Chapter 2 #2
“Good morning, everybody! Hope you had a pleasant summer.” The whole class was silent.
He continued, “As you may already recall, somebody broke into our lab room. This unfortunate event will not affect our schedule, and all classes that were supposed to be in that wing will be relocated soon.” He said, walking between desks and glancing at all of us, “If you and your friends have any information about who that could be, we strongly suggest that you notify your teachers.
Now let's not waste any more time; let's begin.”
Just as he headed to his desk, someone knocked. “Yes, you may come in,” he shouted. It was a secretary holding a small piece of paper. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have to bring one of your students to the principal's office.” Instant panic rose among the students.
“Ooh, this is exciting. I guess they already found out who did it,” Emily smiled maliciously, whispering in my direction.
“Sure, who are you looking for?” asked the professor curiously.
“Luna Bernardi. Is she in here?” My heart sank, and I was hit with gazes directed at me like arrows. Emily’s eyes were wide open: “Wicked. I guess I underestimated you,” she said, smiling.
“I didn't do anything, I swear.” Emily looked at me as if she wasn't sure if she could believe me.
Panic consumed me entirely; I hadn't done anything wrong, yet a sense of guilt was rising, preventing me from standing tall. The secretary's impatient gaze was fixed on me. “Ms. Bernardi, please follow me,” she commanded, her tone firm and unwavering. I rose slowly, my knees trembling beneath me.
“Should I grab my things?” I asked, but before she could respond, Emily waved her hand, signaling that she would handle it. As I moved, I felt the weight of curious eyes upon me.
As I got closer, I caught sight of the paper she held, my name written in blue ink. Without waiting, she started walking briskly, expecting me to keep pace. The silence of the long corridor was broken only by the rhythmic click of her heels and the frantic pounding of my heart.
In over four years, I had never set foot in the principal's office. As I walked, I racked my brain for any possible reason I might have been summoned, but nothing came to mind.
Upon reaching the door, she knocked, and a voice from within beckoned us to enter. The door swung open, and the secretary gestured for me to step inside, remaining by the entrance and closing the door behind me. I was left alone with a man I had never seen before.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, an elderly man with short gray hair and a thick yellowish mustache, gesturing toward one of the two chairs positioned in front of his dark wooden desk.
“Give me a moment,” he added, returning to his writing with an intensity that made my heart race.
I imagined it might leap from my chest, splattering all over his desk, splashing blood everywhere. What a sick thought to envision.
The silence was so thick that I could hear every scratch of his pen against the paper. The tension was unbearable. I scanned the room for any distraction.
A spacious window loomed behind him, offering a view of the courtyard below. To his right, a massive brown bookshelf reached toward the ceiling, filled with old tomes, relics of the school's illustrious history, all covered in a thick layer of dust.
On the left side, a sturdy cream-colored printer sat alongside five tall file cabinets, which formed a neat row against the matching wall.
I also noticed a half-dead ficus plant, likely neglected during the summer months.
The office felt aged, and as my gaze flitted around, I suddenly jolted at the sound of his voice breaking the silence.
“Ms. Bernardi, do you understand why you've been called here?” I hesitated momentarily.
“No, I really don't,” I replied, uncertain of what else to say.
He sighed, intertwining his fingers. “As you're aware, our school was broken into.
We've found at least a dozen empty beer bottles, some leftover food, and a multitude of cigarette butts, among other things,” he said, locking his gaze onto mine to emphasize his point.
I felt it was better to remain silent, waiting for him to continue.
“Not only did someone host a small party in there, but various student projects were damaged, models were dismantled, and profanity was scrawled across cabinets with permanent markers. Not to mention the large window that was broken and needs immediate replacement.” He paused, and I seized the moment to ask, “But how does this involve me?
I'm deeply sorry, but I don't know anything about it.” He suddenly focused his deep, dark eyes on me, seemingly trying to discern something. “Well, there's one more thing…”
Oh no, something else that suggested I had a connection to this.
My curiosity deepened. “I think it's best if I show you,” he said.
Show me. Show me what? He jumped from his seat so quickly that I almost flinched.
It looked like I was easy to scare. I followed him, but despite his hurried pace, I made no effort to match his speed.
As we approached, both fear and intrigue washed over me.
He reached for a ring of keys from his pocket that resembled those from a dungeon.
When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, I followed, freezing in disbelief.
What I saw was horrifying and left me feeling even guiltier.
My name was scrawled in thick black marker all over the walls, desks, chairs, cabinets, and even the window.
At least a thousand times. My eyes widened, and my mouth fell open.
I scanned the room, bewildered by the purpose of this: a prank, perhaps?
A very elaborate and time-consuming one.
My gaze turned to the principal, who seemed to be waiting for me to confess.
“I'm sorry, I didn't do this; it's absurd! I was at home—my parents can testify for me!” I shouted.
Why did I say 'testify'? We weren't in a courtroom. I was losing my mind.
“Look, I can't imagine you would be foolish enough to write your name at the scene of the incident. We have no suspects, and our front cameras didn't capture anything, so we're at a loss. You're the first lead we have, as you're the only one with that name in our school.”
Was I the only one with this name? This must have been the consequence of my mother wanting a unique name and naming me after the moon. 'I named you Luna because you are as beautiful as the moon that lights up the earth.'
“Do you have any idea who could have done this? Any current or ex-boyfriends or anyone who might wish you harm?” he prompted, eager to hear a name, any name.
“I'm sorry, I honestly have no idea,” I replied, still scanning the room.
“Alright then. I'll let you return to class, but if you remember anything—anything at all—please let me know. I think I'll also need to inform your parents,” he added, his gaze lingering as he stood by the door.
“My parents? Why?” I asked, bewildered.
“Well, the police are viewing this as a potential threatening message and have advised me to inform you and your family.”
“Oh, gosh.” This was definitely not the kind of first day my parents had envisioned…
“Are you sure you can find your way to class?” he asked me, searching my face for reassurance.
He stared at me until I finally nodded. “Oh, and the police might want to have a word with you too, but I think they'll be asking the same questions, so don't stress about it,” he added, likely sensing the panic in my expression.
As I made my way to class, the bell rang, and a throng of students flooded the hallway. I moved through the crowd in a daze, barely aware of where I was headed.
“Hey, Blondie! You look like you've seen a ghost,” a voice called out. I turned my head to the left and spotted a group that Emily and I had dubbed the Vipers: three guys and a girl.
The girl, if I remembered correctly, was named Valentina, but she preferred to call herself 'Vendetta' or just 'V.
' She had piercings all over her face and tongue, as well as a few in places I didn't even want to think about.
Her short purple hair was styled with one side shaved, and she always dressed in black with dark makeup.
Rumor had it that she was the school's information hub, using her knowledge to manipulate others into doing her bidding: everything from fetching coffee to completing homework. She had gained a lot of popularity the previous year for her ability to solve anyone's problems.
Next to her was Claudio, who went by Clous—a name reminiscent of Santa Claus, albeit with a twist, as he could procure anything you desired. Not just drugs, but literally anything else you could think of.
He stood around my height, maybe 5'6" or 5'7", with long platinum-blonde hair and a penchant for wearing red or green, making him look a bit like a twisted version of Santa. His dark, onyx-colored eyes gave him a creepy look, and his wild pranks were notorious for reducing classmates to tears.
Then there were the two 'normal' ones, devoid of outrageous hair or attire.
Giacomo, who went by Jake, was the apparent leader with his wavy dark hair on top and shaved sides.
He typically wore skinny jeans, simple t-shirts, and leather or denim jackets.
He was undeniably handsome, with light-brown eyes, puffy lips, and a perfectly shaped nose.
Tall too, but the tallest among them was Zachary, known as Zane.
I didn't know much about him since I had never seen him speak. He seemed to be a shadowy presence within the group. His role was a mystery, but he had clearly transformed.