Chapter 43 – Clover
Chapter Forty-Three
Clover
Now that I know he’s not a huge creep, I guess I forgive Sylvia for her secret boyfriend. He’s cute, but I don’t trust him completely for letting her head back to campus alone after their secret tryst and putting her at extreme risk.
She has a severe concussion, so while she’s back in the dorms, she can’t go to classes for the next two weeks.
Technically, she’s not supposed to go to the halloween party this weekend, but Sylvia insists that we’re going.
She won’t let anything hold her back, not even a concussion that stops her from remembering things for more than a few hours.
The worst part of the whole thing from her perspective involves missing our dance team.
Sylvia’s injuries might stop her from dancing in our showcase at the end of the semester, which means the competition in December would be out of the question.
The college insists we put on a showcase as a ‘final project’ if we’re allowed to compete with other schools.
It won’t be fair if we don’t get to compete.
Inverness Prep students have been posting their traditional Scottish dances on social media since September.
They’re taunting us. We need to teach these haggis eaters about rhythm. Real rhythm.
Kola and I don’t want to get Sylvia even more depressed about the whole dance thing, so we walk to Sylvia’s room together with apples from the dining hall and a giant scoop of peanut butter from Kola’s stash wrapped in wax paper.
Peanut butter is weirdly expensive in England, so Kola brought a giant jar from home which we’ve all been treasuring since the beginning of the semester.
None of the British girls get it, but when I gagged at Molly’s tablespoon of marmite on toast, she thought I was the weirdo.
We’re so lucky that all the black girls in our grade (just the three of us) are American enough to have a profound appreciation for delectable peanut butter.
Yum. Kola and I hear Brandy blasting from the speakers in Sylvia’s room and exchange nervous glances as we approach.
Sylvia’s music choices are like her personal mood ring and neither of us have ever heard her playing Brandy before.
“Maybe she’s got that white boy in there,” Kola whispers.
“If she had a white boy in there, she would definitely be playing Harry Styles.”
Kola nods knowingly. I creep towards her bedroom door, silently hoping that isn’t the case.
Sylvia’s secret white boy won’t help her get better at all if he’s rocking the bed.
She still won’t completely explain to us what the hell was so taboo about him.
I caught bits and pieces, but I definitely didn’t understand her completely.
I hope to God I don’t catch a glimpse of white butt cheeks as I put my hand on the door handle.
I doubt that hooking up with tall white boys in their mid-twenties is a healthy part of Sylvia’s concussion recovery program.
Kola knocks with her apple-laden hands as I test the handle.
It’s unlocked, which is a good sign. The music stops abruptly and Sylvia calls for us to enter her bedroom.
Phew. No rude white butt cheeks today. I push the door open and scan quickly for what clues her music choices should have given us.
She’s wearing all black. Uh oh. Sylvia never wears all black.
She dresses like a rainbow on her good days and with a bright monochrome color on her ‘bad days’, like when she wakes up too late or doesn’t get enough hugs.
Kola and I exchange nervous glances at the rain of sunshine in our friend group getting down like this.
We pile in and it’s clear what mood Sylvia’s in – depressed. I’ve never seen her like this. Seriously. Sylvia’s always smiling and nothing can take her down. Kola drops the apples on her desk and rushes to her, wrapping her arms around Sylvia before our girl can even say a word.
“Who did this? I’m gonna beat their ass!”
“It’s Theo,” she whispers. “He thinks we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
“Oh HELL no,” Kola yells. “He’s way too big for me to beat his ass. Clover’s got this.”
“So you’re sending me to beat down the white boy?”
I fold my arms in disbelief. If I had any skills at permanently beating down white boys, Thomas wouldn’t still be kicking around kissing me in hospital bathrooms and probing into my personal life.
“You can fight,” Kola says with far more confidence in my fighting skills than I have. Sylvia shakes her head.
“No one needs to beat down Theo,” Sylvia sighs. “He’s right. This was doomed to fail from the start.”
“Girl, how did it start?” Kola asks. “How the hell have you been sneaking around with this guy and nobody notices.”
“Oh y’all almost noticed,” Sylvia says. “I’ll give you credit. We were doomed from the start.”
It’s seriously unnerving seeing Sylvia get all depressed like this. I blame this stupid boyfriend of hers for all of this. Sylvia doesn’t fall for guys easily. She doesn’t fall for anyone. If some guy made her fall in love with him, he can’t just push her away because other people don’t approve.
“You were not doomed,” Kola says. “Now how did y’all start.”
Kola won’t let Sylvia get away with acting all elusive. We’re onto her secret keeping.
“We met at my sister’s house in New Orleans. We started as friends at first. I swear. He was helping me write grants for small business loans. One thing led to another.”
“You got horny writing grants?” Kola blurts out in disbelief and honestly, a bit of disappointment. She probably expected something juicier than this.
“He’s my brother-in-law’s cousin, he’s way too old for me and Crispin just threatened to stir fry his testicles for getting near me. Our friendship, everything between us… it was a total mistake.”
I put my hand on Sylvia’s shoulders to comfort her. I’ve never seen her this upset and I’ve certainly never imagined her lovesick. Her lower lip quivers and then Sylvia starts crying which freaks me and Kola out. I wrap my arms around Sylvia properly and Kola wraps her arms around both of us.
“Don’t cry,” Kola says. “There will be other guys.”
I elbow Kola. That’s probably not what she wants to hear right now.
“There’s still hope, don’t you think?” I ask Sylvia.
She shakes her head. No hope. I can’t help but thinking that if secrets were the only thing keeping them together, this guy doesn’t deserve Sylvia. He should want to claim her, not run and hide.
“That’s why I’m saying there will be other guys,” Kola says. “They’re not my thing, but this school is filled with tasty white guys.”
“Really, Kola?” I grumble. “Do you have to call them tasty?”
We both share a wink and a smile. Kola’s crazy, but her sense of humor normally cheers Sylvia up in a pinch. I don’t think we’ll get that lucky this time.
“You don’t understand,” Sylvia whispers. “I lost my virginity to him. I promised myself I would only do that if I was sure about a guy. If he loved me and I loved him and if…if I thought we would be together for the long haul.”
Kola squeezes her even tighter. “If he dumps you because of what other people say, he’s a dick.”
“I agree,” I tell her. “He should fight for you. Crispin can’t actually stir fry his balls.”
Sylvia gives me a look like I don’t understand Crispin at all, but she shakes her head stubbornly.
“He isn’t an asshole and he’s not a dick. His mom died at the end of the summer and… he’s one of the few people who understands what it’s like to lose a parent.You don’t know how hard that is.”
Kola and I unravel Sylvia from our tight grasp. We don’t want to shake her up and mess with her concussion anymore than our dramatic girl gang hug did already.
“We might not understand completely,” Kola says. “But we love you, and we know you miss your dad.”
“It’s not just that I miss him,” Sylvia says. “It’s that I have to live the rest of my life without him. It hurts.”
We take her hands and squeeze them tightly. We have to be there for each other now more than ever before. The attack on Sylvia just escalated things, at least assuming we can blame all of this on Spicy Freak.
“Will apples and peanut butter help a little?” I offer. Sylvia nods and then clutches the side of her head because nodding still hurts.
I grab one of the apples and Kola tosses me her backpack so I can load ‘em up with peanut butter after I cut them with a butter knife I semi-permanently borrowed from the dining hall.
“So what’s the plan for halloween?” Sylvia asks, sitting on the bed and resting her head a little on her chair-shaped pillow. “We need to get our shit together.”
“Aren’t you too concussed to talk about that?” I remind Sylvia. I want my friend’s help, but I can’t throw Sylvia into the line of danger. Sylvia promises us that she can handle it.
Kola clears her throat, “Well, there are updates. I agreed to be the bait.”
“Are you sure?” Sylvia asks.
“I told her I could be the bait.”
“No!” Kola insists. “This person hasn’t come for me yet. I’m ready for some action.”
“Okay, but how are you supposed to be the bait? You constantly announce your hatred for white boys,” Sylvia says. Sylvia makes a good point, honestly.
“I’m supposed to pretend to be dating Thomas,” Kola says. “I’ll pull it off. I was in My Fair Lady in high school.”
“Everyone thinks he’s dating Clover, though. No offense,” Sylvia says.
“I’m going to have a fake fight with him in public,” Clover says. “Get that b-word off the scent.”
“Okay, what do I do?” Sylvia says. “I want to kick some ass. Play some tricks. Just because I have a concussion doesn’t mean I have to sit in the background.”
Kola and I exchange glances. We suspected Sylvia would get like this.
“Try not to get killed,” Kola says. “That’s your job. This is too serious.”
Sylvia makes a point that I’d considered, but didn’t want to bring up.
“Whoever attacked me didn’t attack because of Thomas or some blackmail. If they were following me, they have to know I was with Theo.”
“You’re still close to Thomas,” I tell her, halfway trying to convince myself. The thought of two crazy ass freaks roaming about the Fox Academy doesn’t exactly make me feel good.
Talking about Thomas makes my cheeks feel really warm and I feel uncomfortable just saying his name. Our kiss in the hospital bathroom should have never happened. I haven’t seen him since then and since we’re done with our Ethics project, I don’t have a real reason to see Thomas.
We shouldn’t be seen together until Halloween anyway and that definitely doesn’t bother me because after kissing Thomas again and again… I need to stay away from him. I need a break from the weird way his lips make me feel and how I can forget that he’s such an asshole when he touches me.
“Maybe whoever’s doing this hates multiple people,” Sylvia says. “You’d have to be a hateful person to blackmail someone.”
She has a point. We paint our apples with peanut butter and share them with each other, moving swiftly from the subject of our plot to our dance rehearsals.
Everything’s been great and we have a male lead now since Roger can actually dance and Kola choreographed a role for him. Sylvia shakes her head.
“I can’t believe I’m missing out,” Sylvia grumbles. Kola rubs her shoulder sympathetically and Sylvia smiles, which feels like a successful mission.
A surprising knock comes at Sylvia’s door.
“Are you expecting anyone?”
“No,” Sylvia says.
“Syl, it’s me.”
Fuck.
I fling the door open, heart racing, feeling unreasonably outraged to see Thomas Bainbridge standing there with a bouquet of flowers.
“Are those for me?” Sylvia asks.
Thomas turns red. Incredibly red. I feel so awkward, I want to sink into the ground. Thomas only makes it worse.
“Er… no. Sorry.”
“Well, who are they for, then?” Sylvia asks. “And why are you breaking school rules to be here?”
* * *