Chapter 10
Busted, I step from the bougainvillea, moving aside bright-pink petals as I reveal myself. Sumner follows. Now that we’re no longer cast with an obstructed view, I notice Ellerby is standing alone, arms folded across her thin lavender sweater.
“Should I even bother asking?”
“We heard most of it,” I admit.
Ellerby places one hand on her hip, the other on her forehead. “I didn’t need this today.”
“Who was that?” Sumner asks.
“Charles Guidry.” Ellerby straightens. “And I would appreciate it if you kept anything you overheard to yourselves.”
My organs feel like they’ve been shrink-wrapped. “He’s the one who wants to close the school?” I can feel Sumner’s eyes on me, as if I’m glass on a hot stove on the brink of shattering.
A crestfallen look sweeps over Ellerby’s features. “He’s trying,” she finally says.
“You can’t let him.” Sumner’s tone is unrecognizably forceful. “Surely there’s another way.”
“Believe me, we’re doing everything we can.” She steps around us and starts toward the administration building, but we keep up with her stride. “The board has been working on this for months. It’s a legal bind—one that’s not in our favor, I’m sorry to say.”
I slide myself between her and the double doors before she has a chance to open them. “Why?”
Ellerby looks between Sumner and me, weighing her next words.
“Ivernia School’s land has technically belonged to the Guidry family for decades.
It was recently passed on to Charles in his grandfather’s will, and there are no legal contracts ensuring our institution can continue under Charles.
He has the right to do as he chooses with the land.
No one thought to question it when Beaumont was alive. ”
“So that asshole doesn’t care what happens to us?” I say, fire funneling through my veins.
“I understand this is upsetting, but I implore you to remain respectful,” Ellerby tells me. “I know how much this place means to you, but I promise we’re working on a solution. And I’m going to ask once again for you to keep this to yourselves until we know our next steps.”
“You can buy the land from them,” Sumner says. “Can’t you?”
“We’re unable to match the offer that Guidry has already received,” Ellerby says, concern tucked in the thin lines on her forehead.
“For now, we’re proceeding as normal. That means you can’t ignore your schoolwork.
Or Ladies of Polite Society, Delaney.” She gives me a pointed look.
“And we’ll do everything in our power to come to an agreement. ”
She steps around me, reaching for the door to the admin building. I move out of her way. “Please try and enjoy the rest of this beautiful Saturday,” she tells us before disappearing inside.
As soon as the door closes, I slump onto the hard bench beside it. Sumner sits next to me. I prop my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands. “Don’t make a joke right now,” I groan.
“Wasn’t going to.” He pauses. “Guidry looks like an infected big toe.”
An airy snort releases into my palms. He’s not wrong.
“The warty kind.”
My fingertips press into my eyelids. “Can you please not say warty with that much gusto anywhere near my vicinity.”
“I hear if you chant it in front of a mirror three times, his face appears.”
My lips raise into a relenting smile. I pull my hands away from my face and stare out at the quad.
Students lounge on thick plaid blankets and catch up with friends.
Farther out, a soccer ball soars between a couple of girls clad in zip-up hoodies and athletic shorts.
The breeze whips the US and New York State flags and cools the warmth of the sun’s offerings.
Panic doesn’t rise in my chest like it did last night. Instead I feel numb—like I felt over the summer when I remembered I’d never again hear my dad’s voice.
“I don’t like making promises I can’t keep,” Sumner says, a shift in his tone. “So I won’t say it will all work out.”
Another reason we are so different. I pass around reassurances like they’re an endless stream of tap water.
Madelene always knew she would kill it before going onstage and then she’d prove me right, and Jared knew he didn’t have to stress about an exam grade when I was certain he did well, because he always did.
Sometimes you need to hear the encouraging thing even if it’s not a guarantee.
I told my dad we would be okay. None of us are.
Hardness coats my throat. “I didn’t ask.”
“This, uh, isn’t coming out right,” Sumner stumbles. “All I meant was, this sucks. And it would suck to carry it alone, so just know you don’t have to.”
The sentiment unwinds the tightness in the pit of my stomach. “Okay,” I hear myself say, a hollowed echo.
In the distance, Enzo saunters out of the library. He bows toward a group of smiling girls huddled in a circle on a blanket before continuing on, a quickened merriment in his steps.
Sumner’s head tips back against the wall. I steal a sidelong glance and take in his profile. His dark under-eye circles are more prominent in the harsh sunlight.
“You look awful,” I observe.
“Please, Carmichael, say it with your whole chest.” His knuckles bump his frames up his forehead as he rubs his eyes, and then he’s standing.
Ellerby’s words wheel off my tongue. “Off to enjoy the beautiful Saturday?”
Sumner’s smile is a teeter-totter, the left side millimeters higher than the right. “Disappearing before I have to explain the precise functionality of the refrigeration system.” He begins backing away. “Again.”