LIFE WITHIN THE HALLS
Jayden
Wednesday, 11th February, 6:20 p.m.
On the third count, Sandra's resolve seemed to waver. She ran into my car like Cinderella running to her charming Prince.
I was a charming Prince to many girls, but she wasn't exactly Cinderella. Maybe her face could pass. Pretty enough to fit the role.
A subtle smirk played on my lips. "Did you have to keep me waiting?"
She brushed off my question, fastening her seatbelt as if I were invisible.
I overlooked her reaction, guiding the car onto the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel. With a press on the accelerator, I surged forward, the engine humming to life as I picked up speed.
Sandra really should have taken the backseat. At least then, I wouldn't catch a whiff of her intoxicating perfume.
"Can I ask you something?" she finally spoke.
I wanted to ignore her like she ignored me. But, after a second thought, I replied.
"Yeah, sure."
"Why did you try to harass me in the school basement yesterday?"
"It... it wasn't my intention. My cousin pressured me into it. She doesn't seem to like you."
Her eyebrows shot up. "I don't even know her, and she dislikes me. Oh, okay."
I glanced at her. The brown dress she wore hugged her curves, the hem riding up higher than I deemed appropriate. She had the nerve to slap me in the basement the other day, but now she seemed comfortable wearing such a revealing dress in my car. That too with no one else.
She tugged at her dress, trying to cover her thighs, and I quickly averted my gaze, chastising myself for even allowing my eyes to linger.
To shake off the uncomfortable moment, I increased the volume of the car radio.
"And now, as we celebrate Black History Month, let's reflect on the profound contributions of black artists throughout history," the radio presenter announced, followed by Nina Simone's 'To Be Young, Gifted and Black.'
I noticed Sandra moving her body to the music, tapping her feet.
"Love listening to music?" I asked, stealing a glance at her.
"Nope, not a fan of music," she replied.
"Okay," I said, steering the car into the school parking lot.
The lights surrounding the school glowed softly. I hadn't seen it at night before. Unluckily for me, I had enrolled in the school two weeks after nighttime parties were cancelled. I heard it was cancelled due to the death of a scholarship girl.
"Wow!" Sandra exclaimed.
I turned to her, halting the car. "The lights around the school? They're nice, I know."
"Not the lights." She pointed her finger in my direction, giving me a look I couldn't understand.
Was she flirting with me?
She snapped her fingers at me. "Behind you."
Behind me? I turned, only to see the Ship House. The school's dormitory for resident students, accommodating international and scholarship students of all grades.
"The night view is incredible," Sandra remarked.
"Yeah, it really is! And bloody!"
"Bloody? Why?"
"Why?" I unbuckled my seatbelt and relaxed in my seat. "You don't listen to the news, do you? Two years ago, a girl died in the Ship House during a night party. She committed suicide."
I noticed Sandra clutching the edges of her dress. "Is... everything okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, everything's fine," she muttered. "Uh... about the girl, did you know her personally? Friends with her or anything?"
"No, I never met her since I joined the school after she passed away."
"What if..." she murmured, her mind elsewhere as she opened the car door.
I grabbed her arm, startling her. " What if what? Aren't you going to thank me for the ride?"
"Hey, hey!! Do you want to blind me? Turn off the light," a familiar voice screamed in front of my car. "You're even late for the meet-up."
I quickly switched off the car lights and released Sandra's arm.
"Do you two think you're on a date?" Gideon asked sarcastically, clad in a white shirt with dot designs.
I rolled my eyes, opened the car door, and stepped outside. The entire property of the school was like a cemetery. Except for the hush sounds emanating from the Ship House. I looked around, remembering the security cameras. They were at every corner of the school building.
"But how do we get past the CCTV cameras?" I asked.
"You don't have to worry about that, I've got it sorted," Gideon replied me. "And please, don't ask me how."
Of course, I wanted to ask him how and when he did that. The Gideon I had known in class wasn't an IT freak to hack into the cameras in such a short period.
"So... we're here. What now?" Sandra asked, lips pursed.
"Mr. Bennett's office. Where else?" I replied her.
Gideon took the lead, and we followed, step by step, making our way to Mr. Bennett's office. With a swift motion, Gideon extracted a hairpin from his pocket and picked the lock, forcefully opening the door. It wasn't my first time in Mr. Bennett's office, but it was the first time going in without his permission. He used to tutor me one-on-one in his office after school last semester, so I had a faint recollection of his computer password.
Gideon moved to the computer desk, settling into the chair and began typing. Sandra, on the other hand, hovered nearby, her fingers fidgeting and her foot tapping impatiently, as if her life were on the line.
"Uh, I used to have classes with Mr. Bennett, so I know his password... only if he hasn't changed it," I voiced out.
Gideon lifted his head from the screen. "1,2,3,4?" he guessed, counting his fingers. "That's the password, right?"
"Are you kidding me? No, that's not it," I replied incredulously.
He turned the computer screen towards me, and to my surprise, the four-digit number had indeed unlocked it. "Strange! Why would Mr. Bennett put such a common password?" I furrowed my brows, moving closer to the computer desk.
Sandra came closer too, her disbelief evident. "I don't even know what to say. Even a three-year-old kid wouldn't use that password."
As Gideon delved deeper into the videos on the computer, something unsettling caught my eye. "Wait... Did you see that?"
"What?" He turned to face me.
"Go back, go back," I gestured urgently, and he complied, rewinding the footage.
I gasped, my hand covering my mouth in shock as I watched a disturbing scene unfold on the screen. It was an explicit video of the late head cheerleader.
"Isn't that the late head cheerleader?" Sandra's voice lowered in disbelief.
"Yeah," I confirmed.
"But why is the head cheerleader's explicit video on Mr. Bennett's computer? A computer with a four-digit number password?" Sandra asked, her brow furrowed.
"The presence of the head cheerleader's video on the computer suggests that Mr. Bennett may have some connection to her death," Gideon replied, his tone serious.
"How sure are you?" I pressed, needing reassurance.
"This isn't about how sure I am," he replied. "We have to report it to the police."
The mention of the police caught me off guard. I knew Gideon didn't like Mr. Bennett, so he was definitely acting on that.
"No, not yet," I disagreed. "Why don't we confront Daniel's look-alike first? If Mr. Bennett truly has something to do with the head cheerleader's death, his accomplice, Daniel's look-alike, might have some answers too."
"You make a good point. Let's confront Daniel's look-alike before taking any further steps," Sandra chimed in, aligning with my suggestion.
"Fine! I will copy the video to my phone," Gideon agreed reluctantly. "We'll confront him tomorrow."
As we discussed our plan, I heard the sound of a door slowly closing from outside. I turned away from the computer, looking out of the office window.
"Guys, guys," I muttered. "Someone else is here." I alerted them.
"Who could be here at this time? Even the resident students aren't allowed here at night, so tell me, who?" Gideon questioned, his voice rising in concern.
"Speak more quietly," I cautioned.
I crept out of the office, my instincts telling me there was a fourth person.
We searched every nook and cranny, scouring rooms and corridors, yet found no trace of anyone else. No sign of a fourth person. Perhaps the wind was playing a trick on me, or it was just my imagination.
"Are you sure we've checked everywhere?" Sandra inquired.
I looked up at the drop ceiling, chewing my thumb in thought. Which place was left unchecked? Suddenly, something crossed my mind.
"We haven't checked the records room."
"The records room? The room where they keep students' files? What would someone be doing there?" Gideon objected.
"There's no harm in checking it, right?" I said, and headed to the records room.
Upon reaching the room, I could hear the sound of drawers being pulled and pushed. Panic gripped me for a moment, thinking it might be one of the teachers. But, I mustered up courage and went further.
To my astonishment, I saw a girl inside. A brown-skinned girl with curly black hair. No way! It couldn't be the founder's granddaughter.
I cleared my throat. "What the hell are you doing here at this time?" I asked, my tone laced with suspicion.
Gideon and Sandra joined me in the room, their expressions mirroring my confusion.
Victoria turned, dropping a bunch of files from her hand. Her face was pale, and her hands were shaking. She looked like a criminal caught red-handed. Her eyes were downcast, and she seemed so weak compared to how bold she looked during the day. She didn't know we were meeting up, so what could possibly bring her to the school at such a late hour?