by Rachael Craw
It surprises me to see her at school, but what had I expected? She’d refused to lay charges. Only the attack on Kitty had received any press. Maybe no one at school, beyond Kaylee’s close circle of friends, had any clue what Richard did to her. Her brown eyes run over me in open suspicion, as if she senses the vein of my thoughts. I try to smile, but she looks away, her lips compressing like she tastes something sour.
I know I’m giving off a misfit vibe, but I don’t have the energy to be on point and play nicey-nicey at the same time, especially with someone so overtly hostile.
Kitty turns to include me in the huddle with a look that says, please try. “Told you about Evie boarding with us this year.” She keeps to the script she laboured in her text messages and emails. “Kept me sane, stuck at home without you lot.”
I nod mechanically and try to smile. None of them seem convinced.
“You know Lila and Imogen, but I don’t think you’ve met Kaylee.” She places her hand on the gorgeous, caramel-skinned girl. Kaylee swings her hair over her shoulder, nods brusquely and I nod back.
Lila, however, gives me a genuine smile. “You into debating, Evie?”
My brain blanks.
“Crumbs.” Kitty laughs. “Give the newbie five minutes to acclimatise.”
Lila grins. “I already signed you up, Kit.”
“Typical,” Kitty says.
I hadn’t given any thought to Kitty’s compulsive need to join clubs, committees and teams. “Are you sure you want to be making commitments?”
Kitty glares at me. Lila frowns. Kaylee scowls and Imogen stares.
“I think my commitments will be just fine,” Kitty says, her smile as stiff as wood.
SUSPECTS
We make our way up to a laboratory on the second storey of the north wing, the home of advanced placement chemistry. I hitch my book bag up my shoulder, wrinkling my nose at the faint whiff of ammonia. My pins and needles zap at the chemical scent and I scan the room, ready to pin guilt on anyone who looks at Kitty twice.
“Come on.” Kitty nudges me, and I realise too late she’s heading for the first row. Kaylee takes the stool by the window and diplomatic Kitty sits in the middle. It leaves me with the aisle seat. Not good. I would have much preferred the back row for the best vantage point.
“Do we have to sit here?”
The desks further back are already filling. It will be awkward swapping now, but I hate the idea of people sitting behind us, out of my line of sight.
“Oh.” Kitty swivels, trying to find a compromise.
Kaylee flares her nostrils like I’ve fouled the air.
I look her square in the face. “Can I sit there?” I know it came out more like, “move it, now” but I don’t care.
When she realises I’m not about to explain, she purses her lips, tucks her chin back and gets to her feet, edging past me like I have leprosy.
Kitty makes a meal of pulling out her textbooks, letting her hair swing past to hide her furious pink face. I catch her eye, mouth “sorry”, and take the empty stool. I know I’ve just blown it with Kaylee, but with my back to the window I can see everybody and still take notes. Though I hate causing even a low-scale scene, the vantage point makes it worth it. I can live without popularity.
As we wait for the teacher, several more students come to lean on the desk and chat with Kitty or worse still, hug her. They ask if she remembers anything from the attack and whether the police have made any progress and Kitty supplies the same generic answers, no and not really. I sit strung like a bow, prickling with static while Kitty makes a point of not introducing me. I pretend not to notice, flipping blindly through my textbook, ignoring the whispered speculation about who I am and how I know her.
Chemistry depresses me almost as much as social suicide. By nature, I gravitate more towards the arts but my new subject list, advanced placement everything – all Kitty’s classes – has only two redeeming features: English and phys. ed. Even the brief introduction given by the charming old chemistry teacher has me breaking out in a cold sweat. When class finishes, I trail behind Kitty and Kaylee, feeling seasick.
“Miss Everton.”
I stop in front of the whiteboard. “Mr Thomas?”
Kitty says something I don’t catch as she heads to the door and Mr Thomas shuffles out from behind his desk. The top of his head barely reaches my shoulder and I try not to look at the long wisps of his eyebrows. “I just wanted to welcome you properly.” His smile congests the grooves of his face. “You must belong to either April or Miriam Everton.”
It’s like tripping into a freezing pool. “Um, April, yeah.”
He chuckles. “Of course, of course. April and Kitty’s mother … Barbara what was she then? Dearbourne! That’s right. What a twosome.”
I pray he doesn’t know about Mom’s illness, and that he won’t ask how she is.
“Forgive me,” he says, “but the likeness is quite something. You have her eyes.”
I don’t know what to say, pressure building in my chest.
“Well, my dear. If you’re anything like your mother, I expect we’ll enjoy an excellent year together.”
My stomach sinks, knowing I’ll disappoint him. I doubt that being a year ahead at a middle-of-the-road state school will help me be a high achiever at Gainsborough Collegiate. I wish my mutant DNA would fast track the “getting smarter” part that Miriam mentioned.
Mr Thomas returns to his desk. “Come and see me if you need help with anything.”
“Um, thanks, sir.” Eyes stinging, I stumble out into the corridor and freeze in the flow of traffic. I can’t see her. More terrifying than that, I can’t feel her. I’ve lost the tether. A chill grips me and my hearing dims.
Please don’t let this be happening now.
How can I possibly lose her already? I’m useless – worse than useless. I clutch my watch. Should I push the alert? I imagine the terror I’d cause and move through the crowd, pins and needles spiking with every bump and brush of elbow or shoulder. The end of the corridor opens onto another identical corridor. Almost hyperventilating, I stand at the T-section, scanning each direction, lost without the tether to anchor me.
“Evie, right?” The voice comes from around knee level. A dark-haired boy crouches on the floor, looking harried as he gathers books and folders, rescuing them from passing feet. The helpful guy from the Governor’s Ball. He squints up at me with his startling hazel eyes. “You lost?”
“Oh, hey.” His name? Andrew? Adam? “Aiden! Yeah – no – can’t find Kitty. She’s supposed to be showing me round.” I search the crowd, digging my nails into the strap of my shoulder bag, the muscles in my legs pinching. Delayed social cues kick in and I realise I should help and I get down beside him to grab a sheaf of notes before they’re crushed.
“Thanks.” He adds them to the stack and stands up, shuffling the chaotic heap, then nods past my shoulder. “She went into the girls’ restroom with Kaylee. You okay?”
The pull of the tether returns as soon as I know where she is, a painful reminder of how unreliable my sensitivity is and how desperately I want it to be strong and sure. The bandwidth crackles and I feel almost dizzy with relief. “Sure. Just … you know … it’s all pretty overwhelming.”
“I remember.” He balances the load in one arm and smothers a yawn with his free hand. “I only came here in my junior year; took me the whole first semester to find my way around.”
He seems like a nice guy but he’s on my list. He knew exactly where Kitty was and the shadows under his eyes pique my suspicion. Maybe bloody nightmares and plotting Kitty’s murder keeps him awake at night. “You look exhausted.”
He shrugs. “What happened to Burton Central?”
I watch him and form my response as a litmus test for guilt. “Kitty’s my best friend. She’s had a tough time and I wanted to be here for her.”
He doesn’t say anything but glowers down the hall.
I stop breathing. Have I pushed a button?
I follow his gaze to an approaching mob of boys in tan khakis and sweater vests.
“Look, could you do me a favour?” He touches my elbow, blanking the buzz in my spine as he leans and whispers, “You know Kaylee, right?”
“I – I just met her.”
He lowers his voice and speaks rapidly, “This is going to sound insane but could you go in the restroom and stall her–” He cuts off, releasing my arm as the boys stop beside us, a wall of testosterone. A couple of them dart smirking glances at one another as though anticipating entertainment. The buzz in my spine zaps back to life. I recognise the boy in front, Richard Dean, with his brown hair, blue eyes and brimming self-confidence.
“Hey, buddy.” Richard sidles in beside Aiden. “Batting outside your league?” He winks to include me in his joke.
I keep my expression blank, ignoring the sniggers of his friends.
“Richard.” Aiden manages to control his face, but I get the feeling he’d like to punch someone.
Richard waits, frowns then nudges Aiden. “This is where you introduce me.” But Aiden looks like he is having an unpleasant out-of-body experience. Richard shakes his head. “And yet he’s so high-functioning at the office.”
“Isn’t he though?” A blond boy calls, clasping his hands together in pantomime. “Why, yes, governor. No, governor. Anything you say, governor.”
Richard ignores him. Aiden’s knuckles whiten around his stack of books and papers.
“We’ve already met.” I resist the feral impulse to snarl. What I know condemns him and makes it too easy to suspect him of worse crimes.
“We have?” Richard acts as though he struggles to access the memory and I feel the collective leer of his friends. In a remote part of my brain, I know how intimidating this scenario should feel – how it would have felt in my pre-Spark incarnation – a cocky governor’s son and an audience of predatory males, their eyes roving aggressively over my body.
“Of course.” Richard spreads his hands in a display of realisation. “The photographer’s helper.” He looks at me expectantly. When it becomes obvious I have nothing to say, Richard fills the pause with a smile. “You said you weren’t at Gainsborough.”
“I wasn’t.” I catch the chemical whiff of his breath and stiffen. “Now, I am.”
“How mysterious.” Richard reveals his white teeth. “I still don’t know your name. Is it a secret?”
“Evangeline,” Aiden says, catching my eye and flicking his gaze towards the restroom. “Her name is Evangeline Everton.”
How does he know my full name?
“Ev-an-ge-line.” Richard makes it sound like he’s rolling candy on his tongue.
I shift to face Aiden, blocking Richard out. “Thanks for your help, Aiden. I’ll see you around.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Richard says. “We’re just having fun.”
I stalk away to the sound of groans and laughter. My sympathy for Aiden notches up; humiliation seems a high price to pay for a Gainsborough education and I hope for his sake it is worth it. I try not to slam open the girls’ restroom door in case I take it off its hinges. I need to stall Kaylee. A long partition blocks the bathroom from view and I stop at the sound of her voice.
“Honestly, she’s like an Addams Family freakshow, Kit.” She could only be talking about me. “The whole seating fiasco?”
“She’s new. It’s an intimidating place.”
“She can’t afford to crack a smile?”
“It’s been a rough year, all right. Cut her some slack.”
“Like what kind of rough?”
I freeze.
Don’t do it, Kitty.
Don’t tell her about my mom.
“It doesn’t matter.” The sound of water running, hands being washed. “Give her a break.”
I exhale.
Kaylee grumbles. “At least your brother’s back.”
Fine hairs rise on my forearms and my jaw juts forwards.
Kitty mutters something I can’t make out over the faucet.
Kaylee swears. “He’s taken?”
“Fairly definitely.”
“Damn, that’s all wrong. Who?”
More silent communication.
“No. Not Morticia!”
“Don’t call her that.”
“I’m officially depressed.”
She sounds depressed. It lifts my spirits.
“And she’s living with you? You think they’re …?”
“They’ve only just got together.” But the lack of conviction in Kitty’s voice makes my ears burn. Kaylee scoffs and Kitty clicks her tongue. “Besides, Dad would murder Jamie. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Lucky Morticia.”
I can’t take it. I want to break something. Instead, I slink back out into the corridor and stop short. Richard stands there, alone, palms up, his expression wryly pleading. “I got rid of the zoo animals.” Sparkling blue eyes, mischievous smile – no doubt practised weapons in his arsenal. “I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
I say nothing, let my stare chill down to sub zero.
At that point the restroom door opens and Kitty steps out, Kaylee behind her.
Inwardly, I cringe, glancing about for Aiden but I can’t see him anywhere. I try to sound breezy, “There you are, Kit. Thought I’d lost you.”
Kitty doesn’t answer, eyeing Richard like she’s stumbled on roadkill.
Richard purses his lips.
Kaylee loses her colour and looks at the floor.
“I won’t hold you up,” he says. “How’s the neck, Kitty-Cat?”
Kitty scowls. “Piss off, Richard.”
“Charming.” He shakes his head. “Kaylee, you look lovely, as always.”
She doesn’t meet his gaze.
He reaches and touches her hair where it lies over her shoulder, casual, intimate, skin-crawling. “I’ve missed you.”
She shifts away.
He shrugs and arches an eyebrow at me. “See you round, Evangeline.”
VOLLEYBALL
I trudge upstairs behind Kitty, too much on my mind, not even sure what class we’re going to. The episode with Richard has shaken me, seeing him touch Kaylee, watching her recoil. The wrongness of it – knowing the truth and yet saying nothing, doing nothing – that’s what really gets me. I could have stopped him from touching her, grabbed him and slammed him against the lockers … something.
The deeper fear that eats me up is wondering if I’ve just encountered Kitty’s Stray and yet felt no clear threatening signal. That’s the problem when everything and everyone looks sinister. The static, the pins and needles, the paranoia: Jamie and Miriam’s warning didn’t do it justice. Until Richard arrived in the corridor, I had been working my way towards condemning Aiden. I’d been willing to read his clumsiness, distraction and nervous tension as symptoms of Stray guilt. Yet, the moment Richard appeared, I had effortlessly transferred all my suspicion onto him.
Proof of my fickle judgement puts me in a black mood.
“Oh, good, there you are!” Lila’s head appears over the banister above us. “Calculus starts in five, come on.” Her black ponytail whips out of sight.
Kitty turns to me on the landing. “Back row?”
I hug my folder and grimace. “Sorry about that.” She looks pensive and wrung out. I touch her shoulder. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
“I’m not bothered about that.” She lowers her voice. “Did you feel something? Before, with Richard, I mean?”
Familiar dread rolls in my stomach, eel-like, cold and heavy; I can’t bear to see her afraid. I shake my head more emphatically than I feel; it doesn’t seem the time to admit to uncertainty. “No. Nothing.”
Shuddering, she exhales and closes her eyes. I stroke her arm, when really I wish I could cradle her like a child and croon promises that everything will be all right, that I’ll never let anything hurt her.
“I – I wondered,
you know, with what happened to Kaylee … If he could do that, then–”
“I know.”
She bites her lips, dark thoughts lining up behind her eyes. “And the others?”
It takes me a moment to figure out what she means. “The guys?”
She nods, unwilling to speak her fear.
“No, Kit.” I lean down, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Hell no. I felt nothing.” Which also isn’t entirely true, but relief transforms her face and posture, and I realise, again, how much she holds inside. I try for a rueful smile. “Other than Pete.”
She jerks her head. “Pete?”
“He likes you.”
“He does?” A surprised smile softens her lips and suddenly Pete doesn’t seem so bad to me. Kitty needs a distraction. But her expression clouds again. “I should have gone after Kaylee.” Kaylee had blown off Kitty’s concern and stalked away to her Spanish class. “Lila and Imogen said she refused to talk about it at all in California.”
I chew the inside of my cheek and we stand there lost in our thoughts. Lila appears at the top of the stairs, waving at us to hurry up. When we reach her, Imogen joins us and both of them fix me with meaningful looks. Lila grins, folding her arms. “Well?”
“Well what?” I say.
She leans towards me. “You and Jamie!”
Kitty groans.
Imogen looks faintly mournful.
My internal temperature rises even as my shoulders rise and I shrink into them. “It’s no big deal.”
Lila and Imogen produce identical scoffing sounds. “Trust me,” Lila says. “It’s a big deal. Kitty, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
“I’m not that fussed about my brother’s love life, to be honest.”
Lila hooks her arm through mine and turns me towards the classroom. “Gil says Jamie’s totally into you.”
Mrs Jenner blows her whistle and we assemble, gym shoes squeaking on the polished floor. Kitty follows my lead, letting the others crowd forwards, keeping us safely on the outer edge. A blond boy with sparkling green eyes grins at me. Confused, I look away. I try not to think about Jamie who stands with Gil and Abe, try not to notice the ponytail flicks and mascara glances of girls looking at him, try to ignore the strange territorial tightening in my muscles. Can’t he hear them giggling, their whispers as they ogle the bands of ink ringing his biceps? It’s hard enough to concentrate as it is, static crackling in my spine, as I glare at the back of Richard’s head, cursing the schedule gods for putting us all together.