Читать книгу New Girl - Paige Harbison - Страница 9

WE SNUCK DOWN SOME CREAKY, SANDY STAIRS to get to a beach that was so, so different from the ones back home.

My bare legs were swathed in chilly air and I wished I could go stick my feet in the water and have it be warm. But, alas, this was not Florida.

There was a boathouse at the foot of the stairs. It was pounding quietly with music, and a slivery border of gold indicated the door to us. When the door was opened, sound and light poured out and smacked us in the face.

I followed the other two and their booted feet with my sandaled ones, and took a deep breath. I was ready.

No you’re not, said that nag in my brain.

“I brought the new girl!” Julia said once we were in view of the rest of the party.

“Hey,” I said with a wave. My insides melted and I felt my face grow hot.

She introduced me to everyone. I smiled and gave them my name, promising them we’d have to remeet later. After that, Madison and Julia went off to different guys, and left me alone.

I surveyed the scene and immediately felt out of my element. I had no guide. There were a few people on a shabby couch taking deep, strained breaths out of a bong. Another few were playing beer pong, a game I was familiar with but entirely awful at. And some people just hung around like me.

Some guy rose from a chair nearby and sidled up to me. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Hey.” I almost felt like I would rather be ignored.

“I’m Ricky. And you’re the new girl.”

I nodded and laughed, unable to think of anything to say.

He gave me what I was sure he thought was a winning smile, and asked if I wanted a shot.

“Oh, no, thank you.”

“Oh, come on, you’re fun, aren’t you?” another guy asked, wandering over to us.

He said it in the distinct tone that usually goes with, “Come on, little girl, you want some candy?” Either that or like he was starring as a villain in some 1950s after-school special.

My cheeks, I was sure, were growing even redder. “I’m not a prude, I just … I’m not thirsty.”

That was a stupid response. They looked like they knew it, and walked off.

I sighed and took a step backward. There was a yelp behind me, and I leaped as I realized I’d stepped on some girl’s foot.

“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”

“No problem. I’m Blake.”

“Hi, I’m apparently ‘the new girl.’”

She laughed. “This is my boyfriend, Cam.”

“Hi, Cam.” I glanced back at the two guys who had just walked away from me.

“I’d stay away from them.” Cam took a sip from a red cup.

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re harmless, but I mean, they’re pushy.”

I looked around at everyone else. It was strange, because there was music and drinking and there were games, but everyone was kind of quiet. It was like a detention pizza party. “Everyone’s sort of … subdued.”

“Yeah.” She looked around, too. “It’s not usually like this.”

I nodded, as if in understanding, and looked back out. Then the two of them started talking, and I felt like I should drift away. So I did. I sat down against a wall, suddenly eager to leave.

“You want to play?”

Another guy I hadn’t met yet walked over to me. I really hoped they weren’t all skeevy. This guy didn’t look like he would be, though. He had shortish blond hair and an overall pleasant look about him. He probably didn’t have to resort to being creepy.

“Play?” I asked.

He gestured to the table behind him. “Beer pong? Well … water pong. We don’t have any beer.” He smiled.

I envisioned the scene. Me playing, being terrible and being entirely lame and disappointing. “No, thanks, I’m really bad.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “With no beer it’s just for fun.”

“No, really. Thank you, though.”

Now I was being antisocial.

“Well, then.” He held out a hand. “I’m Johnny.”

“I—”

“Oh, new girl, right? Can I get you a drink?”

I sighed. “Right.” Then, abruptly feeling like it might not be a bad idea, I said, “Maybe one small drink.”

Johnny laughed and made me one. He added one shot. I thanked him, and took a sip.

“So what brings you to Manderley in your senior year?”

“My parents. I used to want to come here when I was younger. My parents got me in because a spot opened up, thinking I still really wanted to come.”

His features hardened a little.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it here so far, I just … I liked my old school, too.”

“Are you … Is Dana your roommate, then?”

“Yes, she is. I haven’t really talked to her yet.” I thought of her stony silence. “She didn’t want to come down tonight.”

“That’s too bad. Not surprised, though.” He looked behind him. “Well, if you change your mind about playing let me know. I have to go find someone since you don’t want to.” He gave me a smile, and found a new partner.

I stayed for another half an hour without being approached by anyone. I drank my drink and then headed out after saying goodbye to the few people I’d talked to. Ricky tried to convince me to have more shots before I left. I declined, and then hurried away from him as politely as possible.

Outside, I turned the corner on the dark, dusty stairs and nearly screamed as I ran into a figure.

“Whoa,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” It was dark, and we were illuminated only by the running lights at our feet. I could just barely make out his face, which seemed almost familiar. I looked away and started up the steps. I stumbled, dumbly, and he caught my wrist.

“Are you a freshman?” he asked.

“N-no.” I shook my head. His hand was warm, and still held on to me.

“Then you’re the new girl.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes.”

I saw his pale eyes squint briefly, and then he dropped my hand. A small chill ran through me, and I wanted him to say more. I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know what.

“Sorry for running into you.” I turned and walked up the steps, not understanding at all what had just happened.

As I snuck quietly through my door, I realized I didn’t know where the light switch was. More than that, I couldn’t turn on the overhead light since Dana was apparently sleeping. I flicked on my flashlight and stepped carefully to my bed, but not without stubbing my toe painfully on the suitcase under the bed. I bit my lip to keep from swearing, and then searched in the darkness for any of my things.

In the end, all I could find was my comforter and my pillow. I took off my jeans and slid noisily into bed. It was hard at first to fall asleep. I was cold and uncomfortable. I missed my big, cushy bed and the rest of my pillows, and even Jasper’s annoyingly frequent snoring that would only cease after a nudge in the ribs from me.

At home when I couldn’t sleep, I would make myself a little crudités plate like my dad always did, with Ritz crackers, cheeses, Wickles Pickles (the only kind worth buying), different kinds of meats, grapes….

Or maybe just a cup of tea and some of those jam-and-shortbread cookies my mom made and almost always had around. Suddenly nothing would be better than to tiptoe into my quiet living room, always lit by the fancy dim light in the corner, and cozy up on the couch to watch old Frasier reruns until unconsciousness swept me away.

I couldn’t even think about it without getting a pain in my stomach.

I finally fell asleep, into weird dreams filled with distorted elements of Manderley I must have subconsciously taken in, but which I still didn’t recognize.

Suddenly I was on the beach by the boathouse. It was pitch-black and freezing cold, even colder than before. I stepped into the water, which was so sharp and frigid that it felt like broken glass. Despite the pain, I kept walking. Before I knew it, I was swimming in the middle of the black sea. I couldn’t see where I was, or how far away the shore was.

Panic wrapped around my heart as I realized I couldn’t find my way to safety. There was a thunderous roar behind me, before a wave curled around me. It was strong, like a million forceful hands pushing me under. Every time I felt air, it would suck me under again and thrash me around like a Raggedy Ann doll.

A memory of those pale eyes I had barely been able to see floated into my suddenly aching head. He was mad, he was shouting. I couldn’t stand to see him like this.

I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried, and got a mouthful of salty water instead. I thought I reached the dry surface and took a breath. Instead I breathed in a rush of water that made my throat ache. My salty tears were mixing with the water around them and my body was contracting oddly as if I couldn’t control it.

“Anyone who has not already, please proceed to the Kenneth L. Montague auditorium for the First Day Assembly.”

I was shaken from my dream very abruptly when a voice I didn’t expect came over a PA system I didn’t know existed.

Why hadn’t my alarm gone off? I inspected it, to find that I’d set it for 6:00 p.m., not a.m.

Without thinking, I threw on some jeans and grabbed my bright yellow staff T-shirt from my last year at the Jax Beach Surf Competition. I flip-flopped out the door thirty seconds later with only my key in hand.

It took me fifteen minutes of running around like a rat in a maze before I found the auditorium. I pulled on each of the doors, but they were all locked. I looked around for anyone, but I was completely alone. Left with no other option, I knocked.

The door opened suddenly, and a youngish man let me in. “Freshman?”

“Oh, no, I’m a senior. But I’m new.”

“Try to be on time from now on.” He was stern but not unkind. He glanced at my clothes. “And at the end of the assembly, please put on your uniform.”

A shock of humiliation ran through me. I looked at the sea of navy-blue, white and khaki uniformed students in the seats. “Sorry, I’m coming from public school, I’ve never had—”

He nodded politely, though a touch dismissively, as I drifted into my annoying habit of overexplaining. I stopped, and he told me there was a seat down in front. To get to it, I’d have to walk—duck—past everyone.

I got there as quietly as possible and ignored the stares I could feel on me. Once seated, I stared straight up at the stage where I was only just noticing that there was a woman speaking.

She was reminding the students of the rules. Mostly everyone had no doubt heard the spiel as many times as I’d read it over the summer. I cringed when she got to the part about wearing uniforms every day to every function but Saturday and Sunday and social events. Weekends were mostly our own. We were allowed out from 9:00 a.m. until 10:00 p.m. on Saturdays, and from noon till 7:00 p.m. on Sundays. There were shuttles that would go back and forth from town to Manderley.

“… and absolutely no sexual relations of any kind anywhere on school property,” the speaker said, a tad optimistically, and adjusted her papers. There was a snicker in the audience that she must have heard but ignored. “And now I’m inviting Professor Andrews up to the stage. Thank you for your continued attention.” She took a seat at the back of the stage with several other teacher-looking people.

I clapped once, but the rest of the auditorium stayed silent. I shrank in my seat.

Professor Andrews turned out to be the man who’d let me in. He walked to the podium looking a little frazzled.

“Okay, well, I think Eloise, er, Headmaster Jenkins, pardon me, did a pretty good job of welcoming everyone, and reviewing the rules with you, so I won’t be getting into any of that.” He took his glasses from the neck of his shirt and put them on. “I’m sure most of you, at least many of you for whom this is not your first year, have already heard about Rebecca Normandy.”

There was a slight rustling in the audience, but an immediate halt in the whispering.

“In the interest of providing correct information to all of you at once, and keeping the school from crippling rumors, I’ll tell you what we know. Since May fourteenth, Rebecca Normandy has been missing. It’s not clear what happened, only that she was here one moment and gone the next. If anyone hears anything from her, sees her, or is in any kind of contact with Miss Normandy, you must tell someone.”

I listened carefully, and then felt my stomach plummet through my seat.

Rebecca Normandy was Becca, the old roommate. Hers was the “slot that opened up” at Manderley.

“This is a very small school, and I’m sure that everyone here has been affected by the event. Because of that, I hope you all know that Dr. Morgan—” he gestured behind him to one of the seated women who was small and older and looked quite nice “—will have her door open at any time and will be offering counseling. I advise everyone who wants to or needs to, to make an appointment with Dr. Morgan. It can’t hurt. And now, Dana Veers would like to say a few words on behalf of Miss Normandy’s parents.”

He stepped aside, and was quickly replaced by Dana. She peered out at the audience through her narrow eyes.

“So, we all know Becca is missing, but way too many people are just assuming she’s dead. Anyone who can should write to her on Facebook and beg her to come back. Because I am sure she is out there, and probably checking it. If there is any way that she might come home, we have to make her want to. Her parents and the police have pretty much given up hope.” She looked sick. “But I haven’t, and I hope the rest of you haven’t.” She glanced down to the front row.

Then, abruptly, she thanked us for our attention and went back to her seat.

I was horrified at how I’d acted the day before. Dana’s old roommate was missing. They had probably been friends.

Professor Andrews replaced her behind the stand. “Now Dr. Morgan has a few words she’d like to say, and then we’ll release you to go to your first classes. Dr. Morgan?”

The tiny woman shuffled up to take his place, pulling the microphone down to match her height.

“Hello, everyone.” She had a nasally English accent, and reminded me a little of the fairy godmother in Cinderella. “I know this is a very difficult time for each and every one of you, no matter how well you know Miss Normandy, or in what capacity. What you must remember is that you are all in this together. You are all going through something as one, unified group.” She grasped the air and made a fist, as though collecting all of our leashes. “If you need someone to talk to, you could simply look left or right, and find someone who knows what you’re going through.” She smiled tenderly. “Why don’t you do that now? Just look to the person sitting next to you, and tell them you’re here for them. Go ahead.”

There was a small murmur of reluctant participation, and some giggling. I looked to my left and saw the back of a girl’s head, and to my right to see a boy slouching in his seat and leaning his face on his fingers.

I faced forward.

“Good.” Dr. Morgan clasped her hands together. “Now take the hand of the person sitting next to you. Everyone, please?” She looked down at the front row, and with a surge I realized she was looking at me. Or … the boy next to me. “Mr. Holloway? You of all people …” She said the last part away from the microphone, but trailed off when the boy held out his hand for me to take. I put my hand in his.

As soon as we touched, it felt like an electrical current ran through me. I remembered the touch of the boy on the stairs the night before and wondered if this was him. I glanced sideways, not wanting to make it obvious that I was looking at him.

Dr. Morgan went on. “Now shut your eyes. And put yourself in the place that makes you the happiest.” She was silent a few seconds, and shushed the people who laughed. “Wonderful. Now take a deep breath, and think to yourself, I will get through this. I will get through this. I will get through this. Deep breath in … and now out.”

I was afraid my hand was clammy. Was I holding too hard? Did I seem eager?

“Good,” said Dr. Morgan.

At her word, the boy let go of my hand as though it had burned him.

“Remember that everyone around you understands, and that you are absolutely more than welcome to come visit with me. Over the next two weeks, I will be meeting with each one of you. We will discuss your plans for college, and anything else you might need to get off your chest. Thank you all for listening so carefully. Welcome back to Manderley, and if you’re just starting, then welcome to your new home.”

She smiled kindly, and went back to her seat as I and everyone else filled the room with the spattering of polite applause.

I was locked in my own head. There had been one spot at Manderley, and I’d gotten it. I was Rebecca’s old roommate’s new roommate, and the whole school was hoping she would come back at any second.

The boy next to me gave me a nod and then stood to leave.

Everything came together with a horrible lurch in my stomach. He was the one I’d run into on the stairs last night. Not only that, but the reason he was familiar was because he was the one pictured with Becca.

That startlingly handsome boy had been her boyfriend.