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ST. ATARAH'S SCHOOL OCTOBER 31
FOR TROUBLED GIRLS 1994
EARLY MORNING, HALLOWE'EN.
The air is brisk as it nips at the exposed bare skin between the rips in her stockings, a frosty chill stabbing a thousand knives into her lungs she seems unable to rid of, fleeting misty clouds unpleasantly tingle her chapped lips, and the brief warmth stings against her numb palms.
Lavinia bounces from one foot to the other, toeing the damp sidewalk and listening as fallen leaves crunch beneath her heavy boots. It was colder than it usually was for October, a forbidding grey that lines the horizon with nimbostratus clouds, and a chill her blazer cannot fight off no matter how many times she draws it tighter around her body. It's simply too cold outside to enjoy any time spent with Katalina and yet here she is, watching with a mix of awed jealousy as Katalina sits on the edge of the large stone railing, one leg crossed over the other and a cig between her teeth — she looks so fucking cool that the jealousy threatens to crack the sidewalk and swallow her whole, regardless of the fact that this is her best friend, and for once she is not the outsider.
"Oh, are you cold?" Katalina asks, clouds of smoke scattering with every breath.
Lavinia nods, blows another breath of air into her hands no matter how much it stings, "It's bloody cold out here."
"Poor baby." Katalina mocks, pouting as she inhales from the cig. A twinge of jealousy, a stab of spite. "What ever shall we do?"
"Piss off." Lavinia scorns, following the trail of falling leaves with her eyes. "Since when do you smoke?"
Katalina furrows her brows in thought and shrugs, twirls the cig between her fingers, "Have for a while, Avie. Where d'you think I've been disappearing too?"
Lavinia shrugs and drops her gaze to her boots. They're covered in smudges of dirt and dried mud, and there's a faint white line on the tip above her toes from where she drags them against the concrete when she wants to cause a ruckus. She never did think about where Katalina was wandering off too, truthfully. She just knew that every few hours she'd slip out of sight and reappear coughing, voice thick and wheezing in a way that still makes her jealous, even if she now knows the reason behind it. Thought you were sick of me, she wants to say, thought you were off making new friends.
"Don't know."
And she doesn't. She doesn't know a damn thing about Katalina. For all the nights that they whisper between the hollow space of their beds and cause girls like Giavanna to cry in the corridors, she could never confidently answer a single question about the brunette. Did Katalina have siblings? Were her parents together? Or better yet, were they even alive? And what was it that caused her father to snap and send her to a school for troubled girls? There were so many what's and why's that remained unanswered, half-truths and well devised lies that made her skin flare with a sudden heat when Katalina so much as brushed up against her. She's like an enigma, when Lavinia thinks about her. Some ancient book about unsolved crimes that the further you read the more you uncover, but it never truly makes sense. It's all pages that are out of turn, mismatched words strewn together to form a sentence, and just when you think you've figured out the mystery of it all, another piece of evidence makes itself known that has you solving it from the very beginning.
Katalina is untouchable in her sense of self and dignity. Amour-propre, if Lavinia had to think of a word to describe it. She holds only herself in the highest of regards, and when asked, Katalina would tell her that no one else could ever come close to rising above it. And perhaps it's the unknown that draws Lavinia to her, that idea of dismantling Katalina's amour-propre that appeals so much to her, but day and night she fights with herself to figure it out. She wants to know what it is that makes her Katalina. Tell me your secrets, she wants to whisper, evince your soul bare to me. But if she can't bring herself to pry with Harry, how is she to pry with Katalina? She doesn't know a damn thing about Katalina, but Katalina doesn't know a damn thing about her. And she often finds herself wondering if perhaps she's better off to keep it that way.
"Well," Katalina starts, unfazed by her pauses of silence as she usually is. "It's ridiculously easy to bribe the older students into buying them for me."
"Really?" That has certainly piqued Lavinia's interest.
Katalina smugly nods and stretches her arm out, dangling the cig in front of her in an almost mocking way, "Want a puff?"
She shouldn't. She knows that. Feels it so deep within her bones that it rattles her mind around until it's nothing but mush and incoherent thoughts. She thinks that if anyone were able to look into her mind and read her thoughts that they just might send her to a mad house; mooie jongen... Kat will you like me more if... mooie jongen I miss you... Kat can you just... Harry... Harry... She feels like maybe she is cursed with the constant unease of never knowing when they'll abandon her next. She's unlovable, unwanted, a burden in the lives of those around her. Her mother has drilled it into her since she was a child, and what difference does it make that she has Harry and Katalina on her side now? Alida may not be many things, but she knows without a doubt, that her mother is viciously brutal and she wants to be nothing like her. But things rarely ever go as planned, and they certainly don't for Lavinia Vinke.
You're no better than your mother, she's thinking, wrapping your greedy fingers around anything that'll numb you. Still, in the end she is no better than her mother, and isn't all that surprised when she finds herself reaching a hand out and plucking the cig from between Katalina's fingers. She thinks it might make Katalina like her more ( and what a fucking lie because it won't ) might make Katalina view her as almost as cool as herself and keep her around for longer. Like she isn't some incurable disease you find yourself burdened with at the most inopportune moments.
Lavinia lifts the cig to her mouth, hovers it just a smidge before her lips and sends a dubious look towards Katalina. The smell wafts throughout the air and she isn't quite sure she likes it. It's like her heads been shoved into a pile of actively burning paper and chemicals, with a hint of mind-numbing lethargy. It's all too suffocating and reminds her of the multiple late nights where she caught Christiaan smoking in the rusty worn down beige patio chair, watching the stars with the same mix of awed jealousy she watches Katalina with. But his was always for a different reason; the idea of life and death, that floating between the planes of blissful ignorance and gut-wrenching acceptance as the Gods judge where your soul deserves to rest. He'd craved the concept of nothing like one craves sweets, that tenebrous space you find yourself in when you close your eyes — bliss or purgatory, he'd always said, and she thinks that perhaps in death he may be happier than he ever was when he was alive, despite the gruesome details surrounding it.
"Deep inhale." Katalina says, watching her in curious wonder. "Put the butt in your mouth and inhale, not much to it."
Lavinia nods and brings the cig closer to her lips, "Brilliant." She says, hoping Katalina can't see how much her hand is visibly shaking.
When she does finally rest the cig between her teeth and inhales, she's really fucking confused as to why Katalina enjoys smoking as much as she does. The smoke burns against the back of her throat and painfully constricts her lungs. The numbing catches her off guard, and when Katalina says, 'inhale to the lungs or it's a waste!' she starts to uncontrollably cough. And the coughing good god, each one burns the back of her throat even more, vision blurring as her eyes water.
"Holy... shit." Lavinia thickly coughs, all but throws the cig back to Katalina. "Jesus Christ, Kat, that's fucking brutal."
Katalina loudly snorts and hops off the stone railing, "It takes some getting used too." She drops the cig to the ground and grinds it down with the tip of her boot. "Stand up straight, Avie, lessens the burn. And whatever you do don't take deep breaths just yet — there you go, babe, you're all fine. Fun, eh?"
Lavinia grimaces and rubs her palm against her chest, hoping it'll soothe the fire that's been ignited, "Fun? Have you gone mental?"
"Mental sounds so snobby. I'd say it's more... living a bit recklessly, no?" Katalina smiles, clapping her on the shoulder.
"If you hate your lungs maybe." Lavinia quips, trying not to think about how much she likes the tingle in her throat with every breath. "Now that you're done can we go in? It's still cold, you know."
Katalina's eyes twinkle as she leans against the railing, "Now where's the fun in that? I'd rather we skive off Mr Hespler's class. Did you hear it's his last one?"
"Yes, I did." Lavinia wickedly grins, leaning her back against the railing and propping her elbows up on it. "Charlie pulled me aside after dinner yesterday to tell me he was being fired — said she took to overseeing he was actually fired and not just transferred."
The matching grin that settles over Katalina's face is as wicked as it is wonderful to see, and she briefly wonders why it is she thinks Katalina will abandon her the next chance she gets. She's just as mean and ruthless as Lavinia is, and perhaps that's the reason they get on so well.
"You, Lavinia Vinke, are unequivocally vicious and I love you for it." Katalina praises, and a heat crawls up the back of Lavinia's neck.
"Just posh, you are." Lavinia teases, eyes too twinkling. "Unequivocally vicious. Harry would have a laugh over that."
Katalina suddenly straightens up, "Oh! I've been meaning to ask, have you heard from him yet?"
"No, actually." Lavinia furrows her brows, head thrown back in thought. "I think I've sent him maybe five letters now?"
"Oh... I wonder why he hasn't answered?" Katalina frowns.
Lavinia shrugs, "St Brutus' might have different mailing days then we do. I'll send him another letter and if I don't get one back I'll ask Charlie. Bet she knows."
"That's a good idea. You're a gem, Avie, if I were Harry I'd have put a ring on it already." Katalina says in an attempt to cheer her up, laughing when Lavinia flushes.
"My God, Kat, you're insufferable." Lavinia laughs, looking in the opposite direction of the brunette to hide the darkening flush of her cheeks. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. We're just friends."
"Just friends." Katalina mocks with an eye roll. "Regardless, I expect to be the maid of honour at the wedding."
Lavinia's hand slaps over her mouth to stifle her giggles, and she really does feel like a typical teenager for the briefest of moments, almost believes it, "Katalina Dikaios, you are unbelievable!"
"It is my middle name, you know. Katalina unbelievable Dikaios." Katalina throws her hands in the air, miming an imaginary banner above their heads.
"I'd say it's more, Katalina idiotic Dikaios." Lavinia says, watching older students approaching the gates of the courtyard.
Katalina laughs and then suddenly stops, a hint of seriousness laced within her tone, "Well, I do hope he's being cautious anyway." She says.
Lavinia whips her head towards Katalina so fast she's certain she's given herself whiplash, wincing as her muscles spasm in pain, "What are you on about?"
"The murders? The bodies that have been showing up throughout the city? They found one near St Brutus' the other night." Katalina frowns, worrying her bottom lip. "I mean, Christ, Avie, I almost had a heart attack when you hadn't shown up the other morning when you'd snuck out. I thought the papers would say they found you somewhere in an alley."
"I haven't been reading the papers." Lavinia tells her with furrowed brows.
Katalina folds one arm over her stomach, resting the other propped on it's elbow against it, now chewing on the skin around her nail beds, "It's been horrid, Avie... they've been finding them burnt almost to ash... they've no way of identifying the bodies except for small numbers."
Lavinia furrows her brows, "Stop chewing on your fingers, you'll ruin your skin." She tells her, reaching forward to pull her hand away from her mouth. "What d'you mean numbers?"
"The papers have been saying that there's a small patch of untouched skin on the victims, and each one has a small number. The victim from the other night had a three carved into his palm... what if the murderer had found you? Out and about and alone?"
Lavinia drops her gaze to the damp sidewalk in guilt. She very clearly remembers sneaking out the other night; a gash sits atop her knee from where the jagged metal pierced her skin when she'd snuck between the holes in the tall courtyard gates, whispering a shallow, 'I'll be back,' to Katalina with no further explanation. The street-lamps had been dim, barely lighting up the sidewalk of the dingy neighbourhood, stray alley cats scurrying every hidden corner. She'd been alone and she'd been vulnerable. It had been absolutely possible that someone may have found her and taken advantage of the fact that she'd refused to go back until daybreak. But she'd made it back, and she'd been unharmed, hadn't she?
But that was a lie, wasn't it?
" — Avie, are you listening to me?" Katalina waves her hand in front of Lavinia's face, frowning. "You alright?"
"I'm alright." Lavinia says, although it's a lie. She feels far from alright. Her head is pounding, the tingle in the back of her throat is still there, and the aftertaste of the cig makes her want to vomit.
Katalina moves closer, lowers her voice as the older students pass by them, "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Avie?"
Tell her, she briefly thinks, tell her right now.
Lavinia shakes her heads and clears her throat, "No, I've already said I'm fine."
"Look at me." Katalina says with such intensity Lavinia can't help but look at her.
She scans Lavinia's face, almost as if she's checking her for imperfections in such a way she can't help but think that Katalina reminds her of Alida.
"I can see it in your eyes. What's troubling you?" Katalina finally says, bringing a hand up to grab onto Lavinia's jaw when she tries to look away.
Tell her you found the body, she's thinking, tell her you found the body, and you didn't report it.
And perhaps it's the warmth of Katalina's eyes, that clouded mix of understanding buried beneath the hazel, or perhaps it's the alarmingly painful sear against her jaw that she knows will scar if Katalina doesn't move her hand and move it soon, that causes her to do what she does next. But her vision suddenly blurs, and she rapidly blinks through the haze.
"I found him." Lavinia chokes out, attempts to pull away from Katalina's grip when the sear painfully heightens. "I found him in that alleyway but I — I thought it was a one time thing... I never..."
The warmth is gone. Replaced, instead, by an icy sheen that sends an involuntary shiver of terror up Lavinia's spine. Her eyes are hard and extremely narrowed, "You never speak a word of that to another soul." She firmly states. "As far as anyone else is concerned, you saw no one, you found nothing. They'll think you a suspect, do you understand?"
Lavinia thickly swallows, and says nothing. What is there to say when you've found a body in an alleyway, and the only person you confide in tells you to forget you saw it?
"Lavinia!" Katalina snarls, and her grip tightens even more; she can feel Katalina's fingers against the muscles of her jaw, feels as they burn away at her skin. "If you understand me then fucking nod."
Eyes wide, Lavinia gives her a small, terrified nod. Whatever it is that's landed Katalina a slot in this godforsaken school, that is the reason. That sudden switch between the masquerade of safety and potent intimidation that makes her feel small, almost as if she's looking straight into her mothers eyes, would have been enough to secure anyone a slot in this school. And suddenly, Lavinia can see why Katalina has been transferred to a school for troubled girls — if God cannot grasp her in his reins, how is her father supposed to?
Everything is lie, and everything she thought she knew was a lie.
"Good, very good." Katalina says as she drops her hand, running her palms over the wrinkles in her grey pleated skirt. "Well, Mr Hespler's class awaits our entrance, so shall we?"
Katalina doesn't wait for a response before she turns on her heels and walks towards the entrance of the school, and she certainly doesn't wait to see if Lavinia's even made an effort to move from the spot she's rooted in. Her mouth feels bone dry, the aftertaste of the cig makes her really want to vomit, and that, that was a side of Katalina she's never truly seen before. And she stands there, in the brisk air that nips at her skin, and she wonders for the first time if perhaps she's dived head first into something she'll never quite understand.
hi my darlings xx i don't care what this chapter says, or what anyone else says, smoking is certainly not cool and this is not intended to promote smoking and i sure as hell don't. so for the love of god if you've never smoked and someone offers you a cig please remember that it's an expensive addiction and the random painful stabs in your ribs and a wheezy laugh are absolutely not worth it. from someone who is a smoker, i can wholeheartedly say it is absolutely one of the worst things you can do.
but warnings aside, i hope you all realized how spoiled you are this week xx an update for bloodmourn and an early update for mortala ?? can you tell i'm in a good mood ?? also i've got a few easter eggs in this chapter, and right now i know none of it will seem obvious and you may be thinking "girl, what are you on?" and baby it's called the high of feeling good !! anyway, leave your guesses because i'd love to hear them hehe. don't forget to comment and vote! until next time, luvs <3