Kelly Hill (3 page)

Jefferson Williams had written her a letter.

Chapter Two

Phillips Academy

Charleston, West Virginia

August 10th, 2008

Jefferson

It had been four days since Ryan revealed the fact that Kelly was staying with him. Four days and Jefferson still hadn’t felt any better about the situation. He knew that he would come up with a way to get rid of Kelly eventually, if he had to, but for now it felt as an albatross around his neck, hanging there for the whole world to see.

Jefferson rolled his head along his shoulders, cracking his neck, trying to lift the metaphorical weight but nothing could console him. He hated Kelly, more so than any reasonable person should hate another creature. But didn’t he have every reason to do so? Didn’t Kelly ensure Jefferson’s hatred?

Jefferson sighed and cracked his knuckles, looking around the rather deserted campus. Now that the moving in phase was mostly over the crowds seemed to have dispersed and left the main quarter empty save for the few that lingered, sitting on marble benches underneath large oak trees.

Jefferson himself sat on one such bench, hoping that no one would bother him, allowing himself to look at the others that sat in solitary, or in small groups of friends, having a decent time of the weather, making the most of the last of their free time.

His eyes lingered on a girl that he recognized from around the school before but had never really spoken to. She was always alone. Always on her own, lost in her own thoughts, in her own personal drive, a quest that Jefferson found admirable.

Jefferson always liked those traits in people. The ones that reminded him of himself. That way he could feel more connected to the world than he really was. That way he knew that there were other people out there, like him. Existing and being okay.

Jefferson looked at the way her ankles were crossed off to the side, her golden hair pulled back in a loose braid, kept just out of her eyes. He could see that she had spent time that morning making sure that her outfit matched and she looked positively put together. What was her name again? Gunn? Rachel Gunn?

Jefferson ran his tongue over pearly white teeth and stood up, might as well introduce himself if he was going to spend so much time thinking about her. Right?

He straightened his jacket and walked across the quad, feeling the late summer breeze on his face, ruffling his black hair. He smiled as she looked up at him and extended a hand. “Hi. I’m Jefferson Williams. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Rachel nodded and he saw her throat move with a nervous swallow, “I know who you are.”

Her eyes were bluer than he expected them to be. And wider. They sat perfectly on a heart shaped face that was quite symmetrical. It was almost perfect. She smiled at him, a warm gentle smile, one that let him know she was kinder than he was.

Jefferson liked that more than he thought he would. There was something about that smile that made him want to sit down and talk to her for a while. Something delicate.

Rachel was blushing now, a light pink on pale cheeks, “I’m Rachel.”

“What are you reading?” Jefferson nodded at the book that was now sitting in her lap, set down to shake his hand.

Rachel glanced down at the book and then looked back up at him. Jefferson could see that she was looking for just the right words to say to him. That somewhere she was formulating the perfect sentence. “It’s for my advanced psychology class.”

“Oh?” Jefferson felt the corner of his mouth move up into a half smile of sorts, he had taken that course last year. She would catch up to his classes quickly if she pushed herself. “I took that last year. Interesting to say the least.”

“
Mm.” Rachel made a noise in the back of her throat and shifted so that she was moved over more, making room for him on the bench. “I’m enjoying what I’ve read so far.”

Finally, reluctantly, Jefferson let go of her hand, knowing that he had held onto it for too long. But also knowing that she hadn’t bothered to let go either.

Jefferson knew that she was going to offer a part of her bench for him to sit down, but he felt better standing. Always had. Sitting made him feel… more exposed. Vulnerable almost. He’d much rather have the vantage he was placed at in this very moment.

“
Are you ready for classes to start?” Rachel asked, as if she had nothing else to say. He knew that she was thinking about several other things, he could see them brewing behind her eyes, pools of thought that he didn’t mind looking into for some time.

But he decided to humor her simple question anyway, because that was the safe option. He could pick apart a person in a matter of minutes, but he’d rather not do that with Rachel.
 Intellectually, she could very well be his equal and he liked that.

“
I think so.” He put his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket and he felt himself lick his bottom lip, thinking about what the next thing to say would be. “Are you?”

“
I’ve been ready since June.” Rachel laughed, embarrassed by her admission. She pushed a stray golden curl out her face and he watched the way it caught the sunlight. Perfect.

“
I don’t know if I could spend that much time here.” If Jefferson was being honest, he liked the three month break every year. It gave him time to go home and recuperate, regain his strength as it were.

Rachel’s blushing cheeks flushed crimson now, still embarrassed and Jefferson felt himself smile, a genuine real smile, one that he didn’t have to force or fake for the benefit of others. A smile that was all Rachel’s.

“Well, I really like Phillips.” Rachel started to gather up her things, getting ready to leave their conversation. Jefferson wanted to keep talking to her. He wanted to keep making her blush, he wanted to watch the wind dance in the tendrils of her hair and he wanted to look at her too blue eyes. “But I think I have to go. I have an appointment with Headmistress Grear this afternoon and I’m afraid I might be running late.”

“
Well, I’ll walk you then.” Jefferson offered, knowing that she wouldn’t turn him down. He was Jefferson Williams after all.

She stood shifting her books around, “If you want to.”

Jefferson took her books from her and tucked them under his arm. “Rachel, there is nothing more that I rather do right now.”

Agoura Hills, California

June 3rd 2010

Rachel

It was seven in the morning and Rachel still hadn’t gone to sleep yet.

The birds had started singing around four in the morning when she decided that it was time to finish the pleats on the skirt she had been working on.

Slowly Rachel decompressed the pedal with her foot that caused the needle in the sewing machine to come to life. It methodically moved up and down as she guided the thin cotton fabric and the rhythmic pulse of the process brought a sense of calm to her.

If there was one thing that always made her feel better, it was sewing. Sewing was easy. Sewing made sense.

Rachel was still in the clothes from the day before and she hadn’t bothered to try and wash any of the make-up off of her face, but it didn’t matter.

She just needed some time to sit down and think by herself.

Time.

That’s what Rachel felt like she was lacking.

When everything was said and done at the end of every day she would mentally go over in her head every moment that she had managed to waste.

For some reason, that day she had felt like she hadn’t deserved rest and her brain demanded that she get caught up. That she make up for the time lost.

Now, it was seven in the morning and she knew that a new day was starting.

Just another day gone without any sleep.

That was alright though; she had finished her skirt, folded the laundry, got even more ahead in several of her online college prep classes and had even managed to start baking a quiche for breakfast.

Even if it hadn’t been a very productive day, she had made it an extremely productive night.

Anything to keep the unwanted thoughts at bay. Anything to stop her brain from reminding her that Kelly Hill was downstairs, sleeping in her basement. After everything she had done, he was still there.

Rachel held up the skirt for her inspection, perfectly aware of how far away the seam rippers were if she wasn’t completely satisfied with her work.

Luckily she found it more than adequate and so, with a satisfied sigh, she folded the finished skirt and laid it gently across her sewing table, contemplating what she could do next.

As her eyes scanned her room they caught sight of the dark mark on her nightstand. The letter that she wasn’t ready to read. She sat there in silence, looking at the unassuming paper envelope, wondering just what he could possibly have wanted to say to her after all this time.

Her alarm brought Rachel away from her thoughts of Jefferson at exactly seven fifteen and her left hand lightly tapped the “off” button. Trying to move away from the melancholy thoughts that had drummed up she turned back to the skirt she had just finished. It was perfect. It was complete. One more task finished. Something she could understand.

Rachel used to keep the alarm clock on her night stand, right next to her pillow, but soon she realized that it was incredibly simple to just keep it on her sewing table, seeing as that’s where she wound up most mornings.

Rachel stretched and felt refreshed. Accomplished even. A feeling that she rarely had since leaving Phillips. Almost at least, not totally, but enough.

Not long ago, Phillips Academy had been her home.

And not just the place that she stayed because she paid tuition to stay in the dorms, but her true blue, love being there, home.

A place she felt like she could rest her head and everything would be alright.

She had friends. She had a boyfriend. And she was able to study as much as she wanted to.

Rachel’s favorite thing to do was fill up her course load and still manage to have a semblance of a social life.

She was living her dream out in style and praying to get into the college of her dreams.

Not that she had decided which dream that was yet. There was several that she could follow. Different avenues that were just as bright as all the others. And there were no doors closed to her.

But Rachel didn’t feel like she was done learning yet, done discovering. She always hoped that she could find something that could keep her as busy as Phillips did, but in the back of her mind, she knew that nothing ever would.

Phillips was a wondrous place for her and when she had to leave it had been the worst thing that she could ever imagine.

But Rachel would never let that show. Because letting it show meant that her father would contest the board’s ruling. And that meant talking about everything that she just wasn’t quite ready to talk about yet.

That meant discussing Ryan Prescott and Melody Jeffords. That meant bringing up Jefferson Williams. And that meant Kelly Hill. Everything led back to Kelly Hill.

That meant not being able to just move on.

Rachel Gunn was never a person to air her dirty laundry in public and she sure wasn’t going to start now. She had always lived by the belief that a person’s outwards appearance should always conceal the personal matters that lingered beneath.

She didn’t want everyone else knowing her business, and she didn’t need to talk about it.

Rachel made her way over to her perfectly organized closet and decided that she was in a yellow mood that day.

Having taken several psychology courses, Rachel knew just what that meant for herself, but she didn’t mind. Everyone would look at the color and find it cheery and bright, they wouldn’t remember that it was closely associated with cowardice, impatience, and criticism.

She pulled out a yellow and white dress with a crocheted floral pattern on it and picked out a large brimmed, white sun hat to match.

There was more walking that she would have to do and she wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to burn.

Rachel was one of those people cursed with far too fair of skin. It was too pale in the winter time, like an alabaster doll, and in the summertime, when others were able to turn a golden brown she burned and wilted, staying a lobster red for several weeks.

To match the hat and sundress, Rachel grabbed her white satin heels with the bows on the backs and proceeded to pick out her jewelry.

Of course, her signature gold watch was a part of the mix, as was the gold heart pendant her father had gotten her for her tenth birthday.

Rachel’s eyes lingered on the jewelry that she kept away from all the rest and sighed. It was all handmade things from her mom dating back to when she was just a baby. Things that Rachel didn’t have the heart to throw out, but never really wanted to wear.

It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t like her mom. No, she loved her mother. Always had, always would. It was just that... they were two completely different people.

Helen DeVross lived by the philosophy of loving life and letting everything else fall where it may.

Rachel did not share her sentiments. A fact that was rather contentious at most family gatherings.

After Rachel was satisfied with how she was going to present herself to the world for the day, she went into her bathroom that connected to her bedroom and the hallway via two separate, locking doors.

Technically speaking, it was a guest bathroom, open to everyone in the house, but Rachel was the only person residing on the third floor and no one ventured up there except to find her, so she always just referred to the bathroom as her own.

Rachel started the water for her shower and let it warm up while she got undressed.

She gingerly stepped into the shower and let the hot water pelt her body. Rachel lingered there for a moment longer than she had to, allowing herself a second of relaxation before she began her morning regimen. Showers were a ritual for her. They signified the start of a new day. They helped wash off all the painful feelings from the day before.

It was when her hands were full of bubbles from the shampoo lathered in her hair that she heard a knock at the door.

Rachel stopped moving and listened, thinking that maybe she misheard it. No one should be awake at this hour, Ethan and his friends had stayed up late into the night and should still be sleeping. Her father was out of town for the week and wasn’t expected back till next Thursday.

She should virtually be alone.

But, as if to prove her wrong, there it was again.

A simple, polite, knock.

“Hello?” Rachel called out; it was probably Ethan, wondering if he could eat the quiche that was slow cooking. Hoping that it wasn’t anyone else.

For a split second, Kelly’s face flashed through her mind and she pushed the thought down.

That was the last thing she wanted to worry about.

“
Rachel?” said a voice that she didn’t recognize as her brother’s.

“
Just a minute!” Rachel shouted back, rinsing the shampoo from her hair and beginning to condition it.

“
I’ll uh.” There was a pause. “I’ll be in the kitchen, okay?” the voice said, sounding less bold than before.

Rachel rinsed the conditioner out of her hair and finished up her shower.

Quickly, she dried off and got dressed.

Rachel took the time to apply a light layer of foundation and some mascara, just to help define her eyes, nothing too gaudy, she wasn’t the type of girl to over apply her facial products, she wasn’t trying to sell anything but she did want to look like she cared.

After it was all said and done Rachel looked at herself in the mirror. She looked just as she had expected to look. Everything was in place and put together. Not a piece was out of order. She was Rachel Gunn and she looked the part.

Now, to deal with the oddity in her kitchen.

Rachel made her way down the stairs in her bare feet, leaving her shoes and hat upstairs for the time being.

She glanced at the grandfather clock on the second floor landing as she passed it and felt more confusion rising in her gut. It was barely eight.

The quiche wouldn’t be ready for another ten minutes and she was almost positive that Ethan, Logan and Kelly were sleeping.

They had complained bitterly all the day before about being sleep deprived and needing a good rest.

They had no interest in the itinerary that Rachel had made up for them to follow and all they wanted to do, it seemed, was drink beer and play video games in the basement.

She had left them to do their own thing around seven o’clock at night and had heard the bombs going off from some Xbox game well into the night. They should be sleeping.

But as Rachel turned the corner her eyes laid on the thin back of Kelly Hill. High school dropout. But really, so much more than that.

“
Hey.” Rachel alerted him to her presence and he turned around, looking almost startled.

“
Hey.” He said back, his face showing little to no emotion on it, then he smiled, not a lot, but enough to let her know that he was thinking about something.

“
Was that you...?” Rachel trailed off, trying to think of the words that would finish her sentence without alluding to the fact that they had spoken while she was in the shower.

“
Yeah,” Kelly didn’t make her finish, “I was wondering if you wanted anymore help with breakfast.”

Rachel stared at him a little longer than was proper. Why was he even here?

“Um. Sure.” She nodded at the fridge, “You can help cut up the fruit.”

“
Sounds good.” Kelly put his hands on the tan counter top of the island in the middle of the kitchen, “Where do I start?”

“
We need to get the fruit, first.” Rachel blinked, her face unable to come up with a pleasant expression. He clearly had something more he wanted to say. Why wasn’t he just out with it?

Kelly opened the refrigerator door and started poking around before he was given proper instructions.

“Grab the cantaloupe and strawberries.” She had made sure to go grocery shopping before she had to pick them up, but she was afraid that maybe she hadn’t gotten enough food now.

Once the specified fruit was out on the countertop and Rachel had acquired a cutting board and knife, she began to wash the fruit.

Kelly instinctively began to wash the items and lay them out on a folded up towel to dry, “It was really nice of you to help us out yesterday,” He said with his back turned to Rachel. “Sorry we were late.”

Again, surprised by Kelly’s attitude, Rachel was taken aback, but she brushed it off like she hadn’t even noticed it. “Oh it was no problem. It’s hard to gauge those things when you’re traveling.”

She got down a green bowl and began slicing the cantaloupe. “I mean, it’s not like you were
that
late.”

Kelly gave her a sideways look while he started to prepare the strawberries, a small smile playing on his lips, “Are you sure about that?”

Rachel forced a chuckle, “Of course I’m sure. Ethan’s never been on time for anything a day in his life.”

Kelly didn’t take his eyes off of Rachel and she could feel him studying her as she concentrated on the melon.