All The Pretty Dead Girls. John Manning
what the hell Tom was talking about, but his intensity had been sexy, and she wanted to see him again. But he never called. She suspected her grandfather had found about it and turned the boy away. What was the use anyway? Why would he want to go out with me when I have to be home by ten on a Saturday night?
“You need to focus on your studies,” Granpa always argued. “Boys are a distraction.” Many times Sue had thought about protesting, holding out for even eleven o’clock as a curfew—but decided it wasn’t worth it. She’d be in college soon enough, she reasoned, and besides, she never knew what to say or how to act around most boys anyway. She certainly didn’t want her breasts pawed at the way Becca described. She didn’t like how Becca and the other girls acted around guys, turning into imbeciles and behaving like fools.
She focused her attention on the eyes of the young man peering through the window at her.
“No, sir,” she said, “I haven’t been driving long. I just got the car last night, in fact.”
She kept her voice deferential and respectful. Another lesson from her grandfather: When dealing with the police, always be polite and show respect. They are doing their jobs. Be cooperative, but never give away any information that they don’t ask for. And if you think you could be in serious trouble, ask for a lawyer immediately. If there’s any question in your mind, ask for a lawyer. It’s your right.
“I suppose I could just let you go with a warning.” The officer was still smiling. “Seems like a bad way to start your school year, with a ticket and all.”
“That would be so great.” All the tension built up inside of her since she heard the siren was swept away and she gave him a real smile. “Wilbourne students are probably a real pain in the ass for you, huh?” she asked in a sympathetic tone.
He shrugged. “Not really. There’s hardly ever any trouble up on the campus, and girls aren’t as big of troublemakers as boys, you know. This your first year then?”
She nodded. “Freshman. Guilty as charged.”
“You’ll like it here. It’ll take some getting used to after Manhattan, because it’s awful quiet around here.” He shook his head. “You’re probably going to miss your boyfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He took off his sunglasses and leaned on the door, bringing his face closer to hers. He was good-looking, Sue decided. He had big brown eyes with thick lashes, a strong nose, thick full lips over strong white teeth. He looked strong, but in a lean narrow-hipped kind of way rather than those thickly muscled jock idiots Becca Stansfield preferred. There was some stubble on his cheeks and chin.
“My name’s Perry Holland,” the cop said.
Taking a chance, Sue buzzed the window all the way down. “Sue Barlow.” She giggled. “But then you knew that already, didn’t you?”
“Nice to meet you.” They shook hands through the window, and then fell silent for a few moments. Perry watched her face for a few moments more before standing back to his full height. “You’d best be getting on to school, Ms. Barlow.”
“Sue.”
“Sue.” Perry nodded. “Be seeing you around.”
I hope so, she thought as she put her window back up. He winked at her before putting his sunglasses back on and walking back to his patrol car. Sue sat there, watching him in the rearview mirror as he made a U-turn and headed back down the shady lane in the direction of the highway.
Sue giggled. Becca would be proud.
The campus was on the other side of Lebanon, and she made sure she followed the speed limit as she drove through the center of town. There was a town square with a courthouse, and little businesses lined the streets that surrounded it. Church spires poked up through the trees. People milled about on the sidewalks, some of them still in their church clothes. Sue drove on, the businesses and houses growing farther and farther apart until she was out of the town and in the country again. Through the bushes on the side of the road, Sue soon became aware of a brown brick wall. It was high and imposing, and Sue realized she had reached the campus. The wall seemed so coldly impenetrable to her—keeping people out of Wilbourne, and keeping the girls in.
After another mile, she saw the massive brick entryway into the campus. A huge wrought-iron arrangement of curlicues and flowers branched from one brick column to the other, and in Gothic letters was spelled out WILBOURNE COLLEGE. Driving through the gates, she followed the campus map the school had sent to her. She was looking for her dormitory, Bentley Hall. All around her, girls were meandering across the campus, some carrying books, most of them in little groups. A pang shot through Sue’s stomach. They all look like they know everybody already. I know no one.
Up ahead, she saw the sign for Bentley Hall. The parking lot in front was already full, but Sue pulled up underneath a big oak tree and sat there for a moment.
This is it, she thought, I’m finally here.
Excitement and trepidation warred within her. She was thrilled to be on her own, but also suddenly frightened. She supposed the fear was normal. She’d grown up very protected, very sheltered. Now she was taking her first steps on her own.
But there was something else, too.
She glanced up at the windows of Bentley Hall. They seemed so dark. Almost as if the glass were painted black. They’re tinted for privacy, she supposed. But for some unknown reason, those black windows terrified her.
Watching from inside her car, Sue felt as if she had entered another world. All noise from the outside world was cut off by the sturdy construction of the Lexus. As she watched the girls stroll past, their lips moving in conversation without making any sound, Sue shivered. Why was she suddenly so afraid?
Get over this, she told herself. You’re here. Go for it!
There were no signs prohibiting parking, so she figured she could leave the car here, at least for now, at least until she got her parking sticker and found her way around. Sue took a deep breath and got out of the car. She stood there for a moment and looked around. The grounds of the campus were immaculately kept. A huge fountain in the middle of a big expanse of lawn bubbled to her left. Bright yellow marigolds and sunny pink petunias bordered the paved pathways leading from Bentley Hall to the other buildings, most of which were red brick, with a few hewn out of brownstone.
Sue’s heart was thudding in her ears as she removed her suitcase from the trunk. Everything else she’d shipped on ahead of time. Ahead of her, there was considerable activity in the dormitory parking lot. Several girls were dragging boxes and suitcases out across the pavement toward for the front door. Sue was glad that Gran had insisted on shipping everything. She pulled up the suitcase’s tow bar and started rolling it through the parking lot, and pulled it up over the curb.
Bentley Hall was enormous. Four floors high, made of neat red bricks and those large dark windows heading off in either direction from the main entrance. A wrought-iron statue of a woman in nineteenth-century clothing stood right beside the entrance. Sue stood there for a moment, staring up at what would be her home for the next four years. Her eyes went from window to window, wondering which were hers, wishing she could see some light—some life—behind one of them. The packet from the school had indicated she would be rooming on the second floor. She began moving her eyes across the line of second floor windows, when something just above—on the third floor—caught her eye.
What was that?
She stared back up at the window, but there was nothing there now.
She shook her head.
She could have sworn she’d seen a girl’s face there.
And it looked as if the girl was screaming.
5
Sue made her way up to the second floor, wrestling her rolling suitcase into an elevator that was packed with other girls and boxes. The other girls all seemed to know each other, laughing