Coldhearted (9781311888433)

by Matthews, Melanie

  “But,” Diana countered. “He was shy on the first day of school.”

  Edie shrugged. “Maybe he’s shy and cautious.”

  “Probably,” Madelyn agreed with Edie again.

  The class fell silent as Mr. Ballantine advanced to stand in front of the blackboard. He gave everyone a small smile that said, “I’m friendly, but not that friendly.”

  “Afternoon, everyone,” he greeted in a smooth voice.

  “Afternoon, Mr. B,” the class full of giggling girls chanted in unison.

  Even Diana and Madelyn were getting in on the ogling, paying him full attention and ignoring Edie.

  He went to the blackboard and grabbed a piece of chalk. “Now yesterday we discussed personality disorders, and I’d like to continue that today. We had a brief overview of them, but I’d like to devote our short time this period to schizophrenia.”

  A girl’s hand shot up.

  “Yes, Candie?”

  “That’s the one with hallucinations, right?”

  Mr. Ballantine hesitated, and then said, “Well, hallucinations are just one of the many factors when considering if someone is schizophrenic.”

  “But I remembered what you said yesterday,” Candie said, obviously looking for approval.

  Mr. Ballantine humored her with a smile. “Yes, Candie, that’s excellent you remembered.”

  Candie giggled, ecstatic, and then twirled her pink-dyed hair around her finger, trying to keep Mr. Ballantine’s focus on her. It didn’t work but she kept right on trying, undeterred.

  Another girl’s hand shot up and she didn’t wait to be called on. “Hallucinations are when you see or hear things that aren’t there, right Mr. B?”

  Mr. Ballantine answered her, but Edie couldn’t hear his words. She was having a panic attack, wondering where this lecture was going. Hallucinations? Schizophrenia? It seemed more than just a mere coincidence. Was someone trying to tell her something? Was that what was wrong with her?

  Am I…schizo?

  Edie grasped the scarf and necklace that was encircled around her neck, needing comfort and courage. She immediately calmed and her heart returned to its normal rhythm.

  She felt someone nudging her arm. “Hey, are you all right?” It sounded like Diana.

  Edie looked up to see her and Madelyn, concerned. Then Edie turned and saw that the whole class was looking at her, even Mr. Ballantine. So…he was finally making eye contact. Kudos to him, she thought sarcastically.

  “Edwina, are you all right?” he asked, concerned.

  “It’s Edie,” Edie corrected him, when some of the girls started to giggle.

  He gave her a small smile. “Edie, if you need to get some fresh air or—”

  “No, I’m fine.” Edie returned his smile. “Really,” she assured, lying.

  Mr. Ballantine nodded and turned toward the blackboard, beginning his lesson.

  Edie was forced to tune him out when Madelyn leaned toward her. “Are you really okay?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, why, what happened?” Edie asked, concerned.

  Diana furrowed her brow. “You were shaking.”

  “And mumbling something,” Madelyn added.

  Edie shook her head. “I don’t remember any of that.”

  Diana patted Edie’s hand. “It’s okay.”

  “Yeah,” Madelyn added, patting Edie’s other hand.

  Edie forced a smile to show them that she was all right. They believed it and turned their attention toward Mr. Ballantine. Edie followed and watched him write the word schizophrenia on the board, then a few more words, and finally hallucinations.

  She tried to remain calm and copied his lecture into her notebook. When she reached the end of the page, and then looked over what she’d written, she stifled a scream, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself.

  She hadn’t been writing the teacher’s lecture notes.

  Disturbingly, she’d written, over and over:

  You’re going crazy.

  It was like Mrs. Featherstone all over again with Fat Girl. They had no intention of writing such horrible, damaging self-indictments. Yet…they had. And after, no memory of what they’d written.

  But Edie did remember one thing: while she’d been writing, her hand had been flowing too smoothly across the page, too fast; she hadn’t any control over her movements. Someone else had written those words. Not her. But…maybe she had written them.

  Maybe I’m schizophrenic.

  Or was writing mean, albeit meaningful words, over and over, and not remembering, a symptom of a split personality? Did she have someone else inside her head?

  Edie looked up to see Mr. Ballantine writing down tonight’s homework assignment. She glanced at the clock; there were only a few more minutes left before class ended.

  And she hadn’t written down a single word from his lecture.

  She was too embarrassed to ask Diana and Madelyn for their notes. She closed her notebook, not wanting them to see how crazy she was. She didn’t want to lose their friendship. She’d just met Diana and Madelyn, but they meant so much to her.

  When the bell rang, Edie gave Diana and Madelyn a smile, as if nothing were wrong.

  “We’ll walk you to your next class,” Diana offered.

  “Edie, can you stay a moment?” Mr. Ballantine called out.

  “Ooh, lucky girl,” Madelyn said, winking.

  Edie waved goodbye to Diana and Madelyn, and then had to endure the hard stares of the other girls, who were clearly jealous of her “alone time” with the hot teacher.

  When the classroom was empty, Mr. Ballantine made sure the door was wide open, and then came over to where she was sitting, alone. He stood a few feet back, wary, as if she were going to lunge after him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, staring into his dark, gray eyes.

  “Oh, nothing, Edie, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just wanted to let you know I’m aware of your recent losses. I’m sorry. Also, if you ever need to talk, my door is always open.”

  “Are you…a qualified psychiatrist or something?”

  He smiled, embarrassed. “Uh, no, but I have training. I mean, I’m not going to diagnose you with anything. I can’t prescribe you anything. I’m just offering an ear, if you want to talk, about anything.”

  “Oh,” Edie said, not sure.

  He took a tentative step forward, testing the boundaries. “I heard about Mary, I mean Mrs. Featherstone today. I watched over her class until she came back.”

  “Oh, you’re Russell?” Edie blushed. “Sorry, Mr. B.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all right. We’re not a military school. But…don’t call me Russell in front of the other students. They’ll get…ideas.”

  Edie nodded, understanding.

  “So…can you tell me what happened with Mrs. Featherstone?” Russell asked. “I’ve heard rumors, but I don’t know the facts. You and Mason Fenwick stayed with her until Principal Jennings arrived, is that correct?”

  Edie hesitated, not wanting to betray Mrs. Featherstone, but then she decided Russell was an okay guy. “She wrote ‘fat girl’ over and over on the blackboard during class. The students laughed at her. Mason and I stayed with her. I…erased what she’d written; I didn’t want anyone to see the…evidence. In the nurse’s station, Mason and I overheard…” Edie trailed off, not wanting to admit that she and Mason had eavesdropped.

  Russell took another step forward. “Heard what, Edie?”

  Edie shook her head. “Nothing.”

  He reached out and touched her hand, but then quickly pulled away, realizing his mistake.

  “It’s okay,” he coaxed. “You won’t get into trouble.”

  Edie sighed, and then told him what she’d overheard.

  Russell thought on what she’d said, and then divulged, “Mary has always seemed fine. Thin, but fine. We get along well. I know her family; they’ve been in Grimsby for generations.” He paused, and then continued, “I didn’t realize she’s on
antidepressants…or hasn’t been on them, I should say.”

  “In your expertise could the fact that she wasn’t taking the medication lead her into some sort of trance, writing ‘fat girl,’ over and over, even though those words were a reminder of the pain in her past?”

  He took another step forward, and then sat in Diana’s desk, across from Edie. He was getting bolder. “Well, I’m not an expert, so I’m at a loss about her behavior. However medication can have side effects. Antidepressants, when suddenly stopped, can do unpredictable things to people. Everyone is different, I think. And considering the fact that she barely eats, well, malnutrition, perhaps dehydration too, and the sudden cessation of brain-altering medications may have led her to pull a painful memory from her past, and put in on display, as she did.” He leaned forward and furrowed his brow. “You said she had no memory of this event?”

  Edie leaned back, not wanting to arouse anyone’s suspicion. “Yeah, she didn’t remember writing it. Just like...” Edie quickly shut her mouth, about to say, just like me.

  Russell caught it. “What’s wrong, Edie? Just like what?”

  Edie shook her head, a bit too fast, and got a head rush. She clamped the heel of her hand against her forehead, as if she were having an ice cream headache, and massaged it.

  “Nothing, Russell.” She lowered her hand. “I’m just…I need to get to class.”

  She shot off her seat, which exacerbated the pain inside her head, but she managed to stay on her feet, and turned to leave.

  Over her shoulder, she said, “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, really. See you tomorrow.”

  “You forgot your notebook,” he reminded her, as he stood up, holding it in his possession.

  Edie wanted to snatch it from his hand, but she remained calm and retrieved it, placing it inside her backpack for safekeeping. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t tell anyone but I plan on having a pop quiz tomorrow on today’s lecture notes.”

  Edie frowned. “Um…Russell?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I kind of…well, I may have missed some of your lecture.”

  Well, really all of it.

  Russell gave her a smile. “You weren’t paying attention?” he teased. “I can honestly say I don’t have that problem with my students. It’s just the opposite, in fact. They pay too much attention.” He shook his head. “They even notice when I switch colognes, for crying out loud.”

  Edie giggled. “Yeah, they seem very…attentive.”

  “Not you, though,” he said, staring into her eyes. “Or are you just very good at hiding it?”

  Edie furrowed her brow. “Hiding what?”

  Russell’s face was changing. It was becoming darker, masked in shadow, and then he advanced, pursuing her. His face was no longer his, but of someone who she didn’t recognize, until a switch flipped, and he looked like his former self again.

  He took a step back, confused, the shadow gone. “What were we talking about?”

  “Uh…the pop quiz tomorrow.” Edie was surprised that she could even speak after…well…she didn’t know what she’d seen. “I need the lecture notes, if you have them,” she went on, hoping to jog his memory.

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, remembering.

  He went to his desk, shuffled through some papers, then came back with a stack, and handed them to Edie. She pushed them into her notebook.

  “Make sure I get those back,” he said in warning. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I favor you over the others.”

  “I understand.”

  Russell and Edie had a secret. She wondered if they’d have any more.

  “Well…I think I’ll go now.”

  “Remember, Edie, if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.”

  Edie just gave him a nod and left. Outside in the hall, she hugged a wall, and breathed in and out. Before leaving, she’d been tempted to show Russell the page in her notebook but had chickened out. What would he think of her? Would he call her crazy? Would he notify Principal Jennings, Uncle Landon? What if they hauled her off to some mental hospital?

  Then again, maybe I belong there.

  She began to think of Grimsby Sanatorium, where Jules wanted her to go on a ghost hunt. What if she went there and never came out? What if ghostly nurses and doctors strapped her down onto a bed, and then injected her with ghostly needles? She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest.

  Despite her fears, she felt like she couldn’t disappoint Jules. And she was mildly curious if there were actual ghosts about. Yet she hadn’t totally made up her mind. Mason didn’t want her to go but it had nothing to do with the paranormal activity that Edie may possibly encounter; it had to do with Edie being arrested for breaking-and-entering; if indeed Jules and her Grimsby Paranormal Society friends were going to commit such a felony.

  She also couldn’t turn away Russell, who seemed genuinely concerned for her. She wanted to talk about what she’d written, what it meant, and how to stop it. Maybe he’d keep her secret. She knew that Diana and Madelyn would too, but she wouldn’t dare show them her notebook. If Russell wanted to keep a sizable distance that was fine but not Diana and Madelyn. She couldn’t bear the stretch of miles it would inevitably produce from their lost friendships. Mason could never know, either. His loss would be the most damaging of all. She’d be heartbroken.

  Edie went back into Russell’s classroom, still empty. She assumed this was his planning period. He looked up from his desk and smiled. The look on his face implied he was glad to see her again, so soon.

  “Yes, Edie?”

  “I want to talk but not now. And not at school,” she added.

  She couldn’t take the risk that they wouldn’t be overheard.

  Russell thought on Edie’s proposal, as he ran his fingers through his hair. Finally, he said, “Well, all right. I’d say ‘somewhere public,’ but that’d raise suspicions too. How about at your house? With your uncle there, of course,” he added.

  Edie grimaced. “Isn’t that worse than somewhere public?”

  “Well, I could say I was having a meeting with your uncle to discuss your studies.”

  Could say? This was a bad idea, yet...

  Resigned, she wrote down her address and cell number on a slip of paper, and then handed it to him. “Tonight, okay?”

  He pocketed the paper and smiled. “It’s a date.” He immediately frowned and started waving his hands. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. Sorry.” He stopped waving and put his hands into his pockets. She could see one hand, caressing the slip of paper that she’d just given him. “I’ll, uh, be there. Around six?”

  Edie nodded, agreeing, and then left the classroom.

  Oh, boy! What have I gotten myself into?

  Edie had a horrible feeling that she’d set in motion a series of unfortunate events.

  Chapter 8

  It was Edie’s last class of the day, Spanish.

  She’d been expecting it to sail smoothly—as her previous two classes, economics and American government, had done—but her hopes were crushed when she spotted Rochelle and Ravenna, gossiping in the back of the classroom. The only available desk was right in front of them.

  Great.

  “That seat’s taken,” Rochelle snapped.

  “Yeah, loser,” Ravenna added.

  Edie ignored them and sat anyway, as she held onto Mason’s scarf, seeking strength and courage. Yet she didn’t feel any better. In fact, she felt cold and sick. A dark shadow seemed to be looming over her, terrorizing her. She dared to look up and realized it was only Rochelle. But she was scary too.

  She was eyeing Edie’s scarf through two narrow slits. “Take it off,” she ordered.

  Edie got mad, possessive of Mason and anything he would give her.

  “No. It’s mine.”

  Ravenna joined in. “Rochelle said: Take. It. Off!”

  By now, they were the main attraction. Every student was staring at them, waiting to see who would throw the first
punch. Edie kept praying for the teacher to arrive, but she was devastatingly late.

  Rochelle snapped her fingers at Ravenna, never looking away from Edie. “I can fight my own battles, Rave.”

  Ravenna fell back against her desk chair like she’d been slapped.

  Edie’s neck suddenly jerked, and she realized it was Rochelle, trying to pull Mason’s scarf off her. “Hey, stop it!” Edie yelled, tugging the scarf back. “What’s your malfunction?”

  Rochelle wouldn’t let go of the scarf. “I told you Edwina if you’re going to play, you’d better be prepared to get dirty.”

  A cold blast of fury seemed to erupt all around Edie, and before she knew it, Mason’s scarf was gone from her neck. Edie thought it’d been Rochelle, victorious, but she’d never touched it. In fact, the scarf was moving on its own toward Rochelle’s neck, where it wound itself tight, choking her.

  Ravenna shot off her seat, trying to rescue Rochelle. The rest of the students sat paralyzed, watching in horror as Rochelle was being strangled to death. Despite not liking Rochelle, Edie couldn’t sit idly by and watch her struggle, so she leapt up too and helped Ravenna.

  Edie felt like she was fighting against some unseen contender, trying to save Rochelle’s life. Finally, Ravenna and Edie were able to free Rochelle; Ravenna had been holding her friend, keeping her calm, while Edie had been unwinding the scarf. It was in shreds now and Edie held it in her hands, wondering how it’d magically made it from her neck to Rochelle’s. And why it’d wanted to kill her.

  “Are you okay?” Edie asked Rochelle.

  Rochelle was trembling with her hand around her throat, massaging it. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Edie with absolute hate. “You,” she said in a scratchy voice, pointing an accusatory finger at Edie. “You tried to kill me.”

  Edie shook her head violently. “No, no, I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, I saw you!” Ravenna lied, expressing her loyalty. “You tried to kill my friend!” She turned toward the class. “You all saw it, didn’t you? That bitch tried to kill Rochelle!”

  Edie’s mouth was agape, shocked. No one came to her rescue. No one stood up for her.

  “I didn’t!” Edie yelled.