Chapter 32. Lorena #2
“What, no valet service?” asks Salma.
Tiffany grins, but the expression freezes on her face as she spots the cast. “What’s this?!” she asks. “You didn’t say anything about it!”
I guess they kept in touch over break. Tiffany rushes to Salma’s other side, so that the three of us are sharing a mattress. “What happened?” she asks.
“I was going through my mom’s things on a high shelf in her closet, and I lost my balance. Fell wrong on my elbow.”
“You’re trading beds with her, aren’t you?” Tiffany asks me, and the question irks me. It’s my job to protect Salma, not hers.
“Whatever you want,” I say to Sal, as if she’d asked the question.
“Dinner starts soon,” says Tiffany, springing to her feet. She snaps open her coat, all the buttons unlocking, and she’s wearing her uniform underneath. She’s paired the miniskirt with gray winter stockings.
Salma is wearing the pants version this time, just like me. Only hers is all black.
While we walk toward the dining hall, Tiffany asks her, “So did you get the chance to see Cat’s profile? Her parents’ house is as big as this school!”
Salma nods and asks, “Did you see what I sent you about Jada? She qualified for the US gymnastics team.”
“No wonder she’s the best in our PE class.”
“You run faster than her,” Salma points out, and Tiffany can’t suppress her grin.
When we get to dinner, it feels like there are more eyes on us than usual. Something about Huntington feels different on this side of break … as if the innocence we enjoyed before is gone. We’ve lost our anonymity.
Our table is set for five, and the fact that the space for William has been removed makes his absence all the more palpable.
The guys are not here yet, and we pluck plates off the table on our way to the buffet. Salma and Tiffany return before me, and when I pull out my usual chair next to my best friend, she picks up her plate and moves to Tiffany’s other side.
Without a word, I slide into Salma’s now-vacant chair, next to our roommate, and I can’t even look at Tiffany because I don’t want to see her gloat.
Then the whole dining hall starts to quiet down, and I look up to see why: Trevor and Zach have arrived, and as they stride to our table, nearly all our classmates are staring at them.
Zach’s gaze is on the floor, but Trevor is soaking in all the attention, and he rests an arm around Zach’s shoulders, a broad grin taking over his face.
His smile wilts when he reaches us. “What happened to you?” he asks as soon as he sees Salma’s arm.
“Sprain,” she says without even looking up at him from her tofu salad.
“Got a Sharpie so we can sign?” he asks.
“Nope.” She still doesn’t look up, and Trevor’s gaze slides to me as if I might be able to explain her newfound coldness toward him.
Welcome to the club.
“Hey,” says Zach to Tiffany. “You were pretty quiet over break.”
“Sorry,” she says, not bothering to look up, either. “Figured you’d be busy writing a follow-up piece.”
Follow-up piece?
Trevor claps Zach on the back. “Our boy is going to be a famous reporter!”
Zach shakes off Trevor’s hand. “I’m not,” he says, his gaze flicking to Tiffany. But she’s still staring down at the bowl of cheesy bow tie pasta she’s devouring.
Guess she’s no longer trying to be vegan like Salma.
“The pictures were cool,” Salma says to Zach, casting an apologetic glance at Tiffany. “You definitely got everyone talking about Huntington.”
“Just imagine how people will react when you break the story on the LUB,” says Trevor. “You better interview us for that piece.”
“Tiffany will break that one,” says Zach, earning her attention. “I’m going to handle the photography and editing.”
“Zach.”
A student with a crest of blue hair approaches. Fran extends a hand to him and says, “Congratulations, ace.”
“Thanks,” he says.
“Your story got picked up by other outlets, and they’re all going to say: ‘Originally printed in The Hunter.’ You put our paper on the map! Mrs. Sullivan and I are compiling a full list of journalism awards, and we’ll be submitting the issue with your piece.”
“I want some dessert,” says Tiffany, her pasta bowl still half full.
Salma stands up with her in solidarity. But first she says to Fran, “Your article in The Hunter said workers were going to try setting up Wi-Fi over break, but I’m still not seeing any networks.”
Fran gives a small shake of their head that comes off as resignation. “I asked Minaro, and she said they told her the problem is bigger than they realized. They might not get it resolved at all this school year. What happened to your arm?”
I look at the staff table while Salma answers, and the director faces her neighbor, like they’re both deep in conversation. But I get the distinct impression she was looking at us just a moment ago. Only it’s impossible for her to hear us from that far away, unless—
No.
If she was a vampire, William would have known.
“So, the LUB tonight?” asks Trevor when we’ve all finished eating. As usual, his eyes are on Salma, as if her answer were the only one that mattered.
“Not for me,” she says. “I still have to finish the Pride and Prejudice essay due tomorrow. Let’s get going.”
She looks at Tiffany when she says this, but the rest of us stand up, too. Trevor takes off with a scowl, not even waiting for Zach. I’m trailing behind Tiffany and Salma when I feel a hand close around mine.
Zach tugs me away from the others, and my roommates don’t notice as the two of us slip into the classroom where we spoke in private last time.
“Hey,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was, um, wondering if you’ve heard from William at all?”
I shake my head. “He must’ve gotten pulled onto a more urgent case,” I say.
“Right. You think he’ll be back to finish this investigation?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but … you’ve seemed kind of down since he left. Did you have real feelings for him? I’m not judging you if you did—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. There’s been too much William talk today, and my heart feels like a pincushion. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he says with a shrug.
“What story did you write that everyone’s talking about?”
“It’s from the last issue we distributed before break.
The piece I was working on about the founding of the school was on the front page.
I wrote a short article to go with a photo series because I wanted the pictures to tell the story.
The photos got picked up online, and I guess they’ve been reposted all over. ”
“Oh—that’s so cool,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
“I imagine it’s pretty distracting being drafted into an undercover investigation,” he says, and as usual, I hear no judgment in his voice.
I try to give him a small smile, but it feels more like a grimace. The whole walk to the third tower, I can’t stop thinking of how much of my friends’ lives I’ve missed out on.
Have I been so distracted by William that I’ve ignored everyone around me?
LONG AFTER my roommates have passed out, I remain wide awake.
It feels strange to be lying on the top bunk bed, and I stare out the window, willing the vampire to appear.
Even though that’s the last thing I should want. As long as he’s far from me, I’m safe, along with everyone I love. Besides, there’s only one reason he would return, and that’s to get rid of any evidence he left behind.
His possessions, my video, me.
When I can’t stand it anymore, I get dressed as quietly as I can, and I sneak out of the room. I keep to the shadows as I make my way to the cordoned-off passage, and as I step over the red rope, I feel like I’m getting closer to William.
I slip into the wardrobe, and eventually the narrow corridor spills into the LUB. My breath catches as I spot his tall silhouette between the stacks, head buried in a book.
As if sensing me, he raises his face to mine, and my heart skips like an old record.
“Hey,” says Trevor, stepping out from the shadowy stacks.
“Hey,” I say, my pulse slowing to its normal pace.
“Couldn’t sleep, either?”
I shake my head.
“I’m … sorry William is gone.” It sounds like it took him some effort to say that word.
“You are?” I ask, arching my brow.
“No,” he says with a crooked smirk. “But I know it must suck for you.”
“I’ll survive.”
His expression grows more serious. “Look, I know I’m not your first choice for someone to talk to, and there’s probably no better friend than Salma, but…
” He shrugs, and I can see that he’s ventured beyond his comfort zone.
“If you’re ever in need of a less sensitive ear, or someone who will probably say the wrong thing, well, you’re looking at him. ”
Now we’re both smiling, and it’s weird, but I do feel a little better. I notice the book in his hands has a green cover, but it’s not the one William took from him and his memory.
“Anything interesting in there?” I ask.
Trevor is frowning at the text, as if it disappointed him. “Before break, I started to feel a draw to some of the books in here. The ones with green covers. It’s like I know something important about them, but I’ve forgotten what it is. I’m probably not making any sense.”
Guilt nibbles at my gut. “I guess we spent so long searching these books for a drop of ink that maybe some part of you still hasn’t given up.”
He looks like he’s considering that, and he nods vaguely. Since he seems less guarded than usual tonight, I ask, “What did you do that was so bad your parents sent you here? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“What didn’t I do?” A devious glint crosses his greenish eyes.
“Stole my dad’s boat for a weekend and took the football team on a trip to Catalina Island.
Hired male strippers to crash last year’s prom—still haven’t been caught for that.
But I did get caught sleeping with one of my mom’s best friends last year, which was probably what sealed their decision to send me away. ”
He winces, as if just realizing something. “Could you not tell Salma about that last one?”
“You really like her, huh?” I keep my tone gentle so he knows his secrets are safe with me.
“Back home, I’m always the one trying to keep things casual. This is the first time a girl’s doing it to me, and I bet you think I deserve it.”
“I don’t think that,” I say. “Since we were little, Salma knew she wanted to travel the world and go on adventures—the only things she’s never wanted are a boyfriend or a husband or even a family.”
“Damn.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I was sent away here, too. I did something stupid last year that nearly destroyed my mom’s career.”
“You mean drinking and smoking at that party?” he asks, like it’s common knowledge.
“That’s amateur. One of my friends who’s an actor invited me to the wrap party for his movie over the summer, and I got so drunk that I got into a fistfight with the director.
I’ve been banned from all future parties hosted by a certain studio that I’m discouraged from naming. ”
I shake my head in awe. “That is quite a repertoire, Mr. Cross. But … why did you do all those things?”
The good humor seems to fade from his face a bit, his mouth tightening at the edges, and I worry I shouldn’t have asked.
“Have you heard of the Masons and the Illuminati?”
“Yeah, they’re like secret societies, right?”
“Not so secret because you’ve heard of them.
I was born into a real secret society. Mine is one of the highest-ranking families, which means my future has been planned for me since conception.
I’m supposed to work for my father and one day replace him.
” He rolls his eyes, then he blows out a hard breath.
“I’ve never told anyone any of this before. ”
“I won’t say anything,” I say, my pulse quickening. “But what does this secret society do?”
His eyes widen in warning.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”