Chapter Eight
Sky
I ’m having the best dream. One where I’m feeling things I haven’t felt since before Chase. One where I’m crying out in pleasure instead of fear. One where an incessant thumping is annoying me. What the heck?
I peel my heavy eyelids open, losing images of Cade that I shouldn’t be having anyway, and squint at Ruby’s alarm clock. It’s only seven a.m., and I still have an hour before I have to wake up. But someone is banging on… a pot?
“Up and at em’, girls!” a woman hollers from beyond the door.
“Ughhhh,” Ruby groans and throws her pillow at the door just as it opens. The black cased pillow lands at the feet of a mountain of a woman that’s clutching no other than an actual steel pot and a wooden spoon.
“Five minutes, girls!” she bellows and tucks the pot beneath her arm before snatching the pillow from the floor and throwing it back at Ruby.
“God! Are we not even afforded sleep in this place?” Ruby picks a different pillow and holds it over her head.
The woman rolls her eyes and backs out, closing the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” I croak as the banging starts again.
“Fucking authoritarian diplomacy at its finest,” Ruby grumbles from beneath the pillow.
Well, that doesn’t help at all.
I’m dressed only three minutes later, despite how desperately I just wanted to fall back asleep. I’ve never slept that good, like my typically tense muscles finally relaxed and my brain actually shut down for once. I wonder if Ruby will ask for the vape pen back, and how much she would want for it if she does.
She still hasn’t gotten out of bed, and is instead scrolling through her phone as I run a brush through my hair. I don’t know about her, but I’m trying to not get in trouble, so if the woman with the pan wants me up, I’m up.
I don’t need anything going back to my father—if my tardiness hasn’t already. I glance at my phone on the nightstand, probably near death since I haven’t charged it since being here, and think about checking it quickly, but then decide against it. If he wanted me to have to listen to his scolding, he shouldn’t have sent me off to a boarding school.
I don’t bother plugging it in either. No one else has the number, anyway. I changed it after the catalog of obscenities that flooded my messages. I just couldn’t stomach it anymore. The ones from people I had never even spoken to didn’t bother me that much, but the ones from people I thought were my friends maimed me in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.
I slap down my hair brush and grab the phone, quickly putting it in the drawer before my thoughts spiral any further. I’m thousands of miles away from all that, and I don’t need any reminders of it tainting my life here.
Ruby groans at the sound of the drawer slamming shut, and finally gets out of bed. She’s in an oversized band tee that is so faded that I can’t make out the writing on the front and knee-high socks that have bunched up around her ankles.
“Could you be any louder?” she snaps at me, and starts rooting around in the pile of clothes on the base of her bed.
“Sorry,” I say, not being able to snap back at her when she’s bare faced.
She’s practically doll-like in her features, with her icy blonde bob complimenting her rosy cheeks. The idea of being mean to her feels closely like slapping Tinkerbell.
“Rule number two, no noise before nine a.m.,” she says, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants.
“Got it,” I say, and she slowly narrows her eyes at me.
“What’s got you so agreeable?” she asks suspiciously. “If it’s because I lent you my pen, don’t let it go to your head. We aren’t friends or anything. I just didn’t want you to barf all over me.”
I suck in my lips to stop from laughing. It’s impossible to take her attitude seriously when she’s so cute.
“Got it,” I manage to say again.
She continues to shoot daggers at me as a quick knock sounds on the door, and then swings open.
“Girls?” The woman pokes her head in. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
* * *
Our entire floor is lined up outside their respective doors, and I have no clue what is going on, but I stand straight as Martha—our housemother and the one who banged on pot—smiles like a drill sergeant.
“For those of you who have spent your whole high school career at Hillcrest, you know what this moment defines. For those of you haven’t, let me make it clear,” Martha shouts down the hallway as she paces it, hands clasped behind her back.
Most of the girls roll their eyes, looking worse for wear as they yawn, and I eye everyone’s pajamas. A little self consciously, I pull down at the skirt of my uniform that I threw on. It seems I’m the only one that actually got dressed.
“Your roommate is not just someone you happen to share a living space with,” Martha continues. “They are your confidant, your supporter, and your sister for the next year. I will not tolerate any cattiness in Lamb Hall.”
I give a side eye to Ruby, but she’s leaning against our door with her eyes closed.
“I understand the connotations of the term boarding school , but here at Hillcrest, make no mistake, we are a family. So, to give our students a little nudge in the right direction, we’ll be performing a bonding exercise. This is something we do every year, and while I know that it is early, and you teens are a grumpy bunch, I’ll have you know that the freshmen on the first floor were up long before you, excited to bond with their sisters.”
“Yeah, right,” Ruby grumbles under her breath, and I can’t help but agree.
There’s no way any of these girls, freshmen or not, got up willingly, excited to be forced into friendship with someone they didn’t choose.
“Okay. Let’s get this started before you girls are late for class.”
A minute later, I’m staring blankly at Ruby without a clue what secret to entrust her with. Certainly not the one that got me sent here. As far as I’m concerned, that never happened. But without it, my mind comes up blank. Secrets were typically something that could turn on me, so instead, I just refrained from doing anything that I would need to hide. I could make up a lie. It would be easy, and help us bond. The same way it helped Dorothy soften toward me. But any secret worthy of concocting would need to be salacious, and I don’t want something indecent spreading. I got enough of that back home.
“Of course, little miss perfect doesn’t have anything to divulge,” Ruby says.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Do I really give off that vibe? Little miss perfect? Did she not—just last night—give me actual weed? I’ll admit, I don’t wear makeup or faded shirts to bed, but I’m not perfect. I know that for a fact. If I was, my father wouldn’t have anything to complain about.
“Fine, then. What’s your secret?” I ask.
We are both supposed to tell each other something that no one else knows, and then keep it in our hearts forever. It’s a nice sentiment, just not for teen girls.
“I sucked Bentley’s dick during a Romeo and Juliet lecture in the back of Mrs. Lavia’s class.”
My mouth falls open, but she just shrugs. Okay. Wow. I was not expecting that.
“Actually,” A red head across from us leans over. “That’s not a secret.” She gives a vicious smile to Ruby, her ultra processed white teeth gleaming cruelly.
“I heard you swallowed,” she continues. “Tell me, what does scum taste like?” She tilts her head, and her poor roommate shifts uncomfortably.
“It tastes just like your daddy’s,” Ruby drawls back quickly, but folds her arms across her chest, her eyes burning with something that looks like pain. “Rupert, right?” Ruby tries to give back a bitchy smile, but it lacks oomph.
The redhead rears back and narrows her eyes. “How do you know my dad’s name?”
“All the girls know his name. I guess he really gets around,” Ruby volleys.
“God, you are such a skank.”
My skin flushes at the word, and something in me snaps.
“Takes one to know one,” I say, stepping in front of Ruby.
The girl’s eyes dart between us, and I realize I’ve just drawn an invisible line in the sand. For better or worse, I am now on Ruby’s side.
“I am not a skank.”
“Is that because no guy will fuck you or…?” The profanity tastes delicious on my tongue. I should use it more often.
“You bitch, who the fuck—”
“Girls! Focus on your roommates!” Martha shouts from down the hall.
I quickly blink and turn to our housemother, flashing an embarrassed smile. It’s not saccharine. I’ve perfected it to pass the hard glare of my father. One that embodies, Who me? I’m innocent, without all the faux remorse that people can see right through.
The redhead has gotten back in line with her roommate, but she’s staring me down like I killed her dog. Great, I now have an enemy.
When Martha makes her way down the hall, making sure everyone has spilled their guts, me and Ruby nod at her without a single secret shared. But in the realm of bonding, I think me standing in front of her counts for more.
At least, I hope it does, because Martha tells us we are doing trust falls next.
“I’ll catch you first,” I tell Ruby. Maybe if she sees that I won’t drop her, then she won’t purposely drop me.
“If you don’t catch me, I’ll literally put snakes in your bed.”
I roll my eyes, but she turns around anyway.
All down the hall girls whisper one, two, three, at different intervals, and bodies start falling.
“You count,” I tell her, and put my arms out.
She shoots a look over her shoulder. “I swear if you don’t—”
“Oh, my god. Get on with it,” I say, wondering why I would drop her if I’m little miss perfect.
She whips her head around, counts, and then falls. I catch her no problem, and then help her back to her feet.
“See? I got you.” I beam.
“Whatever. Your turn.” She nods for me to turn around.
But once I do, I suddenly realize how nerve-wracking this is. How am I supposed to trust fall with someone I just met? I eye the redhead across from us as she catches her roommate. It’s less than graceful, and she looks down at her hands like she just touched crap. But if that piece of work didn’t drop her roommate, then surely Ruby will catch me.
“Do you want me to count?” I ask as I cross my arms over my chest.
“No, I want you to bark,” Ruby says.
I sigh. Good to know catching her didn’t win me any points.
I start to count, and realize how awful this is. What’s next? Are the teachers going to start whipping knuckles with their rulers? This never would have flown at my public school. Students would have complained about their lack of safety, and parents would have had the practice abolished.
I hesitate when I get to three, hoping like hell that Ruby catches me, and steel myself. My body drifts back, and I go weightless, squeezing my eyes shut.
A thump sounds behind me just as I’m expecting to get caught, but I keep falling. Oh, fuck . I throw my arms out, tensing for impact. She really didn’t even try. She really didn’t even try. My anger is cut short as I clatter to the hardwood, and pain shoots up my elbow. The bone smacks off the door frame, and I land hard on my butt, barely keeping my head up to prevent it from hitting the wall. I’m momentarily stunned by the jolt.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck.” Ruby is suddenly leaning over me, but she’s practically drowned out by the redhead laughing.
“Seriously?” I snap, pushing myself up a bit and cradling my arm. There’s something wet and warm sluicing between my fingers, and I crane my elbow to see that the skin is cracked open and bleeding.
“Are you okay?” Ruby tries to take my wrist, but I shove her away.
“I would be if you had caught me,” I seethe as I realize the rest of the floor has turned and is gaping at me down on the floor. A few have wide eyes, but most are snickering. Because it’s just so funny to see someone bleeding.
“I was—” Ruby tries.
“Thanks a lot,” I cut her off.
I can’t believe she didn’t catch me. Sure, she’s been less than friendly, but to just openly let me fall? And in front of everyone?
“I didn’t—” she tries again.
Martha’s pointy boots slap down in front of us.
“Just one year, one year , I would like to make it without one of you girls pulling something like this. And to think we were so close. I expect more from you all. You’re seniors for goodness sake.” Her face is red, lips set in a grim line, as she looks down at me.
It feels like she’s chastising me as well, when I’m the one who got dropped. I don’t like being chastised.
“To the infirmary,” she says.
“I’m fine. I just need a paper towel.”
“And you’ll find one in the infirmary.” She plants her hands on her hips.
I take a breath to stop myself from snapping at her, remembering that my father may not be around, but words do get around, and finally concede with a nod.
When I push myself to my feet, I shoot Ruby a withering look. She huffs and rushes back into our room, slamming the door behind her.