15. Claire
15
CLAIRE
I really wish Lily were around when I head back to our dorm room, to keep me sane, and maybe prep me again.
The board member—I don’t even know his name—said ten at the Vesper house. Even planning to arrive a good fifteen minutes early, I know there’s no point in leaving before a quarter past nine; the Vesper House is right next to the Wyvern House, and it took about half an hour to walk there yesterday. That means, time to waste.
I know I should eat, but the very thought of food makes me nauseous.
In the absence of my advisor, I opt for an outfit change. And a shower, first. I need something to do to combat the anxiety.
I frankly don’t know if the board meeting clothing choices are appropriate for a student council meeting. I guess Lily was trying to help me look like a good girl for whatever old guy sat on the board. She likely didn’t picture a near-perfect Henry Cavill lookalike. I may not be the best at fashion advice, but my personal experience says the good girl vibe doesn’t tend to work on people my age.
After the longest shower I’ve ever taken, which does little to soothe my nerves, although I cry twice, I slowly blow dry my hair, a painstaking yet completely useless endeavor as it’s raining tonight. It’s all about wasting time. Then I braid my hair. It’s only eight thirty when I’m done, so I apply some makeup. I don’t even try to do the sort of magic Lily worked on me, sticking to my usual pale, boring shades. Then, I get dressed in a pink skirt and white blouse. A little less formal than my earlier clothing, but nothing like yesterday’s outfit.
It’s finally time to head off to the tower. The footpath gate of the private drive swings open before I buzz the ringer, which feels ominous. My walk seems a lot longer tonight than it was yesterday, either because I’m alone, or because there’s so much at stake. I have to convince the council, at any cost.
What will they demand of me?
Does it matter?
I get the sense of eyes following me. When I glance around, there’s no one except a few security guards patrolling. They don’t pay me any mind.
When I reach the gate, a few yards away from the Wyvern House, my feet pause of their own volition, my heart thundering in my chest. What’s going to happen to me here?
The door swings open, and I’m shocked to see someone I recognize in the entrance.
There’s no mistaking it; the beautiful dark curls, the smooth russet skin, and that big, soft mouth. I’d recognize her any day. The girl will likely haunt my nightmares for the next decade. Last time I saw her, she was almost a corpse.
I didn’t see those striking pale jade eyes last night, even when she finally coughed up the pool water in her lungs.
“Hey, Claire. I’m Charlotte. I heard I owe you my life.”
She smiles like it’s amusing. When people say “I owe you my life” they probably mean “thank you thank you thank you, how could I possibly repay you?” But we both know she jumped.
I’m so startled by how casual she looks. Shouldn’t she be at the hospital? Surrounded by doctors and shrinks? What is she doing here? Is she part of the council?
“How are you doing?” is all I manage to ask.
At least it’s not as rude as what the fuck are you doing here ?
“Not any worse than yesterday. Except I have babysitters twenty-four seven to ensure I don’t nope out of existence like I want to.” She just rolls her eyes. “Come on in.”
I do.
Thinking on it, it’s good she was the one to greet me. I’m not at ease, exactly, but I’m considerably less freaked out about my situation, in light of all my curiosity about her. She’s suicidal. Yesterday made that plain, and the way she speaks now reinforces it. And yet she seems…fun? Funny, cracking jokes at her own expense. Alive.
“I’m glad you’re all right, Charlotte. Truly.” I want to tell her the world’s a better place with her in it, but it sounds like a platitude from a stranger. “And having you here stresses me out a hell of a lot less.”
“Oh, they weren’t kidding. You are so sweet ,” she tells me. Before I can ask who she means by “they,” she adds, “And unbearably naive. I have no more power than you do here, darling. Don’t think I’m any kind of a shield.”
The warning sends shivers down my spine. “Still. I’m glad to see you.”
“Ditto, sweet cheeks. First door on the right—the study,” she tells me, pointing to a large wooden double sliding door that evokes castles and alcoves and secrets. “I’ll be downstairs once you get there, okay? And keep your chin up. It’ll be over before you know it.”
I turn, but before I can ask her what she means she’s hopping down a flight of stairs at the end of the room.
Fuck. I’m all alone.
Rather than sliding the doors open, I opt to knock.
Both doors glide apart, and at my first glance of what waits for me inside, I am glad I skipped dinner. It would have made a reappearance immediately.
The room, a vast university-style library, can hardly be called a study. It’s mostly plunged in darkness, except for dim, low lights along the many book stacks on the wall. All that would have been worth plenty of observation, had my eyes immediately not converged to the center of the room, where seven masked, cloaked shadows stand in a semicircle.
Seven. One for each of the houses.
“Welcome to the council, little snitch. Come in.”
I resist the instinct to do the opposite, to turn on my heels and run in the opposite direction. They’re…terrifying. Everything about their appearance is meant to intimidate, and it works. The masks. God, the masks.
Each is different; one, all white, with deep black cuts where eyes are supposed to be, reminiscent of a skull. Another in the shape of a wolf, a third, silver. In the middle, the tallest of the figures wears a dark blue neon-accented mask with blue eyes and a mouth carved in a sewed-up parody of a smile.
Fuck. I’m seriously seconds from pissing myself.
“Come on in.” I get the feeling it’s the one in the center talking. I can’t say for sure; I don’t see any mouths moving. The voice isn’t recognizable. I think some device alters it, making it deeper, almost robotic.
I don’t want to come in. Masks and cloaks, gloves, and darkness. Are they going to fucking kill me?
Shit, not even Lily knows I’m here.
They’re going to fucking murder me, aren’t they?
“The board wants us to assess whether you can keep your mouth shut about private business. You also have earned a punishment from us. Should you submit to the council, we will vote to reinstate you at Rothford.”
I can hear my heart beat in my ears. “You’d do that?”
“Depends. Can you be a good girl and do what you’re told, Claire?” There’s a challenge there.
I make myself take three steps into the dark room, and repeat what I told the board member. "I'll do anything.”
“Yes, the president said as much.” The eerie voice sounds amused. “Let’s see if it’s true. Kneel, Claire.”
I fight my body and all my instincts, but I do it. I get on my fucking knees, jaw tight, fists shaking.
“How about that? We have ourselves a good girl after all.”
A few chuckles ricochet off the walls, freezing my blood.
“Your punishment is four hours at the mercy of the council. You will not protest, no matter how much you want to. You will not speak unless prompted. And you will keep your mouth shut about what happens, permanently. If you breathe a word, you will be immediately expelled and extensive records of those four hours will be sent to everyone you’ve ever known. Understood?”
I should be shocked. I should be outraged. In truth, I am both unsurprised and relieved that they’re only demanding four hours, not the whole year, not my entire life.
“What will you do to me?” I whisper.
There’s a pause. “A great many things.”
“I'm a virgin.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, as I look down, cheeks aflame.
Because it will be sexual, I have no doubt. They are going to use my body for four hours.
It can’t be how I do that for the first time. I’ll remember it for the rest of my days, and it will be so awful. Fuck, I should have had sex with anyone. Keller, yesterday. Noah, ages ago. Anyone.
“Your pussy can be left out of the equation.” I lift my eyes to the masks, shocked. “No vaginal penetration will occur.”
“Really?” I whisper, completely dumbfounded.
That’s…kind. A lot kinder than expected. How fucked up is it that I’m finding that kind, and reasonable?
“Everything else is permissible.So what do you say, Claire? Is your comfort and dignity for four hours worth four years of tuition at Rothford to you?”
There's only one answer.