by W. J. May
“Yes, thank you, Dean Carter. I appreciate being given the opportunity to finish my high school education here.” She babbled nervously. She continued to look around the room, concentrating on the paintings, probably past deans and headmasters, and not one of them smiling. I bet he fits right in.
The dean harrumphed. “Your parents would’ve wanted you to attend Guilder, so we had to find a way to make this work. It would have been easier, of course, if you had been a boy, but Mother Nature had to have her way.”
Rae stood silent, greatly insulted, but not sure how to respond. Cranky old geezer.
He rested his elbows on the edge of the desk, interlacing his fingers. “Seems the board thinks the school needs to modernize, allow women in.” He harrumphed again. “There was nothing wrong with the system being an all boys’ school. You’d have thought, with all our resources, they’d have built a separate one for females.”
Excuse me? Ouch. Seemed the dean wasn’t too pleased with the new enrollment rules. Rae swallowed, holding back a snide comment about being old-fashioned and chauvinistic. Not a good way to impress the dean and change his mind about girls being allowed on campus. An inner sense told her she didn’t want this man to know how he made her feel. It’d be like giving him ammo or something.
“What do you think of my office, the Round Room?” Dean
Carter leaned back in his chair.
Rae bit her lip as she glanced around again, trying to think of something intelligent to say. “It’s interesting. Is there a reason it’s round or just easier for the builders, back in the day, to keep the inside circular to match the towers?”
“Round rooms were very important to the Catholic church, at least in Wolsey’s time.” He stared down at her. “Do you know who Wolsey was, Ms. Kerrigan?”
“Sure.” Maybe the man also thought females were dense, on top of not good enough for Guilder. “Thomas Wolsey was a Cardinal, and I think he became the Archbishop of York. He’s the guy who helped King Henry the VIII – well, until he couldn’t get King Henry’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon.”
Score one for the GIRL, Rae inwardly cheered.
He snorted “It seems American schooling has taught you a bit of our British history.”
Surprised? Women not equal to men and now he considered America less developed than England? What was this guy smoking? “Actually, my mother and my uncle always had a fascination with the monarchy, especially the Tudor history. I guess the interest got passed down to me.”
Dean Carter leaned forward at the mention of Rae’s mother. “What else did your mother, or your uncle, teach you?”
Common courtesy, politeness, respect…stuff his parents obviously forgot. She shrugged. “Not much. My uncle has the habit of only saying what needs to be said.”
Dean Carter looked like he wanted to push the topic more, but apparently changed his mind. “So, do you have an idea as to the reasoning for this Round Room?”
Rae glanced around and out the window. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Is the other tower an office as well?”
He ignored her question. “The room is round because Wolsey felt these were the safest rooms in the college. Not for architectural reasons but religious. In here, the devil, or his demons, can’t trap you in a corner.”
The last sentence hung in the air. Is that supposed to mean something to me? Rae shifted her weight. What a miserable guy, and he looked like he was only forty. What bug crawled up his ass? It was just a stupid old tower room, not some sacred religious sanctuary. He hadn’t even hung up a cross or crucifix. “Ms Kerrigan, is everything all right?” His concern didn’t sound sincere.
Oops. She must’ve been making some kind of face, probably a scowl. “Fine…sir. I think I’m just a bit jet lagged from my flight.” Rae knew it was a lame excuse, but she wasn’t about to tell him he made her, and probably the entire human race, feel uncomfortable.
“Be sure and rest up. Classes begin Monday. I’d hate for you to get behind even more since you already have quite a bit of catching up to do.” He looked at his watch and stood up. “I have a meeting with a trustee alumnus who likes to give a lot of support to this school.” He began walking toward the door. He turned just before reaching it. “You’re not inked yet, right?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Well, you will be by Christmas. That’s the reason I asked you to come by. There’s a festive dinner with the alumni before the holidays. I guess we’ll have to invite a few female students to it as well. Consider yourself on the list.”
Mortified at the thought of being the freak in a room full of tatùed adults, Rae tried to think of an excuse not to attend. Maybe she could go back to the U.S. a few days early and see her aunt and uncle.
“Relax. Don’t look so terrified.” He shook his head and muttered something that sounded like “women” under his breath. “We invite several of our students each year to attend the dinner. There’s food. You eat and talk to the trustees for an hour. Let them know their money is continuing to be well spent.” He buttoned up his jacket. “Please feel free to stop by any time if you have any questions. Have a good day.”
Like I’m ever going to come back here to see you. I’d rather eat dirt. He pointed with his hand toward the door. Rae noticed his sleeve slide slightly up. She caught a glimpse of his tatù – a hand with an eye inside. She guessed he had the ability to strike fear into the heart of everyone he met. Miserable old git.
“You, too…sir. Have a great day.” She strode to the door. It almost hit her behind on the way out. She quickly smiled at the secretary and headed straight for the stairs, determined to get outside. Rae walked the first few steps and then remembered the competition starting at Aumbry House. She ran down the rest of the way.
Once outside, she took deep breaths to clear her lungs and then continued jogging back to the dorm. She stopped by the little post office for a stamp and dropped the letter from her bag into the red post box inside. Hello Uncle, send answers, she thought as she jogged the rest of the way back to Aumbry House.
Chapter 9
Competition
Loud laughter and chatter greeted Rae as she slipped into the games room. Somebody had drawn a scoreboard on one of the chalk slates, naming the teams junior vs. senior. A snooker game between a pair of seniors against a pair of juniors had just started. Molly, standing beside Brady, threw darts, competing against Andy and twin girls Rae hadn’t met yet. Haley seemed deeply involved in a game of cards against Julian.
“Is there space for one more player in this challenge?” Rae asked to no one in particular.
Everyone paused in their competition to turn and stare. The silence in the room gave Rae an overwhelming sense that she didn’t belong here and made her shift and edge back toward the door. Maybe I’ll give Uncle Argyle a call instead. Just as she was about to cut and run, Andy grinned and waved. Shoot. Saved by a grinning wolf. That can’t be good. Now what?
“I’m, uh, I just need to use the phone. I’ll be right back.” She slipped back out the door as fast as she could. Her heart felt like it had plummeted into her intestines. She’d never fit in here.
The foyer was empty and the pay phone unoccupied. She punched in her uncle’s number, now desperate to hear his voice. She’d have even settled for an answering machine but Aunt Linda refused to use one. Rae tried once more and slowly put the phone back on the receiver. Ah, come on Uncle…I need you. Why won’t you answer? Are you hiding from me or something worse?
Glancing up the stairway, she debated just heading to her room and skipping the competition. Loud laughter and muffled cheers erupted from the games room. Someone hollered, “Nice point, Nic.”
Rae paused, her hand on the banister. She’d never fit in if she didn’t try. With a renewed sense of determination, she changed direction and headed back to the competition. Stepping through the door, she walked straight over to Andy and the twin girls, a smile pasted on her face. They’d moved to the other side of the room, where a game of cards was going on. S
he ignored a loud harrumph coming from the dart area.
“Hiya, I’m Rae.” The girls wore shirts like the old Lavern and Shirley TV show Aunt Linda liked to watch: one was marked with an “N,” the other an “A.” “Hi,” the twins said at the same time.
“This is Nadia and Aidan,” Andy said.
“Cool,” Rae said. “Your names are the same but spelled backward.”
Both girls’ eyebrows shot up. Nadia spoke, “Most people don’t figure that out unless they see our names written down, and even then, hardly anyone notices.”
Rae shrugged and smiled. “I’ve got an uncle who loves to play with words. He’s kinda brushed off on me.” She glanced at the door, wondering if she should try calling him once again. “Are you both here, waiting to see which one of you gets tatùed?”
“We’re already inked, both of us,” Nadia said.
“No way!”
“Totally.” Aidan grinned. “We’ve got the stamp of Morpheus to prove it.”
“Morpheus? I know he’s a god, but which one?”
“According to Greek Mythology, he’s the god of dreams,” Nadia said.
“We can make people dream in their sleep,” Aidan added.
“You both have the same power?” At least Rae wasn’t the only special case in the female department.
“Yeah, except Aidan can make some seriously scary dreams, and I’m much better at the happier ones.”
Andy put his arm around Nadia. “Looks like you’re the gal I need to stick with.” He glanced over at Aidan, slipping his other arm around her shoulder. “Maybe I’d better be nice to you…payback would be a nightmare.”
“Rae Kerrigan!” Haley shouted over by the dart boards. Everyone turned to stare at Rae. “We need a junior to compete.” It seemed like she was trying to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching.
Determined not to be wimpy or shy, Rae strolled over. “I’ll help, but I’ve never played before.”
Riley, leaning against the wall, straightened. “Never played darts? Sounds like you’ve been Americanized.”
Haley snorted.
Rae pushed her shoulders back. If Haley had PMS, that was her problem. “You’ve got topless darts in Britain. If those bimbos can play, so can I.”
“Impressive,” Riley said. “Seems like Kerrigan’s got some guts after all.” He grabbed some darts. “Here. Have a few practice tries, and then you and Haley can square off.”
Rae shrugged. “I’ll try my best.”
The darts were smooth with a grooved end near the tip. They were heavier than Rae thought they’d be. She figured they’d weigh as much as a pen and tried to hold it the same way. Walking to the line, she turned and faced the board.
“Just aim for the red dot in the middle, or the green ring around it,” Riley said.
Haley wrote their names on the little chalkboard beside the board. “We’re playing around the world. You need to hit every number on the board once, plus the bull’s eye.” Haley wrote one to twenty and two bull’s eyes down the board lengthwise. “I’ll keep your score and you do mine.”
“Fine.”
“That way you can’t cheat,” she added loud enough to make people to look their way.
Rae dropped her arm to her side. “I don’t cheat.”
“Like father, like daughter.” Haley shrugged.
What a bitch. “You never even met my dad.” Her uncle’s words pounded inside her head. Rae shook it to clear her thoughts and defend her family. “You’re such an as—”
“Cool it.” Riley stepped forward. “Put your claws away, girls. Just shoot the darts. We don’t want to be here forever.”
“Fine, let’s play.” Rae threw a shot and cringed when the dart made a solid thud into the wall above the board. The next one barely hit the black rim, outside the point range. Closing one eye, her tongue out to the side, she tossed the next one just above the bull’s eye.
“Good shot,” Devon cheered from across the room.
Rae’s mood lightened and she turned, eyes searching for him only to realize that he had actually been encouraging a teammate playing some game on the Wii. Embarrassed, she stepped toward the scoreboard as Haley erased the twenty on the board. She stepped to the line, shoulder shoving Rae as she passed. Ugh! Mean-spirited bitch.
Haley threw two of her darts, each one landing on a number. Rae grabbed the eraser and rubbed the first number off. Double checking the second dart, Rae reached for the two darts and jumped back in surprise when another whizzed by her ear. She ducked low to the ground.
“Oops. My bad,” Haley said loudly with false innocence. “That one slipped. You shouldn’t grab the darts until I’m finished throwing.” She tsked.
If Rae hadn’t shifted to check the last dart, she’d have the last one stuck in her head. She was blistering mad, but she said nothing. I won’t let her get to me. She grabbed her darts and went to the line to take her turn.
The game continued for twenty minutes with Rae falling miserably behind. But when Haley had only the bull’s eye left, Rae managed to hit her remaining numbers and bring the game to a tie. The two went back and forth, aiming for the red dot, both unable to hit it.
“This is taking forever. How about we go one last turn?” Riley said. “You each get one dart. Closest to the bull’s eye wins. Haley, you go first.”
Haley threw, nicking the metal around the center and landing just outside.
Rae set her feet on the line, one slightly in front of the other and closed her left eye, then her right. She moved her arm in practice, following a make-believe arc where the dart would go. Calm, she exhaled and held her breath to stop any movement. Completely focused, she opened her eyes and tossed the dart, knowing, before even releasing, it would stick in the center.
The dart traveled and at the last moment, arced to the left, just outside of Haley’s. Rae opened her mouth about to protest but kept quiet when Riley patted her shoulder, then walked over and high-fived Haley. She stared at the trickster, who wiggled her fingers at her in a wave.
“Nice try,” Haley said. “You lose.”
Riley went over to the team scores and added a point to the seniors.
Rae moved beside Haley, erasing the scores. “You cheated,” she hissed quietly. “You used your tatù.”
Haley covered her heart with both her hands. “I’d never.” She batted her lashes and grinned wickedly. “Can’t even lose fairly, can you?” She clucked and shook her head. “Just like dear ol’ daddy.”
The pounding in her ears grew deafening. Rae wanted to say something snide back to Haley but knew the girl would love that and it would only feed into the situation. She didn’t want to feed anything, she wanted to win, so she knew she had to leave this alone. “Whatever,” she muttered and turned to leave.
Suddenly November seemed a long way off. Once she had her hidden talent, she’d show Haley she wasn’t her father. She just had to be patient.
For the rest of the Sunday afternoon and evening, Rae read in her room. Molly flitted in and out, her mouth never stopping. Rae nodded and responded when needed, which seemed to suit Molly perfectly. Rae was secretly pleased with herself having found a way to “manage” her roomie without too much effort. After a quiet dinner, Rae headed back to the dorm and into bed for an early night, congratulating herself on a day well-spent.
Monday morning, wet drizzle created puddles everywhere. Rae and Molly veered left and right along the sidewalk trying to avoid them. Cool wind rushed against their faces, making them shrug down in their rain slickers and wrap their arms tightly around themselves. Their schedules were identical – morning classes were regular educational courses and afternoon classes were scheduled in the Oratory Building.
The first class of the morning began with Professor Stockheed. He stood at the front of the class, short and slight. Rae sat a few rows back, but closer to the front than the back. No better place than the middle for fitting in.
“People.” His voice sto
pped all the conversation floating around the room. It sounded like it had a hundred different accents, but Rae couldn’t place one of them. “I know you’re excited with the new school year, but we’ve got work to do.” He strolled by each desk and handed out a lined sheet of paper.
Rae watched the professor as he walked down the aisle and continued to speak. Her paper slid along the desk and, without looking, she put her elbow down to stop it from slipping off.
“I’d like each of you to think of the most memorable book you’ve ever read. Tell me the story, without sharing the title or the main character’s names. You’ve got ten minutes to explain it.”
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Rae turned back in her chair, ideas already forming in her mind on how to start the first paragraph. Grabbing a pen from her bag, she went to write her name on the top right corner.
Her hand froze midair.
On the paper in neatly capped black letters lay a note. Rae’s head pounded a delirious rhythm. This couldn’t be good. She glanced around the room, but no one sat watching her. They were all busy writing, heads bent over their work.
Exhaling slowly and deliberately she cringed, not wanting to look down.
“Is something the matter, Ms. Kerrigan?” Professor Stockheed’s voice floated from the back of the room.
“No, sir.” Rae bent down, resting her left arm on the table, elbow bent to cover the paper. Forced to look, she read the note.
KERRIGAN…NOBODY WANTS YOU HERE. NOT AT GUILDER, NOT IN ENGLAND. GO BEFORE SOMETHING HAPPENS TO MORE THAN JUST YOU.
Rae’s stomach dropped into her sneakers. Another Rae-hater. The professor? What did he mean by “more than just you”? Was this the reason she couldn’t reach her uncle? No, I won’t do this, I won’t freak out…
“Five minutes, class.” Stockheed stood by his desk.
Rae spread her hand over the note, her sweaty palms sticking to the paper. With a will of their own, her fingers curled into a fist as anger coursed through her veins. The crinkling noise of the sheet as it crumpled into a ball made the students nearby stare at her. She didn’t care. She hadn’t done anything wrong and these people were still judging her.