When Rose Wakes (22 page)

“Wow, you’re jumpy today,” he said.

“Wouldn’t you be?”

Dom smiled sadly. “Yeah. Of course. But she’s done, Rose.”

“She’s really suspended?”

“That’s what I’m hearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if they expelled her,” Dom said, navigating her toward the row of lockers on the left. “Listen, this is me, but I’ll see you later, okay. You’re gonna be fine. And, hey, don’t forget we have chorus after school today.”

Rose nodded. “I’ll be there. But I’ll see you later anyway.”

They parted ways and Rose kept moving, the hallway traffic thinning a little bit as students reported to their homerooms. She turned at a junction in the hallway and then had to wait half a minute while a monstrously huge football player named Darrell finished in his locker, which was beside hers.

“Morning, Rose,” Darrell said.

“Um, hi,” she said, surprised. Darrell had said only a few words to her in the days since she had arrived at St. Bridget’s. Now she wondered if he was being nice because of the photo or because he was on the football team with Jared.

Darrell shifted his backpack and glanced shyly away. “Listen, you seem pretty cool. And I know you and Jared are hangin’. But if anyone gives you any problems, you let me know, okay?”

Rose stared at him, this huge, awkwardly sweet knight in shining armor. “I will. And thank you.”

He shrugged as if it meant nothing and then mumbled something before retreating down the hall. Rose watched him go for a few seconds and then set her backpack on the floor in front of her locker, working on the combination. She opened the door, then crouched to unzip her backpack and started swapping books from one to the other, arranging the materials she would need for the day’s classes. Chemistry lab today, and a history quiz.

“Why not do me a favor while you’re down there?”

Rose staggered sideways as she came abruptly to her feet, bumping into her locker door with a clang. Eric leaned against the row of lockers beside hers wearing an expression halfway between a leering grin and a snarl.

“What do you want?” Rose asked.

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding, right? You got my girlfriend suspended. I oughta break your skull on that locker.”

“Try it,” Rose said, steadying her breathing and forcing her hands not to tremble.

“Don’t tempt me,” he muttered, and she knew then that he wouldn’t do it.

“Courtney got herself suspended.” Rose returned to a
crouch, lifting a final book from her locker and slipping it into her backpack.

“Yeah, for that sweet pic of you,” Eric said. “You’ve got a hell of a rack.”

Rose zipped her backpack and stood, slinging it over her shoulder.

“If I’d seen that picture before the other day, I’d have had her lock me in Sima’s closet
with
you. You and me in the dark, that’d be something.”

She slammed her locker, spun the dial on the lock. “I’m sure you have your best luck in the dark, that way girls can’t see the dumb and ugly written all over your face.”

He was fast. His hand came up, gripped her throat, and forced her against the locker so quickly that she couldn’t defend herself. Eric bent close to her, his breath stinking with a terrible rotting odor.

“You want to watch how you talk to me,” he whispered.

Then he was grabbed, two guys hauling him away from her.

“Dude, what the hell?” one of them demanded, even as a dozen other students came to a halt in the hallway, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Get off me!” Eric grunted, extricating himself. He backed up a few steps, staring at her at first with hatred, before that leer returned. “Seriously, though, nice picture.”

Then he turned and walked off as though nothing at all had happened. A teacher Rose recognized but didn’t
know came toward them from the opposite direction, calling for the students to move along. One look at him was enough to tell Rose he hadn’t seen the momentary skirmish, but that was all right. She didn’t want any more attention.

•

Rose did not see Kylie until lunch. They waited in line together with their empty trays, but Rose had no appetite. In a low voice she told Kylie the story of her visit from Eric that morning.

“What a pig,” Kylie said, practically bouncing in place, full of nervous energy and righteous indigation. “You should totally go to Sister Anna.”

“No,” Rose said quickly. “No way. The last thing I need is to have more drama around me. The more of this there is, the harder it will be for them to believe I’m not at least partially to blame.”

Kylie glanced around the cafeteria as though looking for Eric so she could do him harm.

“I guess I see your point. Still, I’d like to stomp the guy.”

Rose couldn’t help laughing.

“What?” Kylie demanded. “You think I couldn’t stomp him?”

“I’m sure you could. It’s just a funny image.”

“Because I’m short.”

“You’re petite.”

Kylie grinned. “That, too. Okay, I’m small. But I could kick his ass.”

“I have no doubt.”

They reached the front of the line and scanned the day’s lunch offerings warily. Nothing looked good, but Rose took a chance on the baked manicotti. As usual, Kylie opted for salad.

“Listen,” Kylie said as they walked toward empty seats at their usual table. “Courtney and Eric… they’re jerks. Total assholes. But Eric’s not going to go any further than he did today. He’s probably already freaking out, hoping you don’t narc on him, or anybody else for that matter. He’s probably worrying about getting arrested or whatever. I told you I think you should report it, but either way, I think they’re done. Neither of them is going to take this any further.”

“You think?” Rose asked, her mood lightening.

Kylie slid her tray onto the table and looked up at her, smiling.

“I do,” she said.

But she was wrong.

Chorus rehearsal ended a few minutes before four p.m. Kylie and Dom had been working to persuade Rose that they needed coffee and muffins at a place they loved called the Sugarplum Café, and with the day still gray and drizzly, she hadn’t taken much convincing. She only hoped that her aunts would agree.

“So we’re going, right?” Dom asked as chorus broke up and they all gathered their things.

“I’ll call my aunts and see if they’re okay with it,” Rose said.

Kylie nodded knowingly at Dom. “She’s coming.”

“Probably,” Rose corrected. “I’m probably coming.”

“So call them,” Kylie said.

“I will! But can you just watch my stuff for a minute?” Rose asked, gesturing to her backpack, jacket, and umbrella, which were in a pile under a desk.

“Where are you going?” Dom asked.

Rose felt herself blush and gave him an exasperated look.

“Oh,” Dom said, getting a laugh out of Kylie.

Rose hurried from the room, waved good-bye to a couple of the other chorus members, and made a beeline down the hall toward the girls’ bathroom. She rounded a corner, passing the room where her religion class was held, and pushed through the bathroom door.

It was colder in the bathroom than anywhere else in the school, a chilly draft sweeping under the stall and raising gooseflesh on her legs. The idea of a big cup of steaming hot coffee grew more and more appealing. After the week she was having, she needed some time with her friends, a chance to exhale.

Rose finished, hiked up her underwear, and smoothed her skirt. As strange as it seemed to her, somehow her mind always seemed to clear when she was alone in the bathroom or taking a shower. Even in her bedroom, she felt preoccupied, like she ought to be doing something to busy her mind—homework or reading or just watching TV. But when she had no distractions, her thoughts settled down.

Surely life wasn’t meant to be as tense and full of conflict as hers had been since she started at St. Bridget’s. She was searching for a life to replace the one she could not remember, but for the first time she had to wonder if maybe her aunts had a point when they were considering a move back to France. Had they all rushed too quickly to
get Rose back into the world? She didn’t want her teenage years to go by without experiencing the things that most people did at her age, but somehow she had gotten on the wrong track.

So start over,
she thought.
Slow down.

It might not be that simple, but she had to do something to get control over her life.

She flushed the toilet, unlocked the stall, and went to wash her hands at the sink. The liquid soap came out in a glob and when she turned the tap, the water rushed out in a splashing torrent that sprayed the front of her uniform.

“Of course,” she said with an amused sigh.

Rose glanced at herself in the mirror, reached up to fix her hair, and then saw movement off to her right, at the edge of the reflection. Startled, she spun around to see Courtney stepping out of the last stall by the window. The girl wore a savage smirk.

“You really think you’re something, don’t you?”

“What are you doing here?” Rose said, glancing toward the bathroom door, thinking about bolting. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You think you’re so special,” Courtney sneered.

Rose’s heart thundered in her chest. She had been made to feel foolish and awkward by this girl, but this was the first time Courtney had made her afraid. The hatred in the other girl’s eyes flickered with a bright whimsy, like she might be capable of anything.

“You’re suspended,” Rose said warily, edging toward the
door, wondering how loud she would have to shout before Kylie and Dom would hear her, all the way around the corner and in the music room. Too far to help.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” Courtney said, starting toward the row of sinks. She paused to admire herself in the mirror. “But I don’t care about that. What I do care about is Eric.”

A spark of anger gave Rose courage. “What about him?”

Courtney turned slowly, her cruel smile fading to a grim line. “Oh, he’s into you now, couldn’t you tell?”

“What?”

“Talks about you nonstop. Loves that goddamn picture of you. My boyfriend, right? But he’s got it bad for you.”

Rose stood her ground. “He wouldn’t even have seen the picture if it wasn’t for—”

Courtney charged at her, cursing under her breath. Rose barely got her hands up in time, and even then Courtney batted them away. She wrapped her right hand around Rose’s throat and punched her in the face once, twice, a third time. Rose grappled with her, trying to tear her hand away, digging her nails into Courtney’s arm even as she tried to twist out of her grasp. She punched the girl once in the stomach, but when she tried it again Courtney grabbed her wrist and yanked it up behind her, then propelled her toward the sink.

Rose stopped herself, grabbing hold of the porcelain, but Courtney followed and shoved Rose’s head into the
mirror so hard that the mirror shattered. Rose fell to the ground, disoriented, trying to blink away the shadows that moved in at the edges of her vision and the blood that dripped into her left eye.

“Get the… get away from me,” she said numbly, trying to clear her head.

Courtney hauled back one foot to kick her. Rose saw it coming and white fury blazed inside her. When Courtney swung her leg, Rose sat up fast and grabbed on with both hands, taking the brunt of the kick in her side but latching on. Scrambling upward, shoving backward, she toppled Courtney. The girl’s arms flailed but she had nothing to break her fall. Her skull hit the tile floor with a crack.

“Lunatic,” Rose whispered, wiping blood from her eyes.

Obviously dazed, Courtney moaned and rolled over, struggling to get to her hands and knees. Breathing in shuddery gasps, Rose went for the door, grabbed the handle, and started to haul it open.

“No, you won’t!” Courtney shouted, lunging up from the floor and reaching for her.

They slammed against the open door and fell in a grapple to the floor of the corridor. Rose began to scream at her to let go, to get off of her. She beat at the girl, tore at her hair, tried to choke her. But then Courtney punched her in the forehead where she’d struck the mirror and glorious pain blossomed there.

Courtney grabbed her ankle and started dragging her back into the bathroom.

Rose struggled and screamed, caught the door frame and held on. Her shouts echoed along the halls, but no one came and that only enraged her further. When Courtney reached for her hands, trying to break her grip, Rose grabbed hold of Courtney’s head, twining her fingers in the girl’s hair. She kicked at Courtney’s belly and legs, still screaming.

“I’ll kill you,” Courtney said, eyes slitted with pain and spite, and Rose knew she meant it.

Then she heard people calling her name from around the corner of the hall. Dom and Kylie had come looking for her. Courtney’s eyes widened in panic and she looked around for a place to run. But Rose wasn’t going to allow that. She staggered up again, grabbed Courtney’s collar and a fistful of hair, and fought to push her back into the bathroom.

“Let go of me!” Courtney said, the weight of consequences in her eyes.

“Not a chance,” Rose snapped, fighting with her.

Courtney tried to tear herself away, clawing and punching, but Rose had a handful of her hair and she held on tight. Footfalls echoed in the hall outside. The October wind gusted through the partially open bathroom window, cold and damp as it swept across the tiles.