Cheshire Girl

Ch. 36

The next two weeks went smoothly… but there's always a calm before the storm (right?)

                It was March.  Sophomore, junior, and senior counseling had started, mostly classes and tests and colleges and stuff.  The freshmen had gotten their four-year plans out of the way at the start of the school year.  Many of the counselors, including Principal Wyatt, were going to be meeting with students for the next two months or so.

                In English, Thomas Wyatt and his cronies still hadn't bothered me, which was great.  They pretty much ignored me.  Why?  I don't know, but I grew tired of expecting something. 

                I was doing fine in most of my classes.

                I didn't feel any stress regarding Ethan and his search for the pages.  I'd stopped obsessing over them just so that Ethan could start.  The upside was that we'd finished our biology project early because we were one of the first projects to present.

                Mr. C had us begin to fill out the program for the Spring Concert… and Charlie and I still hadn't picked a song.

                We had gone looking for the place New Girl had been running through at school before she ended up in the woods.  The problem was that there were a lot of spaces in the buildings that weren't open to students.  The few places we were allowed to look through, where there was mostly concrete, didn't match up with my dream.  There was no sense of familiarity or déjà vu. 

                My New Girl dreams had returned, but I actually grew bored of them.  Nothing changed.  New Girl and I were still running through the woods.  I wasn't even scared anymore.  Beatrice didn't visit me either.

                This was the calm before the storm, which hit one March afternoon.

*

It started the night before, when the dull routine of my running dreams changed like a punch to the lungs.

                I—or New Girl… or the both of us—were in a cramped, dark place.  I couldn't see anything, but it was that back-of-your-mind feeling that the walls of whatever small space we occupied began to close in on us and it felt like the air in my lungs was being pulled out.  It was worse than drowning, since you could at least hold your breath and freely panic.

                I woke up the next morning gasping for air, flailing around in my sheets.

                It was only six in the morning.  Not even Mom was up yet.  I could still have that hour of sleep, but there was no way that was happening.

                My room was cold, but I fought through it and got up.  I went to go take a shower, to get my brain going now that I had a lot to think about.

                The calm of the last two weeks, of being normal with the odd recurring dream, was definitely over.  I could feel it the second I'd calmed down.  Beatrice was going to put me back to work.  And it couldn't just be me.  She chose today of all days for a reason.  Beatrice knew what was coming.

*

I went back to being Bella the Actress.  Mom didn't suspect a thing.  The last two weeks had been great with her, since there were no secrets between us.

                I'd already told her about our house being haunted, and she chose not to believe it.  I still had told her the truth, so that couldn't be held against me.

                Charlie didn't suspect anything either, which was a relief since we had grown close enough to read each other like children's books.  Most of our time had been devoted to finding a song to sing for the Spring Concert, which was only a week or so away, but it was difficult.  Charlie wanted a duet, but I would much rather just sing back-up for her.  Charlie had a beautiful voice with a wide range.  She could sing anything, from the glass-shattering highs of Mariah Carey, to the low and bold sounds of Lorde—her current favorite artist.

                Ethan hadn't shown up to biology… maybe even to school.  I hadn't seen his black truck in the morning, but I had just assumed I'd beaten him.  An office aide had come into the classroom with a slip for Ethan to go see a counselor.

                Cynthia continued to avoid me.  Well, not avoid me so much as that she just didn't notice me anymore.  She looked preoccupied all the time.  Even her suck-up friends didn't call much attention to her.  She'd dropped out of her solo for the Spring Concert.

                It was during choir that I was called in to see a counselor.

                The administration office was full of kids… and a lot of them looked concerned.  I asked a kid and he said that their current grades were going to affect what classes they were going to take in the next year or two.  It seemed the group I was called in with had trouble in their classes, so, then, yes I started to worry about my own grades.

                I didn't notice many of the kids stepping out from the offices until I spotted Cynthia's little sister, Catherine.  Her eyes were blotchy like she'd been crying.  I remembered Cynthia briefly saying her little sister had been stressed lately, so maybe it was her grades.  Although, it couldn't have been math.  Catherine kicked ass in that class.

                Once she was gone, I was called in next.  To my relief, I learned I was doing fine in all my classes—although, my math grade could always go higher.  I was also told about colleges, even though I had no idea what I wanted to study.  The counselor, Mr. Tate, said it was completely fine.

                By the time I left the office, it was sixth period, so that meant Econ.  A few kids were called out of class, and some returned from their counseling sessions, a few with grim expressions.  It surprised me how many kids didn't seem to be doing well.

                A text jolted me up in the middle of Mr. Shaddock's lecture.  I excused myself to the restroom.

                It was a text from Ethan, which was a surprise.  I didn't know he had my number.

                The minor shock of that was washed away completely after I read that he was with Charlie and that I needed to get to my car immediately.

                The familiar sense of dread I'd felt this morning engulfed me and I ran back to class.

                I showed Mr. Shaddock my counseling note—which I'd thankfully kept—and that I needed to take my stuff.  Unbelievably, he believed me.

                I ran out into the parking lot, spotting Ethan's truck near my car.  I could see them sitting inside.  I didn't understand why I'd assumed something bad.  As I neared, I could see they were holding each other in the backseat.  Back together?

                Of course, as I neared, I could see two things quite plainly.

                First, someone had keyed my car, all along the driver's side, from front to back.  It didn't take much brain energy to guess who'd done it.

                Second, Charlie was sobbing.

                I jumped inside the driver's seat and shut the door.  "What the hell is going on?"  I looked to both of them.

                Charlie's face was buried in his shoulder.  "She won't tell me," Ethan said over her sobs, "only you."

                "It—" she began, "—it's Mr…. Mr. Wyatt—"  I could feel my stomach drop.  "He—he raped me."