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10
The sight is like a full-body blow and I hear myself cry out weakly. I drop my bulging bag of leaves by my side and hobble over to the statue, taking in the lumpy texture and the aroma of boiled oats.
I’m not imagining this, am I? The statue I buffed and polished for hours on end last night, trying to make it sparkle as grandly as Baxter had demanded, is covered in thick porridge.
She’s going to kill me.
Young kids titter among themselves as they feast on my every reaction. I take deep breaths, trying to get my racing heart under control, tightening my lips so I don’t yell out the huge “FUCK!” I so desperately want to right now.
“Who did this?” I ask them, trying to keep my voice steady, but they just keep sniggering, stifling their laughter tightly with their hands. “Was it one of you?”
They keep their smirking mouths shut.
I don’t know what to do. There’s no way I can clean it up before Baxter sees it, and frankly it isn’t polish it needs but a blast from a power-hose.
I groan into my hands, and all I can think of is Rory’s words —like drowning a poor, defenseless kitten.
This is him. This is all him. He wants to get rid of me, and this is how he’s going to do it.
I’m not going to get a single chance to prove myself worthy of a place in this school.
I’m just going to be unfairly punished until they kick me out.
I glance upstairs to see Li watching the scene play out in front of her. She wouldn’t have… But then the rest of the girls join her, and I tell myself to get a grip. I’m being paranoid now. I can’t trust anyone, not even my own sense of judgment.
“What’s this?” Arabella shrieks, almost flying downstairs to observe the chaos. She looks between me and the statue, horrified. “I thought you were supposed to be cleaning it?”
“I did.” I don’t think I can grit my teeth any harder.
The younger kids —the gremlins, I’m starting to think of them as — scurry off into the dining hall like innocent passers-by.
“And this is your idea of cleaning?” She sounds so much like her aunt that it’s disconcerting. All she needs are the small glasses attached to her nose and she’d be her exact double.
“No, it’stheiridea of cleaning.” I gesture to the gremlins shuffling away for breakfast. “I cleaned it to perfection — it wassparkling— and they did this to me.”
Freya inspects the statue with a miserable look, her big blue eyes disconsolate. “We could help Jessa clean?”
But Becca just scoffs. “Why arewethe ones supposed to clean? They have it in for girls here, and there’s no way I’m going to fulfill their twisted little 1950s fantasies.” She’s wearing a grim expression. “There are a few here who wouldloveto have someone like me crouched down and cleaning up their dirty work.”
I nurse my temples and gaze at the top of the stairs. Rory, Finlay and Luke are paused in the middle of the staircase.
I don’t care how it looks. I rush up to Rory, limping with every step.
“You. What thehellis this?” I stare at him, gesturing to the statue behind me. “I wasniceto you.”And you were — sort of — nice to me. I’d thought we weregettingsomewhere. Rory’s expression is inscrutable, but he glances down at the statue with mild curiosity.
Luke sucks in a breath as he surveys the statue beside Freya. “Ouch. That is some mean shit they pulled here.”
“Who? Who’sthey?” I feel like I’m moments away from just losing it completely and either bursting into tears or roundhouse kicking one of them in the balls. I look up at Rory again, but from the curl of his lip and his dead gray eyes, I can tell he’s no longer the boy on the rock who wanted to learn more about dancing.
I glance behind him at Finlay, who’s being unusually quiet. “Was it you?”
Finlay scowls back at me from underneath artfully disheveled hair. “Why wouldIdae this? Whit a waste o’ perfectly good porridge. Wee fuckin’ bams have nae respect.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
It’s a voice quietly spoken but the rowdiness of the main hall vanishes in an instant. Closing my eyes in dread, I turn to face Headmistress Baxter.
Her eyes settle on me. There is no kindness in the cold black depths. “Miss Weir.”
