would attempt to access your grades, you have high marks in every class. But nonetheless, you must face the consequences of your actions.” He paused, as if for dramatic effect. “You are being dismissed for the remainder of the day and are being assigned to two-hour afterschool detention for five days, starting on Monday.”
His gaze rolled over to Miss Kline. “Miss Kline has agreed to host the detentions for the duration of your punishment. Any failure to comply will result in your immediate suspension from school grounds and recommendation for physical punishment. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Principal Clowen turned his attention to Evelyn’s mother. “Thank you Mrs. Smoak for your support in this matter. You and your daughter are free to leave.”
Evelyn’s mother bowed. “Thank you, Principal Clowen and Miss Kline. I assure you that nothing like this will ever happen again.”
Principal Clowen and Miss Kline nodded politely.
Evelyn’s mother grabbed her tightly by the wrist. “Come on, Evelyn.”
Evelyn was basically yanked out of the office by her mother, who seemed more embarrassed about the whole situation than anything else.
As they passed through the main office Jeanie sneered at Evelyn and said, “I don’t appreciate you lying to me, young lady. That was a mean trick you pulled.”’
Evelyn snapped back at her, “You should’ve known better. It’s 2065, no one sends paper messages anymore.”
Her mother wrenched Evelyn’s arm. “Forgive my daughter.”
Evelyn grunted in frustration, but didn’t say another word.
They were at the front doors and about to exit when Miss Kline called from behind them, her shrill voice as sharp as knife points. “Mrs. Smoak, may I have a brief word with your daughter?”
Evelyn’s mother released her grip on her daughter’s wrist. “Sure.”
Miss Kline stood with her arms crossed behind her back. Evelyn approached her slowly as if she was approaching the seat of a military tribunal.
“Look at me, young lady.” Miss Kline ordered coldly.
Evelyn reluctantly did so. Without saying a word, Miss Kline reached into Evelyn’s sweater pocket and retrieved the empty bottle of oil. She opened it and took a quick whiff before closing it. “Don’t try this again.”
Evelyn nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” then began to turn around.
Miss Kline stopped her. “Evelyn wait, there is one more thing.”
Evelyn sighed to herself and turned back toward her. “Yes?”
Miss Kline lowered her voice a bit and spoke gravely. “Be prepared for the coming week, it will not be as easy as it seems.”
With those unsettling words, she turned from Evelyn and disappeared around the corner. Evelyn’s mother ushered her to their car like she was a prisoner, and slammed the car door after Evelyn climbed in. Evelyn’s mother put the car in drive and they pulled away.
“What were you thinking, Evelyn? You’re lucky you aren’t being taken to the stockade right now.”
“Since when do you care?” Evelyn asked.
Evelyn’s mother glared at her. “I’ve always cared.”
“Really? You have a fine way of showing it.”
Helen gripped the wheel tightly. “Evelyn, you don’t understand.”
“What?” Evelyn snapped. “That I interrupted your day of sipping wine and watching TV? Oh, I’m sorry, Mother.”
“Watch your tone, Evelyn.”
Evelyn turned from her mother and muttered under her breath, “Watch yours, Helen.”
Helen stood on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing, Mother.”
“I don’t want to hear another word from you. Do you understand?”
“You know what I want to understand?” She fired back. “I want to understand how a mother can forget her only daughter’s birthday, or how she doesn’t know after seventeen years, that her daughter doesn’t like spaghetti.” Evelyn could tell that her words were cutting through her mother like knives, but she was unrelenting. She paused and said coldly, “Or how a wife can be so different from her husband.”
Her mother was fuming and on the verge of tears.
“Enough! Let’s just go home.”
“What’s your hurry mother?” Evelyn snapped without hesitat
ion. “The wine and TV will still be there when we get home—”
BAP! Evelyn’s words were cut short by her mother’s open hand. Evelyn recoiled against the door of the car and rubbed her cheek in a mixture of hurt and shock. Her mother stared at her for a moment, in seeming disbelief before she attempted to regain her composure.
Angry tears filled Evelyn eyes as her mother released the brake allowing the car to move again. Not another word was uttered between them the entire ride home. Evelyn could hear her mother’s muffled sobs, but she was too hurt and angry to even glance in her mother’s direction.
When they arrived at the apartment complex, Evelyn threw open the door and sprinted inside. She bolted up the five flights of stairs, through her front door and straight to her room, where she threw herself face first onto her bed. That was when the tears began to flow like rain. She cried and cried and cried. She was mad at her mother, but mad at herself as well for saying such hurtful things, even if they were partially true. She barely left her room the rest of the day.
The next day was Sunday and she slept late. She dreamed of them together again, walking hand and hand through the meadow. He was singing something and Evelyn awoke humming the tune, though she had no idea what the song was. She was smiling too, with no explanation. It was as if she was living another life, a happier life, while she slept.
She rolled over and pulled the sketch from her school bag. “Who are you?” she asked, feeling as if he could help her somehow.
Suddenly her stomach began to growl and she remembered that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous morning and what she did eat, she vomited up. She was not ready to face her mother. She was not ready to apologize but she was starving, so she took a deep breath and headed downstairs.
Her father was gone for work already, and she was surprised that he hadn’t woken her up the night before to talk about what had happened at school. Did he even know?
Her mother was on the couch watching the news. Apparently Evelyn’s mother wasn’t ready to face her either because the TV was blaring. A UNN correspondent was detailing the ongoing search for two internal terrorists suspected in the bombing of a satrapy check point.
Ill-Fated (Ill-Fated Series Book 1) Page 3