School of Secrets (The Perkins School for Self Improvement #1)

Chapter 13

Atwater holds his ground.

"I'm afraid that you will have to wait your turn," he proclaims, "I can take you to the administration building, but there are a number of people waiting in line ahead of you."

"This is insane!" the woman shouts, pushing a strand of her blonde hair behind one ear, "Insane, do you hear me? After what happened here, you should have some sort of system! You should make this a faster process, so that if I want to pull my daughter from your pathetic excuse of a school, I can do it quickly. I'm an actress, I star in movies! I don't have time to sit here and listen to you ramble on. You're wasting my time and keeping me from finding the next big role. You're lucky we were close by when this happened. At least we didn't waste a fortune to fly first-class out here."

"Ma'am, I apologize," Professor Atwater raises his voice slightly, his tone authoritative, "we have a system this morning, and it is a fair one. No person's time is less or more important than another's, and all will be met with in due time."

"Hastings," shouts the woman, "Juliana Hastings! Does that sound familiar to you? None of them may be more important than the others, but I could put them all to shame. I'm famous, Professor, and in my world time is money."

Atwater looks away from her, and I catch him rolling his eyes as he ushers her forward alongside her husband. He looks across the lot at my lit professor, mouthing something to her. She nods, and Atwater hustles the pair of parents toward the administration building without another word.

Atwater returns a few minutes later,resuming his position near the gate. He gets several more angry parents over the course of the afternoon, but none compare to the furious actress.

At dinner, Derek brings his astronomy book into the cafeteria. Over our identical plates of casserole, we carry out a halfhearted study session.

Neither of us are doing that well, and twice I forget what page our last chapter started on.

I miss Creighton, miss Amber even more.

The cafeteria is serving dinner for longer than usual to accommodate the last of the parental figures. It's seven o'clock when I walk out, and I can see a handful of them maneuvering through line or sitting with their kids at a table.

Taking advantage of the lengthened dinner period, Derek stays behind to finish the casserole he left unattended during our earlier round of studying.

I need some air, though, so I step out into the cooling September evening.

Voices reach me almost as soon as I walk out of the classroom building, and instinct has me frozen on the top step.

There's almost no one out here, with the exception being a family gathered at one of the stone benches. It's the same bench I sat on when the police questioned me, the one that looks straight on at the lion-shaped fountain.

A girl sits on the bench, staring silently at the two adults before her. The woman is the same aggravated mother from this morning, and she's still pursued by her husband.

With a jolt, I recognize the woman's last name.

Hastings.

The realization would mean nothing to me if I didn't also recognize the girl sitting on the bench.

The shoulder-length blonde hair and the startlingly blue eyes give Creighton away pretty quickly, despite how pale and exhausted she looks.

I leave the steps of the classroom building, moving quickly and quietly to stand on the opposite side of the fountain, obscured from their view.