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14
When I slope up to the tower, I don’t expect to be bombarded by the girls’ excitable faces.
“Jessa! You’re back!”
“We did it, we did it!”
“Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell you everyth—”
They’re all standing in front of my door, as happy as kids at Christmas. “Don’t.” It’s the one word I feel confident in speaking to them. I unlock my door and then close it on them.
Outside, I picture a small moment of confused silence. Before long, they’re knocking at my door, fists hammering. Freya’s voice pleads, “Jessa, open up! We have so much to share!”
I’ve spent the past hour cleaning up the chiefs’ dorm. Clearing away more leaves, more porridge and broken glass. Bundling destroyed books onto nightstands for them to sort through when they’re less angry. It’d been the ultimate culmination of all my punishments so far, leaving me a tired, woebegone mess.
They may complain about the girls having private rooms but at least they live in a nice dormitory. My room isn’t a fifth the size of the boys’ dorm. It’s cold and drafty, the wind swirling around the tower like a live beast. My bed is a small single with no personalized covers, while theirs were at least double the width and decorated to their taste. But my room is neat and tidy, while theirs…
I grimace.
Operation Strike First.
In another world, I should feel happy for the girls. This should be treated as a victory.
But I’m numb inside.
Two weeks off school.
And for what? Being the wrong person at the wrong time? Telling thetruth?
I hold my head in my hands and exhale deeply. Lochkelvin might be a mess and the gremlins might taunt me at their masters’ behest, but they’ve never been outrightvicioustoward me. They’ve never trashed my room. They’ve never made me feel utterly violated. I’ve never thought all hope was lost before.
I hear Arabella whispering to Freya. In her easy drawl, Becca says, “Come on, Yankee girl, open up. We need you to listen.”
I’m fed up with listening. I feel like all I do is listenwhile no one listens tome.
Nevertheless, I unlock the door and hold it open for them with the little energy I can muster.
That’s okay, because the girls make up for it in spades. They leap onto my bed, just like they did on my first night here. Even Arabella sits proudly in front of the pillows, her face beaming like she’s responsible for some kind of award-winning performance.
In an alternate reality, this would be fun. It’d be a laugh-a-minute sleepover, a riot of gossip and jokes. We’d sing into hairbrushes and do each other’s nails, or whatever girls are supposed to do. I never really had that tight friendship circle growing up and I would have liked to have formed it here.
In this reality, however, the girls regale me with their dastardly deeds. Freya’s eyes are wide with delight as she describes gathering up the little bugs from the rooms here and planting them in the boys’ shower room. Numbly, I think to myself that no one had inspected the shower room when I’d been there, so there’s yet another surprise for them to pin on me.
The girls look like they want to high-five themselves.
None of them appear to have noticed that I haven’t spoken yet, they’re so wrapped up in their glee.
Only after Freya’s breathless speech does Becca prod me. “Jessa? You okay?”
I stare at her, still kind of dazed. It’s a struggle but I manage to get out the words, “I’m suspended.”
Arabella slaps a hand across her mouth, looking utterly aghast. “You’rewhat?”
I gaze at her, my eyes narrowing. Is she the world’s greatest actress or another pawn in the elite’s game? Without saying anything, I hold out the sheet of paper that saysJessa says hello.
The girls stare back at me, nonplussed.
It’s infuriating, and all the anger I’d kept locked inside begins to bubble over. “What were youthinking? What exactly were the optics here? ‘Jessa says hello’? Jessadidn’tsay hello because Jessa was in detention all night!”
