Chapter Eight
After I’ve gathered my things, I leave the art building, surprised by how quiet the campus is despite the bell ringing not even five minutes ago.
Or maybe it was ten? It took me a while to clean up after myself.
Plus, I was halfway out the door when I decided to go back and check the stack of canvases again to ensure no one can tell there’s anything hidden there.
I have to keep reassuring myself that it’s an excellent hiding place, but I’m still a little nervous that someone could discover them.
The dossier especially will expose me as a complete fraud.
If anyone finds it, I’ll be ruined. More importantly, I’ll have to leave Wickham a complete failure.
No way can I let that happen.
I’m heading for my dorm room when I end up detouring into the alumni garden. I don’t stop walking until I’m standing in front of the bronze statue again. I study the boy’s face. Pulling out my phone, I open up the photo I took earlier, and it’s all the confirmation I need.
The statue is definitely the boy who had his arm around my mother’s shoulders.
Did Isla figure this out? I need to review her notes and that list as soon as possible.
But how? I’m assuming Priya is in our room, and I’d prefer privacy to go over everything.
Maybe I could sneak off to the library by myself for a couple of hours.
Will I be able to look my fill at the photos and maybe even do a little research in the archives?
Or will someone notice me? I have no clue.
I also need to talk to Julian and see what he might know. I feel like there are people all over this campus who know something, but it’s not like I have time to interview every single student. This is why I need to focus on the key players. And speaking of key players …
I’m about to exit the garden when I spot Julian across the courtyard. Talk about perfect timing.
“Julian!” I wave my hand when he lifts his head, and he waits for me as I run across the grass to meet up with him. “Hey. Thanks for waiting.”
“Anything for you.” The mischievous grin on his face immediately makes me suspicious. His secret girlfriend is in a coma, and he’s most definitely flirting with me. Talk about gross. But I can’t let that bother me at the moment. “Were you just in the alumni garden?”
“I was.” I laugh as if I haven’t a care in the world. “Rather boring, though.”
“I’ll say.” He chuckles. “Hot tip for the new girl: nothing fun ever happens in the alumni garden.”
“Noted.” We walk together in silence for only a few seconds before I decide to test him. “Tell me, then—where do fun things happen here?”
“Well, the Wickham campus is part of a sprawling estate. Acres and acres of land, as far as the eye can see.” I lift my head to find he’s already watching me. “There are plenty of places to get up to no good if you’re creative enough.”
I force my lips into a coquettish tilt, even when all I want to do is sneer at the audacity of this little twerp.
He’s supposed to be heartbroken, but he’s flirting like his secret girlfriend isn’t lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
“What kind of trouble do you like to get into?” I scan the path ahead so I don’t have to look him in the eye, wondering if I took it too far.
But nope. Julian doesn’t miss a beat, though his tone when he answers my question is a bit more … cautious.
“Depending on the weather, we usually light a bonfire out in one of the fields on Friday nights and sit around it for a couple of hours while we drink. Also, some of us have been known to have what we like to call ‘secret house parties,’ but they’re always in someone’s dorm room.
” He shrugs. “You know, the usual goings-on at a boarding school where we can let loose and relax for a bit. Get into a little trouble, even, though nothing too outrageous.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod, keeping my gaze on the dorm building looming up ahead. “What about the kind of trouble that doesn’t include a crowd? Like … one-on-one trouble?”
“Are you asking where some of us might sneak off for a little shag, Belinda?” He makes a tsking noise, but I can tell from the look on his face he’s eating this up.
Ew. “Trust me, there are plenty of secret spots around campus. Old buildings that the school doesn’t officially use any longer.
The theater. Lots of mischief happens in the theater. There are so many dressing rooms.”
“I’m guessing you’ve used a few of those dressing rooms before?” I pause for dramatic effect, then widen my eyes like I’ve just had a sudden thought. “Wait a minute. I’m not going to piss anyone off by asking you these questions, am I? Like maybe a girlfriend or … something?”
We come to a stop at the same time in front of my dorm. When I turn to face Julian, I can tell my question touched a nerve. His expression is blank, his eyes absent of the spark that was there only a moment ago. “You should be careful asking questions you might not want the answer to.”
I frown, confused. “What do you—”
“Oh look, there’s Arlo.” Julian starts walking, his back already to me. “See you around, Belinda.”
I watch him go, pissed at myself. I pushed too hard. I need to play it casual around these people, but it’s difficult when all I want to do is catch everyone in a lie.
When I enter my room a few minutes later, it’s an internal fight to hide my disappointment.
Priya has company—Abigail. They’re both hunched over Priya’s desk, the two of them sharing the chair as they study an open textbook.
The moment I shut the door, Priya leaps to her feet, her movements frantic, her eyes extra bright.
“Belinda! I didn’t expect you.”
“I live here.” I drop my backpack on my bed before I face her. “You should expect me.”
“Right, right. I don’t know. I just thought—” Priya shakes her head. “I don’t know what I thought. My brain cells are consumed with studying for the French exam tomorrow and nothing else.”
“You’re not in Advanced Mandarin?” I ask.
Abigail scoffs, stretching her arms above her head. “We want to live in Paris. I plan on studying fashion design.”
“Yes. Fashion design.” Priya nods, standing straighter. “Me too.”
I watch them both, curious. I have a feeling Priya isn’t interested in fashion design.
And they’re both acting a little twitchy.
The energy in the room vibrates with a kind of manic tension.
Are they … on something? If so, my mind is seriously blown.
Priya is so damn uptight that I’m surprised she’d do something like this. And for what? To study?
That’s no fun.
After I grab my phone out of my backpack, I flop onto my bed with an exaggerated sigh and start doomscrolling. Abigail and Priya resume their studying, reading out loud to each other from the textbook and trying to answer every question in French.
Ugh.
I pull up Sophia’s number that she gave me earlier and send her a quick text.
Me:What are you doing?
It takes her a few minutes to respond.
Sophia:In a meeting. I’m the president of the International Club, and it’s our monthly meetup.
Me:Oh. Fun.
I get the sense that Sophia is a total overachiever and is in lots of clubs. Probably to impress her dad and keep herself busy.
My phone dings with another text from her.
Sophia:Should be done in about fifteen minutes. Everything okay? Do you need something?
Me:Yeah, I need to get away from Priya and Abigail. They’re talking to each other nonstop in French.
Sophia:That exam tomorrow is going to be brutal. Do you want to meet in my room?
Me:Where’s your room?
I didn’t think she lived in a dorm room on campus. I assumed she lived with her parents.
Sophia:Same building you’re in but on the second floor. Room 222. The door is unlocked because I’ve been living at home the last couple of weeks.
Sophia:See you soon!
Why has she been living at home the last few weeks? Why doesn’t she just live at home always? I assume the headmaster has his own quarters on campus. And who just leaves their dorm room unlocked?
This is weird.
I quickly change out of my uniform and slip on a pair of dark-green sweatpants with the Wickham crest on the left front hip and a matching hoodie. It’s thick and warm, and I’m about to leave the room without a word when Priya stops me.
“Where did you get that?”
I turn to face Priya and Abigail. They’re both watching me with curiosity sparking their already bright gazes. “Where did I get what?”
“The matching sweats.” Priya waves a hand toward me. “They’re really nice.”
Oh. I didn’t expect her to compliment my outfit.
“My parents got them for me. I guess they were part of the uniform package.” I glance down at myself before returning my gaze to Priya’s.
I can feel Abigail studying me. Even spot the faintly disgusted curl to her upper lip.
I wonder if being such a raging bitch is tiring, or if it gives her energy, like a succubus draining her victims.
“They’re nice.” Priya laughs, glancing over at Abigail. “We never got anything like that offered to us as part of our uniform package.”
“Well, that was a few years ago,” Abigail reminds her. “Maybe this is what they give the newbies now.”
If they’re trying to remind me of my lack of social status on this campus, they’re doing a great job, I think to myself as I storm out of the room. The door slams on their laughter, cutting off all sound. I practically run down the hall, skipping down the steps as fast as possible.
I want out of here. I’m in desperate need of some peace and quiet, and listening to those two rattle on in French was only giving me a headache.
The second floor is laid out exactly like the third, and I find Sophia’s room easily. I open the door and peek my head in, half expecting Sophia’s roommate to be inside and pissed that I barged in like this, but I’m greeted by nothing but silence.