She Was the Quiet One

by Michele Campbell

  She was in the middle of a bad dream, being chased down a long hallway, when she felt a presence in the room and opened her eyes. Groggy with fatigue and stress, not sure if she was awake or in a lucid dream, she called out for Skyler, forgetting that Skyler was gone. There was no answer.

  Rose turned toward the wall, and slept again. A minute passed or five or ten—she couldn’t’ve said. She became aware that someone was standing over her bed, and rolled over to see a looming shape in the dark. This was real. She felt a hand beneath her blanket, sat up and screamed.

  “Shut up!” the intruder said.

  It was Bel. She’d grabbed something from on top of the blanket. Rose’s laptop! Rose reached out to snatch it back. In the dark, she missed, and Bel ran out the door, taking it with her.

  “What the hell!” Rose said.

  What did Bel think she was doing? Stumbling out of bed, Rose got tangled in her blankets and stumbled, landing on her hands and knees with a thud. Why would Bel take her laptop? Did she just hate Rose so much that she wanted to sabotage her? All her work was on there. The French flash cards she’d made, the social studies essay that she’d spent all of yesterday afternoon working on. It was due third period; she had to get it back. Barefoot, Rose ran after her sister. In the hall, she saw the door to the landing swinging shut. Bel was heading for her own room on the third floor. Rose sprinted up the stairs after her, blood pounding in her ears, full of rage. She ran down the hall, and heard the door to Bel’s room slam. It must be three a.m. She’d wake up all of Moreland. Rose got to the door of Bel and Emma’s room, panting. Rose shoved the door open. Bel stood at her desk with Rose’s laptop open in front of her, paging through e-mails. She looked up at Rose. In the glow from the laptop, Rose saw sheer hatred on her sister’s face.

  “Where is it?” Bel said.

  “Where’s what?”

  “You know. You fucking know.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rose said, though in that instant she realized she did. The picture of Bel and Donovan in the laundry room—that’s what Bel wanted. But why was she coming for it now, when Rose had told her about it more than a month ago? Okay, maybe not told her, but heavily implied.

  “Yes, you do so. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Bel said.

  “That’s my laptop. I want it back. Give it to me.”

  “Come and get it,” Bel said, stiffening like she was preparing for battle.

  Emma sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Ask her,” Rose said, advancing on her sister. “She stole my laptop. Give it back, Bel!”

  “You followed me, you bitch. Where is that picture? You delete it right now or I swear, I’ll kill you.”

  “Jesus, calm down both of you, before someone hears. Do you want to get in trouble?” Emma said.

  Rose reached for the laptop just as Bel snatched it off the desk. Rose grabbed the edge of the laptop, and for a moment they both held on to it, wrestling back and forth. Emma jumped out of bed, her mouth falling open in shock.

  “Stop it. What is wrong with you?” Emma said.

  Rose managed to wrest the laptop from Bel’s grip, and bent over it, hugging it to her chest. Bel lashed out with her fist just as Emma stepped in between them, catching Emma on the side of the face.

  “Ugh, you hit me. Are you crazy?” Emma said, her hand flying to her eye.

  “Get out of the way,” Bel said. “Give me that!”

  Bel grabbed Rose by the hair. Rose yelped and lashed out blindly with one hand, gripping the laptop tightly with the other. Without warning, Bel kneed her in the stomach, and Rose doubled over in pain, retching. She let go of the laptop, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. Bel snatched at it, and Rose fell on top of her to stop her from running away with it. Bel grunted and writhed, trying to throw her off.

  “Give it back or I’ll kill you!” Rose said, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to contain her sister.

  “This is fucking crazy. I’m going to get Donovan,” Emma said, her hand still over her eye.

  “No!” Bel said. “Wait. I’ll stop. I’m stopping.”

  Bel went limp beneath Rose. Rose didn’t trust Bel, and stayed put.

  “Get off me, you cow. I can’t breathe,” Bel said.

  “Give me my laptop, and I’ll get off you,” Rose demanded.

  “If you want the laptop, give me the picture.”

  “What is she talking about?” Emma said.

  “I don’t know. I don’t care. I hope she dies down there.”

  “Come on, Rose. Get off me, please,” Bel pleaded.

  “Here, give me the laptop,” Emma said, holding out her hand. “I’m a neutral party.”

  “Emma’s not neutral,” Bel said.

  “Do you want me to let you go, or not?” Rose said. “Give it to Emma.”

  Slowly, Bel pushed the computer out from under her stomach. Emma leaned down and snatched it up, retreating a few feet, so she stood next to the door.

  “Now, you both behave, or I’m going to get Donovan,” Emma said, one hand on the doorknob.

  “I don’t care if you do,” Rose said. “She’s the one who’s freaked out about that.” But she rolled off her sister and sat up. She was exhausted, and tired of this folly.

  They both got to their feet, breathing heavily, each watching the other warily.

  “What is this picture that Bel wants so badly?” Emma asked Rose.

  “A picture of her and Donovan. It proves they’re having an affair.”

  “Oh my God. For real? I thought that was just malicious gossip,” Emma said.

  “It is gossip. It’s a lie!” Bel said.

  “If it’s a lie, then why do you care so much about the picture?” Rose demanded.

  “It’s just a picture of me getting into his car, but you’re going to twist it, and make it into something shameful. People are stupid enough to believe you.”

  “What? It is not a picture of you getting into his car,” Rose said.

  “You were getting into Donovan’s car?” Emma asked, looking shocked.

  “Yes, it is. You followed me,” Bel said.

  “I admit I followed you. But the picture’s of the two of you in the laundry room, before Christmas break,” Rose said.

  Bel went pale. “Shit. You really have that? I didn’t believe you,” she said.

  “I told you. But it’s not on my laptop. It never was.”

  “Where is it? You have to delete it,” Bel said. Her eyes looked wild, and her fists were clenched.

  “I refuse to. That picture is my leverage to get you to stop the horrible thing you’re doing,” Rose said.

  “Why do you give a shit what I do, Rose?”

  “I don’t. But I care if you ruin Mrs. Donovan’s life. She’s a wonderful person, who’s been kind to me, and I won’t let you hurt her. If you don’t break things off with him, I’m going public with that picture.”

  “No. I don’t believe you. If you were going to do that, you would’ve done it by now,” Bel said, a desperate look in her eyes. “Right?”

  “Maybe. But I’m not the only one who has that picture.”

  “Somebody else has it? Who? Is it you?”

  Bel turned on Emma, who raised her free hand to proclaim innocence. “First I’m hearing of any of this.”

  “Then who? Please tell me. I’m begging you. Rose, you can’t go public. It would be a huge mistake. It’ll ruin everything.”

  “God, this is just like the slipper thing,” Rose said. “You do something completely evil, then cry bloody murder that I told, like the whole problem was my fault.”

  “Who else has the picture? Did they follow me in the woods today? Tell me, you have to tell me,” Bel said, distraught.

  “Now you want me to tell, after months of calling me a tattle? No way,” Rose declared triumphantly. “You’re screwed, Bel. The whole world is going to know about you and Heath Donovan, and there’s nothing you can do
to stop it.”

  38

  Transcript of Witness Interview conducted by Lieutenant Robert Kriscunas, State Police—Major Crime Unit, and Detective Melissa Howard, Odell NH, PD, with Miss Emma Kim (continued).

  [INTERVIEW RESUMES]

  Kriscunas: Are you ready to proceed, Miss Kim?

  Kim: Yes. I called my mom to ask for advice. And I’m sorry, but she told me I need to be careful here. Not to get mixed up in things that are over my head.

  Kriscunas: What does that mean? You don’t want to talk to us anymore?

  Kim: I can tell you the basics of what happened in this fight, but I’m not going to get into what it was about.

  Kriscunas: I’m afraid I don’t understand.

  Kim: They were fighting over something that—that’s just very sensitive, and my mom told me to mind my own business about it, okay? She says she doesn’t want me gossiping about people in authority, that I could get in trouble. The whole school knows about this, anyway. An entire institution is keeping this secret. Why should it be up to me to tell?

  Kriscunas: Tell us what? It’s hard for me to evaluate your position, if I don’t know what ballpark we’re playing in.

  Howard: Look, Bob, we know what this is about.

  Kriscunas: We do?

  Howard: Yes. Based on what Miss Kim said earlier, right before she went to call her mom, this fight between Bel and Rose was over Heath Donovan. The headmaster. Am I right?

  Kim: I want to take that back. I just don’t want to go there. Go ask someone else. Ask a faculty member. Ask Mrs. Donovan. I’m telling you, everybody knows about this, including her. But here’s what I am willing to tell you about the fight. It was around three o’clock in the morning. I had a French test at eight o’clock, and I got woken up by the Enright twins—in my room—shouting and having an actual, violent physical altercation. They were struggling over a laptop. Apparently, Bel snuck into Rose’s room while she was sleeping to steal it. Rose woke up and chased her back to our room, where they fought over it.

  Howard: Why would Bel take Rose’s laptop? Didn’t she have her own?

  Kim: She did, but there was something on Rose’s laptop that Bel wanted.

  Howard: What was it?

  Kim: A photo.

  Howard: A photo, having to do with Heath Donovan?

  Kim: I can’t talk about that.

  Kriscunas: Were they fighting with words, or are we talking about actual violence?

  Kim: Violence, yes. When I tried to intercede, Bel punched me right in the face. You see this? A black eye. It’s faded now, but it was pretty bad. I’ve never been hit before in my life. Can you believe that, here at Odell? What a nutjob.

  Howard: Bel was the aggressor in this fight?

  Kim: Bel started it, by stealing Rose’s laptop. When Rose tried to get it back—which frankly was justified, I mean, her schoolwork was on there—Bel got violent. She tried to punch Rose, and ended up hitting me in the face. Then she—I don’t remember exactly, but I think she punched Rose in the stomach. Then the two of them were down on the floor rolling around, wrestling over it. Rose ended up on top. She was sitting on Bel. Rose is—I won’t say she’s heavy, but she’s a solid girl. Bel kept saying she was choking, she couldn’t breathe, and Rose said, “I hope she dies down there.” It was insane. I got them to stop, but it wasn’t easy. I mean, these girls were threatening to kill each other, and to me, it sounded like they meant it.

  39

  From: Anonymouse@yahoo.com

  To: HD1234@yahoo.com

  January 31 at 11:46 p.m.

  A fun pic for you!

  Hi Heathie. It’s your little mouse friend again. Told you I have eyes and ears everywhere. Some of them happen to be kickass photographers. I hope you enjoy this great pic of Bel Enright getting into your car. Personally I love the framing of this bc you can see Bel’s face and your license plate at the same time. Naughty naughty. More to come.

  Love,

  Anonymouse

  From: HD1234@yahoo.com

  To: Anonymouse@yahoo.com

  February 1 at 12:11 a.m.

  A fun pic for you!

  I’ll ask you again. What do you want? If you want to make a deal, tell me. Better yet, come out and meet me right now. If not, I’ll come looking for you, and that won’t be a happy ending.

  From: Anonymouse@yahoo.com

  To: HD1234@yahoo.com

  February 1 at 12:14 a.m.

  A fun pic for you!

  Yeah, nice try. Meet you, alone, at night—I’m not stupid. You’ll be hearing from someone soon with my demands. They won’t say it’s the mouse, but you’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.

  40

  February

  Bel was crossing the Quad, heading to her fifth-period class in Founders’ Hall, when a text from Heath lit up her phone. It was a raw afternoon, blustery, with temperatures in the thirties and ice-blue skies. She stopped in the middle of the path to read the text, as students streamed by her on all sides.

  “I need to see you. As soon as you can get away, now if possible,” the text read.

  It was exactly the sort of message Bel dreamed of getting from Heath, full of desire and urgency, all the more precious since he’d gotten paranoid about texting her recently. It made her heart skip a beat and her breath come faster. She was surprised that he’d violated his own rule, but she was too thrilled to question it. She immediately wrote back.

  Just say when ♥♥♥ B

  ASAP at the trailhead parking lot, came the reply, within seconds.

  That would mean cutting fifth period, which would earn her an attendance demerit. Bel didn’t really care about that. But meeting at the parking lot was a bad idea. Rose knew that was their spot. She’d followed them there before, and had e-mailed her a picture to prove it. Not that Bel planned to tell Heath about that. It would upset him too much.

  Why pkg lot—r we driving? she asked.

  No—need to see you ASAP, office too risky, he replied.

  There were other places they could see each other that would work just as well, and involve less risk of being seen. They could meet at Lost Lake, at the beautiful hikers’ shelter that faced the water. It was built of bleached cedar, and smelled of pine. Bel loved that place, and often daydreamed of spending time alone with Heath there.

  Pkg lot 2 visible. How abt Lost Lake shelter? 15 mins, she texted.

  He said yes, and her heart leapt. Bel shoved her phone in her jacket pocket and continued toward Founders’. Once everybody else was in class, she’d slip out the back door and into the woods. She slowed her pace, pretending to stare at her phone, letting the other kids pass her by.

  “Bel! Mia bella,” a voice called from behind her.

  She turned. Zachary Cuddy, just what she needed.

  “Hey, Zach,” she said, her lack of enthusiasm apparent in her voice.

  “Where’re you headed?” he asked, smiling ingratiatingly.

  “History class. You?”

  “English. I have Renfrew. She’s a bore,” he said.

  “I know. You told me that before.”

  “Did I? Hey, we should hang out. Are you busy after class?”

  “Since when do you want to hang out with me? I though you hated me because of the Snapchat. Remember?”

  “I didn’t get in trouble, neither did you. It’s water under the bridge. And there’s something urgent I need to discuss with you.”

  “It’s not a good time.”

  He looked positively stricken, way more than was justified by her refusal. She was tired of being hounded by Zach, but he never seemed to get the message. They’d reached the grand limestone steps that led up to Founders’ Hall. Bel mounted them alongside Zach, pretending for his benefit that she was going to class. They joined the crowd flooding through the enormous double doors. At this rate, she would be late to meet Heath.

  “Gotta go, Zach,” Bel said as they entered the echoing marble foyer.

  She waved dismissively, marching
toward the back of the building. But he was right beside her.

  “Wait a minute, where are you going?” Zach said. “You’re in Watson’s history class, right? That’s on the third floor.”

  “How do you even know that?”

  “You must’ve told me at some point.”

  “No, I didn’t. Back off.”

  “I’m just curious as to why you’re heading in the wrong direction.”

  “I’m going to the bathroom, okay? Satisfied? You’re creeping me out.”

  “Sorry.”

  The fifth-period bell rang.

  “Did you hear that? You’d better get to class,” Bel insisted.

  “You should, too. You’ll be late,” Zach said.

  “Jesus. Get lost! Do I have to scream in order to get rid of you?”

  “Fine,” he muttered, finally turning around and leaving her alone.

  Bel lurked near the girls’ bathroom, waiting until the halls emptied and fell silent. Then she ducked out the back door and ran to the woods. The trees closed around her, and she breathed easier. It was dark in there, and peaceful, smelling of rain and decaying leaves, and she was going to see the one person in the world who cared about her. Bel had a secret fantasy about running away with Heath. If she told him about it, he’d just get solemn and condescending, and explain how it could never be. So she kept it to herself. In her fantasy, they were outlaws. They stole an old camper, and drove on back roads all the way to California. She showed him the places she had loved as a child—the beach, the mountains—and they slept under the stars, and cooked over campfires. But her dream would never come true. It was too perfect.

  At the sign at the crossroads, she went left. The path was narrow and uneven, and her knee ached. But soon she emerged into the wide meadow surrounding Lost Lake. The path cut through a flat, open area of sodden grass, running down to the water’s edge, where it continued around the lake’s perimeter. The shelter where she would meet Heath was visible now in the distance, surrounded by a beautiful stand of white birch trees. She hadn’t been there in a while. Last time, the lake was frozen solid, but with this weird thaw they were having, it had started to melt. Ice bobbed and floated in thick snow-covered chunks.