Sweet Shadows
Page 16
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I glance over to see her grinning at me, proud of me for putting Miranda in her place. The colorful tips at the ends of her otherwise black hair are now a flaming shade of red.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I did.”
The tardy bell rings and I relax back in my seat. Taking a lesson from my ordinary life, I mentally tell my doubts to take a hike. If I can stand up to Miranda, no monster stands a chance.
Ms. West—Sthenno—is right. We’re going to succeed. I just have to trust in fate.
CHAPTER 6
GRETCHEN
I time my arrival in biology so I’m walking through the door just as the bell rings. The last thing I want to face this early in the morning is Nick, so I figure that by arriving with the bell, I can avoid that window of time when we would still be free to talk. Well, he’d be free to talk and I’d be free to ignore him.
Turns out my precision timing is wasted because the seat behind mine is empty.
“Nice of you to join us, Miss Sharpe,” Mrs. Knightly warns as I stride past the front of the class. “Next time, be in your seat before the bell or it’ll be a tardy.”
Some of the sheep—I mean, other students—watch in eager anticipation, hoping I’ll do something gossipworthy. I ignore them.
“Yes ma’am,” I say, mostly to appease her, so I can sink into my chair and let the adrenaline in my bloodstream fade away.
Guess I was more worried than I thought.
Mrs. Knightly starts her lecture, but I can’t concentrate on anything she says. Instead I’m going over everything that happened last night. I was hard on Nick, I know. But he has to know he deserved it. He kept his true identity, his reason for showing up in my life, a secret, and it nearly cost my sisters and me our lives.
I should be furious at him—I am, really—but part of me wants to believe him when he says he’s watching over us, protecting us. Protecting me.
I snort at the thought—and then have to cover up the sound with a brief coughing fit when Mrs. Knightly skewers me with an angry glare. What has he done to protect me? Most of the time I was protecting him.
He must realize by now that I’m the last person on earth who needs protecting. I can take care of myself and my sisters.
Part of me does believe him, though. Believes that he’s on our side—whatever that means. I can’t help wondering where he is and if he’s not here today because of the things I said last night.
My phone vibrates in my cargo pocket.
Mrs. Knightly is focused on writing something about chromosomes and reproduction on the board. Without moving my upper body, I lift my knee, reach down, unbutton the pocket holding my phone, and slide it quietly out into my palm. I pull it up into my lap and look down.
It’s a text from Grace.
My heart thumps and I realize that I’d been hoping it was Nick. Get over it, I tell myself. If he’s scared away, he’s scared away. So what if he’s the only boy who’s ever known my secret? He isn’t interested in me, anyway. He’s just … I don’t know what. Trying to get close to me? Win my trust?
Whatever. He lied to me. I shouldn’t want to talk to him. I shouldn’t want him to call or to be in class to pass notes over my shoulder. I shouldn’t want him at all.
Shaking off these frivolous thoughts, I look down again and read Grace’s message.
Coffee with Sthenno at four at the Grindery in Union Square.
I know the place. It’s too crowded and overpriced for me, but it’s kind of a landmark. I text back a quick Okay and am slipping my phone back into its pocket when I hear my name.
“Miss Sharpe,” Mrs. Knightly says. She sounds annoyed, like she’s been trying to get my attention.
“Yes?” I sit up straight, trying to look like a good, attentive student.
“What is the difference between mitosis and meiosis?”
“Um …” Around me, the sheep snicker. I swing a glare around the room. As if they’re any better. I can see four phones hidden behind textbooks, two girls passing notes, another two with earbuds concealed beneath their hair, and one boy with his head down, pretending to read the textbook with his eyes closed. None of them would be able to answer either.
“Sorry,” I say, giving Mrs. Knightly my best apologetic smile. I’m not much for apologies, so I doubt even my best attempt is very successful. “I’m a little lost.”
Flipping through my textbook, as if I’m looking for the answer, I hope she lets my humiliation end there. The room is silent for several long, tense moments. Then she finally says, “Please see me after class.”
As she moves on, putting one of the sheep on the spot for the answer, I slump in my chair. Obviously my warnings are over. I’ll be lucky to get out of this one without detention or a date with the principal.
I do my best to focus during the rest of class, forcing thoughts of Nick from my mind. I copy down everything from the board and even raise my hand once to answer a question. Mrs. Knightly ignores me, and I know I’m in big trouble.
When the bell rings, I put my notes away and walk up to her desk. She is busy writing and doesn’t acknowledge my presence until the last of the sheep shuffles out of the room.
I sneak a peek at the writing and release a relieved sigh when I realize it’s not about me.
She sets her pen down and finally looks up.
“Miss Sharpe,” she says, her voice hard. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again she smiles tightly. “Gretchen. I think we need to talk about what’s going on.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I did.”
The tardy bell rings and I relax back in my seat. Taking a lesson from my ordinary life, I mentally tell my doubts to take a hike. If I can stand up to Miranda, no monster stands a chance.
Ms. West—Sthenno—is right. We’re going to succeed. I just have to trust in fate.
CHAPTER 6
GRETCHEN
I time my arrival in biology so I’m walking through the door just as the bell rings. The last thing I want to face this early in the morning is Nick, so I figure that by arriving with the bell, I can avoid that window of time when we would still be free to talk. Well, he’d be free to talk and I’d be free to ignore him.
Turns out my precision timing is wasted because the seat behind mine is empty.
“Nice of you to join us, Miss Sharpe,” Mrs. Knightly warns as I stride past the front of the class. “Next time, be in your seat before the bell or it’ll be a tardy.”
Some of the sheep—I mean, other students—watch in eager anticipation, hoping I’ll do something gossipworthy. I ignore them.
“Yes ma’am,” I say, mostly to appease her, so I can sink into my chair and let the adrenaline in my bloodstream fade away.
Guess I was more worried than I thought.
Mrs. Knightly starts her lecture, but I can’t concentrate on anything she says. Instead I’m going over everything that happened last night. I was hard on Nick, I know. But he has to know he deserved it. He kept his true identity, his reason for showing up in my life, a secret, and it nearly cost my sisters and me our lives.
I should be furious at him—I am, really—but part of me wants to believe him when he says he’s watching over us, protecting us. Protecting me.
I snort at the thought—and then have to cover up the sound with a brief coughing fit when Mrs. Knightly skewers me with an angry glare. What has he done to protect me? Most of the time I was protecting him.
He must realize by now that I’m the last person on earth who needs protecting. I can take care of myself and my sisters.
Part of me does believe him, though. Believes that he’s on our side—whatever that means. I can’t help wondering where he is and if he’s not here today because of the things I said last night.
My phone vibrates in my cargo pocket.
Mrs. Knightly is focused on writing something about chromosomes and reproduction on the board. Without moving my upper body, I lift my knee, reach down, unbutton the pocket holding my phone, and slide it quietly out into my palm. I pull it up into my lap and look down.
It’s a text from Grace.
My heart thumps and I realize that I’d been hoping it was Nick. Get over it, I tell myself. If he’s scared away, he’s scared away. So what if he’s the only boy who’s ever known my secret? He isn’t interested in me, anyway. He’s just … I don’t know what. Trying to get close to me? Win my trust?
Whatever. He lied to me. I shouldn’t want to talk to him. I shouldn’t want him to call or to be in class to pass notes over my shoulder. I shouldn’t want him at all.
Shaking off these frivolous thoughts, I look down again and read Grace’s message.
Coffee with Sthenno at four at the Grindery in Union Square.
I know the place. It’s too crowded and overpriced for me, but it’s kind of a landmark. I text back a quick Okay and am slipping my phone back into its pocket when I hear my name.
“Miss Sharpe,” Mrs. Knightly says. She sounds annoyed, like she’s been trying to get my attention.
“Yes?” I sit up straight, trying to look like a good, attentive student.
“What is the difference between mitosis and meiosis?”
“Um …” Around me, the sheep snicker. I swing a glare around the room. As if they’re any better. I can see four phones hidden behind textbooks, two girls passing notes, another two with earbuds concealed beneath their hair, and one boy with his head down, pretending to read the textbook with his eyes closed. None of them would be able to answer either.
“Sorry,” I say, giving Mrs. Knightly my best apologetic smile. I’m not much for apologies, so I doubt even my best attempt is very successful. “I’m a little lost.”
Flipping through my textbook, as if I’m looking for the answer, I hope she lets my humiliation end there. The room is silent for several long, tense moments. Then she finally says, “Please see me after class.”
As she moves on, putting one of the sheep on the spot for the answer, I slump in my chair. Obviously my warnings are over. I’ll be lucky to get out of this one without detention or a date with the principal.
I do my best to focus during the rest of class, forcing thoughts of Nick from my mind. I copy down everything from the board and even raise my hand once to answer a question. Mrs. Knightly ignores me, and I know I’m in big trouble.
When the bell rings, I put my notes away and walk up to her desk. She is busy writing and doesn’t acknowledge my presence until the last of the sheep shuffles out of the room.
I sneak a peek at the writing and release a relieved sigh when I realize it’s not about me.
She sets her pen down and finally looks up.
“Miss Sharpe,” she says, her voice hard. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again she smiles tightly. “Gretchen. I think we need to talk about what’s going on.”
