Drawing of Veronica that my friend Alyssa did^^. Thanks so much!!!!
Chapter 6
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Queenbees and Wannabees
As I sat down in the back of Spanish class, I looked over at the door expecting to see the teacher. Veronica apparently followed my gaze and said, "She's usually late."
I turned away from the door and smiled at Veronica. "More time to talk, then." Most of the class were talking to their friends or looking at their phone.
"So what do you think of Elvira so far?" asked Veronica sweetly.
"I haven't been here too long, but it is definitely an improvement over the other schools I've been to. The students here are more of my crowd, from what I can tell," I said, putting an unnecessary amount of emphasis on the words 'my crowd'.
There. If that didn't make me seem like a spoiled rich kid, I don't know what will.
Veronica's smile widened. "I think you'll fit in well here. It takes most students a while to really understand how things work around here. New students—freshman, mostly—show up in tacky uniforms."
"I was wondering about that, actually. Why don't you wear uniforms?" I knew the answer, of course, but asking her a question that only someone from Elvira could know would give her the satisfaction of explaining it to me.
"Not a lot of people know this," she lowered her voice conspiratorily, "but we did have uniforms here. But six years ago, the daughter of Roland Fraiser came here and since her dad is so famous for his fashion she demanded that she get to wear whatever she wanted. At first, he told her no. I know, crazy right?"
"Yeah, you can't just tell Roland Fraiser's daughter no!" I said. In truth, I have absolutely no clue who that is. I know the gist of the story, though.
"Right?! Well, they did. So then her dad gave the school a good sum of money to get rid of the uniforms and they did. Must've been a lot of money," she said.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the teacher walked into the room. Most student's didn't even acknowledge she was there but continued talking or staring at their phones.
Mrs. Cwakenbush walked up to the front of the class. She was fairly young, probably in her mid-thirties. She had light brown hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail. "Alright class, quiet down. Silencio, por favor!"
I cringed. Her accent wasn't too good. If I had to guess, she probably spent three months max in a Spanish-speaking country. And she didn't start learning Spanish until she was a freshman in high school.
Most of the class stopped talking, but the kids on their phones merely looked up. She continued, "Sorry I'm late, there was a lot of traffic—"
She's lying, I thought. Whatever reason she was late, it wasn't because of traffic. It was just a little white lie, but nevertheless, I made a mental note of this.
"—and then the lady at Timmy's daycare was sick so I had to call for a nanny to watch him." Now she was telling the truth. She probably just added the traffic part so it would seem like she had a lot going on. She continued, "How did the homework go last night? Did everyone do the reading?" There was a murmur of assent. In my opinion, this was a very dumb question to ask a class. Of course, everyone is going to say they did it, what does she expect?
One guy in the second row raised his hand.
"Yes?"
"I was confused about why the imperfect tense was used for number three and not preterite. Could you explain it?"
As I glanced over at the guy who asked the question, I was surprised to see that he didn't look confused at all. In fact, he was watching the teacher with a cocky smile, as if waiting to see how she'd react. Looking around at the rest of the class, students were sharing knowing smiles and many began looking at their phones again.
Mrs. Cwakenbush didn't seem to notice anything. She said, "Number three...hmm, well, it would be the imperfect because it describes an emotion, which is a temporary. I know it can be confusing, believe me. When I was in college, I always had trouble with preterite and imperfect. So when I was sent to Spain, many of the Spaniards thought I was this odd American who mixes up her tenses. The people there were very nice about it, though. If any of you ever live in a foreign country, you have to keep track of your tenses. And avoid using words you don't understand. I remember this one lady who thought I was insulting her..." she continued on and on about her time in Spain. Not a single person was even listening to her. Everyone was either on their phone or talking to their neighbor. I smiled. Now I understood what was going on. She must get off-topic a lot, which would be why that boy asked a question. I bet my thousand dollar shoes he didn't even read question three.
"She'll probably talk for about ten minuted before she realized no one is listening," said Veronica sardonically. Looking back at her, I saw that she was filing her manicured pink nails.
"Hey, Veronica!" said the blonde girl, spinning around in her seat to face her. "Elise and Jack broke up," she said in a rush.
"What? Give me that," she grabbed her phone out of her hand and read what was on the screen. "How did she find out?"
"She didn't say," responded the blonde girl in a gossipy way, "but if I definitely don't think he told her."
Veronica shook her head in disbelief. "No way in hell would he come clean, not after all the trouble he went through to cover it up."
"Cover what up?" I asked, doing my best to sound like I was very interested in why Elise broke up with Jack.
Veronica smiled as if she would like nothing better than to share that piece of information. "Jack was cheating on her with Andrea Myers. Everyone knows."
"Except Elise," added the blonde girl, "she was head-over-heels for him. I think someone tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen. She must've found it somehow, I can't imagine her breaking up with him over anything else."
"Hmm..." said Veronica, "you know, if I had to guess, I would say she probably saw them. She wouldn't believe it if someone told her, and Jack would never tell her, so the only logical explanation would be that she witnessed them together in a not-so-platonic way."
"Whose side are we taking?" asked the blonde girl.
"Well, I want to side with Elise, but I'm friends with Andrea and, Daniel is teammates with Jack, so—"
"Who's Daniel?" I asked.
Veronica smiled proudly. "My boyfriend. He's the quarterback of the football team and his parents are the top editors of People magazine."
And here I thought she couldn't get more shallow.
"Anyway, I'm on Jack's side. And are you." She looked from me to the blonde girl.
"Of course!" said the blonde girl with wide eyes. It couldn't have been clearer that the blonde girl agreed with Veronica on everything.
"It's a good thing you're here to tell me about who I should be friends with," I told her. "Otherwise, I might end up with the wrong crowd."
Veronica grinned. "My pleasure. Oh, this is Ashley by the way." She nodded towards the blonde girl. "She's definitely someone to associate with. Her dad is a sports agent for the NFL."
I'm starting to get the feeling that what your parents do play a major role in your social status at Elvira. I smiled at Ashley with an approving look, as if I cared what her dad did for a living. I was dying to ask Veronica about Jessica, but I knew that would have to wait. I decided it would be best to let her bring it up, which would open the door for me to ask questions. I was about to ask Veronica more about her boyfriend (a topic I know she'd just love to talk about), but the teacher must've finally realized no one was listening and was now asking us to quiet down.
"Quite enough talking going on in this class," said Cwakenbush. "Now, please take out your textbooks and read chapter 6, and write down any words you don't understand."
There was a shuffling of papers as people withdrew their textbooks from their bags. I sat awkwardly for a moment, wondering what I should do since I didn't have one but then I spotted a stack of books in the back of the room behind me. I picked up one of the textbooks and turned to chapter 6 and skimmed through it. It was some article about culture in Costa Rica, written in Spanish. This would be the perfect time to observe my fellow senior classmates. I wasn't really looking to see if any of them looked like killers (you can rarely tell from a first impression unless they are really wierd), but I was just trying to get a feel for the people in this school.
From what Sami told me about the seniors, there are only 41 students in the senior class. There are 22 students in this Spanish class, so I can get to know about half the people. I start at the front row, going by each person and just noting their behavior. I went from person to person, just skimming to see if anyone caught my attention.
When I got to the second row, one person stood out to me, though I'm not sure why. It was just his demeanor. It was the same person who asked the Spanish teacher the question to get her off topic. I saw he wasn't reading the chapter, although he had his book out. The way he was sitting in his chair—leaned back with one leg propped up—told me that he was very cocky and arrogant. Probably a player too, judging by the way he kept catching girls' eyes and smirking at them. And—I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice—he was hot. Like, very hot. He had dark brown hair that was pushed back so it appeared windswept and his skin was tanned. If I had to guess, he played football, but he wasn't broad-shouldered. He was pretty tall. And he was spoiled, too. The watch he was wearing cost as much as some people make in a year.
I continued down the rows, just trying to pick up on things. Sami is better at this than I am, but I can get by. There's not much you can pick up on someone from simply looking at them reading a textbook, to be honest. I did notice one girl in the fourth row. She was hiding a novel under her textbook. She had her hand over her mouth and for a second I thought she was crying, but then I realized that she was actually just trying really hard not to laugh, probably at something she just read. Another girl stood out to me—she was on her phone and was obviously mad at whoever she was texting. I had just started on the fourth row when the bell rang.
"Your assignment is to read chapter 6 and answer the five questions at the end," said the teacher as everyone stood up to leave.
"Taylor, what class so you have next?" asked Veronica as she picked up her purse.
"AP biology," I replied, knowing we had the same next class.
"Really? Me too!"
We walked out of the classroom together as Veronica told me about the biology teacher. "She's super mean and has serious OCD and gets so mad at students it's like, take a chill pill every once in a while—oh, hey!"
I turned and saw a blonde guy had caught up to us and was now walking next to Veronica.
"Hey babe, how's your morning?" he said as he took her hand in his.
I'm guessing this is Daniel.
"Fine," she replied not unkindly, "Oh, this is Taylor. She's new. Taylor, this is Daniel."
"Hi," I said. Daniel leaned forward to see me indiscreetly looked me up and down.
Veronica snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey. Stop it." She didn't sound particularly mad though, which probably meant that this was a regular occurrence.
"Where're you from?" he asked me, ignoring Veronica.
"New York."
"Cool. The city of light," he said. I bit back a laugh.
Veronica rolled her eyes. "That's Paris, you idiot."
"I thought Paris was the city of love."
"It's both," Veronica shook her head. "Sorry about him."
Not really knowing what to say, I simply said, "It's nice to meet you." I was saved from having to say anything else when we walked into the biology classroom. I was very interested in meeting the teacher. When we entered the room, the atmosphere was quite different than in the Spanish classroom. Even though the teacher wasn't in the room, almost no one was speaking. There were no cell phones visible and most of the students already had their textbooks out.
The four of us sat down at the back of the class. Daniel let go of Veronica's hand and sat down in front of her, and I took the seat next to her in the very back corner. The bell rang and all the students seemed to sit up a little straighter in their chairs. It was silent, except for some faint chatter from the classroom next door. This was clearly a teacher the kids were afraid of. I mean, she's not even in the room yet.
I turned towards the door and saw a lady in her late forties walk in. She was tall and thin and had a look of unquestionable authority. She had black hair that was pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head and wore a white blouse tucked into a black skirt. On her feet were high heeled black boots that clicked every time she took a step, making her look even taller than she was. She stepped into the room, her dark eyes sweeping the class. Click, click, click. You could feel the tension in the room with every step she took. It was very impressive. Her manner reminded me of the way Montgomery is during an interrogation.
As she walked towards the front, she stared at me and I quickly looked away. It wasn't a creepy scare, but it was more like she was sizing me up to see what type of student I would be. After what felt like an eternity, she reached the front of the classroom.
"Turn to page 87." She didn't say it very loud, but her voice was commanding. Immediatly, everyone turned to said page and looked up expectantly at her. She, however, was looking straight at me.
"This morning," she said, "I received an email from the Dean saying there would be a new student, Taylor Anderson, joining my class. Miss Anderson, I am Ms. Avare. I don't know what school you come from or what the expectations were there, but in my classes, I have a few rules. There is absolutely no talking when I am talking. Students may only speak when asked a question by me. I do not tolerate cell phones and if I see or hear a cell phone I will confiscate it and never give it back. I also expect your homework to be completed every day. I do not accept late work. Failure to comply with these rules will result in your immediate removal from this class. Is that understood?"
I nodded, feeling rather taken aback. She had this strange glint in her eyes that told me she loved giving this talk to new students. Which would mean that she likes having power over other people. I made a mental note to research her when I got back to the hotel. I looked over at Veronica with an 'I can't believe this teacher' expression, and she mouthed, "she's crazy." I nodded in affirmation.
I didn't get to people-watch like in Spanish. She spent most of the time lecturing. Ms. Avare kept the class on their toes by asking random questions on what she just said, effectively making all the student's pay attention. She never once raised her voice, yet she regained perfect control over her classroom. The random questions were hard, yet most students got them correct. Except for one kid got it wrong, and I don't think I've ever felt more sorry for a person in my life.
"Mr. Lancaster, recite the four main stages of meiosis," instructed Avare.
"Uh," said Lancaster, "Prophase, metaphase, uh...telophase—"
Avare held up a hand and he fell silent. "Mr. Lancaster, do you know what would happen if telophase came after metaphase?"
He shook his head. "The entire cellular structure would collapse because the membrane wouldn't have fully developed," she berated. "As you would have known from the reading I assigned last night. So either you didn't read it, or you read it and forgot what you read. So are you insubordinate or are you stupid?"
I was shocked. What kind of a teacher does this to a student?
Lancaster didn't say anything at first, but he started to sweat. He kept looking around as if hoping someone would come in and save him. "Uhh, I don't—"
"It's a simple question. If that is too difficult for you, then I will move you down a class."
He looked panicked at the thought of moving down a level. "No! I mean..I did the reading...I just forgot..."
"Meaning you are stupid?" she asked. Was she really going to make him admit to that in front of the class? Looking around, the other students had mixed expressions. Some felt sympathy, some were avoiding his eye, and others looked entertained.
He seemed to come to the conclusion that agreeing with her was his best option. "I...yeah, I guess."
Avare did not smile, but she lifted her chin slightly "Well, in that case, I expect a five-page essay about the stages of meiosis on my desk tomorrow morning. As I was saying, the four stages of meiosis differ from mitosis in that..." she continued on teaching. During her humiliation of Lancaster, I was able to make note of which students reacted which way. It would, at least, give me some clues to their personality. I could write it down later when I got a chance and ask Aaron or Sami about it. And I will definitely talk to Parker to see if he could find any information about her. It was too early to start making a suspect list, but my gut was telling me she should be on one. It hadn't occurred to me that the killer could be a teacher, though now that I thought about it, it makes more sense. A teacher would have unlimited access to the school and would easily be able to get a student on their own during lunch—all they would have to do is ask. I doubt any of the students here would question an order issued from a teacher.
I thought back to the only other teacher I'd met today—Cwakenbush. She definitely didn't stand out to me as a killer in any way. She was too clueless. Sociopaths are very attentive and notice things, like a new student in the class. Cwakenbush didn't even acknowledge that she had a new student. The more I thought about it, the more Avare seemed to fit the description of a sociopath. Don't jump to conclusions, I thought. Maybe she was just a strict teacher. I could be misjudging her.
The bell rang. I stood up...then realized I was the only person standing.
"Miss Anderson, the bell does not dismiss you. I do. Sit down," she ordered. Annoyed, I sat. "Your homework is to read chapter 87 to 89 and to remember the information you read, unlike Mr. Lancaster. You are dismissed."
Everyone stood up. No one spoke until they were out of the classroom. I walked out next to Veronica and the second we were out of earshot, we started talking.
"Is she always like that?" I asked.
"All day, every day. She is such a bitch. Like, I'm sorry, but you do not talk to a student like that," she said.
"Did you hear," Ashely said in a gossipy voice (which I'm starting to think is her only tone of voice), "that on Tuesday she made that junior Bert Brown cry?"
Veronica and Daniel laughed. "Wait, really?" Daniel asked through his laughter.
"I heard it from Stacy McGrew. It was after class, and she was the only one who saw. Avare literally told him that he had no future and that unless he raised his grades she would call every college he applied to and tell them not to accept him. Oh, and Stacy also told me not to tell anyone so you didn't hear from me." She directed that last part at Daniel. Veronica probably knows better than to reveal her sources.
Daniel nodded a grin plastered on his face. "He'd probably get kicked out of any college that's stupid enough to accept him, anyway. Unless he gets a football scholarship." He laughed again, "The other guys are going to get a kick out of this."
I could feel my blood pressure rising in anger. It infuriated me that he was just going to tell his teammates about this, something that was none of his business. But I couldn't let that show. I had to play my part. Wanting to change the subject, I asked Veronica what class she has next.
"Study hall, same as you," she replied.
"How do you know what class I have next?" I asked, slightly perplexed.
"All the seniors have study hall third hour," Ashley answered. "It's a pretty big classroom. The monitor hasn't shown up since the first week, which is fine, I mean, as long as we're not killing each other we're allowed to be there unsupervised."
That was followed by a very awkward silence. Veronica and Daniel stared at her, and Ashley's face turned pale. "Oh—I didn't mean—"
She stopped talking at the 'shut up now' look Veronica shot at her. Maybe getting her to talk about the murders would be harder than I thought. There was an awkward silence, then Veronica struck up a conversation with Daniel for the rest of the walk to the class, something about a rival school they're playing next week in football. When we walked into the to study hall, it couldn't have been more apparent that it wasn't used for much studying.
It was really loud, which would make sense. In my opinion, leaving forty seniors in a classroom unsupervised is a really bad idea. The desks had been pushed to one end of the room, making the room look bigger. Students sat on the floor or stood, talking to their friends. They naturally formed their own groups, making it easy for me to spot who is friends with who. There's three guys bouncing a basketball off the wall, a group of girls painting their nails, a few people actually trying to study, a couple making out in the corner, a bunch of people on their phones, a boy and girl in an argument, one girl sitting by herself reading a book, and a bunch of guys congregated around two boxes of pizza. Doing a quick count, I was surprised to see that no one was ditching class. Then I remembered Aaron telling me that the Dean increased security in the main entrances, effectively stopping students from leaving the school. Which would be a good thing, but the killer is someone inside the school, so now they're just locking everyone in with an insane murder.
Veronica and Ashley waved at a few people on the other side of the room and made their way toward them. I followed quickly behind.
"We've got a new arrival," said Veronica. This was clearly the popular group. I wonder how many people would just love to be in my position right now "This is Taylor. She's from New York and her dad is a stockbroker. Taylor, this is Andrea—"
She nodded towards a girl with amber hair.
"This is Jack—"
So this is the guy who broke up with Elise to date Andrea. He was tall and had light brown hair.
"This is Luke—he's dating Ashley—"
She indicated a broad-shouldered guy with extremely groomed hair.
"And this is Alex."
I looked at the last guy in the row and was greeted with a cocky smirk. This was the same arrogant guy I noticed in Spanish. Wait. Alex. I knew that name.
He was Jessica's boyfriend.
"Nice to meet you," I said, speaking to everyone, but looking at him. He was one of the two people I was most interested in meeting, the other being Veronica. Apparently, he was one of the last people to see Jessica before she was murdered. Unlike Veronica, who I researched vigorously before coming today, I knew hardly anything about him. He was already a suspect even before I met him, purely because he dated her. I wanted to get to know him more. Something about that arrogant smile gave me reason to mistrust him. Getting on Veronica's good side was rather easy, but I knew that gossiping and agreeing with whatever he said isn't going to work with him.
I'd need to use different tactics.
A/N
Happy April!
I hope you liked this chapter! It was fun to write, especially the teachers. I ended up going in a different direction than I originally thought, but it's all good because I like how it ended up. Are you guys able to follow along with everything? I know I threw in lot of new characters...I hope I'm not moving too fast.
Sorry this is a day late. I've been literally writing nonstop for the past five hours trying to finish this up. I didn't have time to work during the week because it's the end-of-quarter and I am swamped with homework and revision. I have so much chemistry to do and I literally do not understand it at all.
Also...Alyssa, thanks for your help with 1/6th of the book and for that drawing of Veronica. :) And Rachel, thanks for your help with editing the past chapters. If anyone spots any grammatical errors (especially tense changes I am the worst with that), feel free to message me and let me know, it would be a huge help.
Question of the day: If you had to make a suspect list, who would be on it and why?
Thanks so much for reading! Please vote if you liked it. As always, have a super fantastic day and don't forget to smile!!
💗Sarah Grace
Next Update: 4/16/16 (That's a perfect square day!)
Expect an update every other Saturday!