She Was the Quiet One. Michele Campbell
her classmates, with their summers filled with golf and tennis, their vacations abroad and tutors for every subject, Rose had grown up underprivileged. But she intended to keep up with the Joneses in every way, and she didn’t want Mrs. Donovan doubting her.
“Don’t worry, I’m very organized. When my mother was sick, I bought the groceries, I did the laundry and the cooking. I dealt with the doctors. I even paid the bills, with help from my grandmother. And I still got straight A’s, although admittedly, my old school was easy compared to Odell.”
Mrs. Donovan’s face softened with sympathy. “You poor thing. To be burdened like that, at your age. No wonder you’re trying to be superwoman. We have excellent therapists in the health center. You should talk to someone.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It can help you process your grief over losing your mom.”
“I try not to dwell on things that make me sad. I put them out of my mind, and go on the best I can.”
“Everybody needs to talk things out, Rose. That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to ask about your sister.”
“My sister?”
“Yes. Is everything all right between you and Bel?”
“Everything’s fine. Why?” Rose asked, alarmed.
“I heard through the grapevine that the two of you had a falling-out.”
Damnit! Kids had been gossiping about that incident in the dining hall, and it must’ve gotten back to Mrs. Donovan. Rose had been livid about the whole incident, to the point that she hadn’t spoken to Bel since, despite Bel’s multiple attempts to apologize. This whole mess was Bel’s fault, and Mrs. Donovan needed to know that.
“There was an incident in the dining hall the first day of classes,” Rose began.
“Go on.”
“Bel . . . Well, she can be immature, and she doesn’t always have the best judgment. We were talking a minute ago about mean girls in Moreland. I’m afraid Bel’s fallen in with that crowd. Darcy Madden, and her friend Tessa, that redheaded girl. She was sitting with them at lunch, and I tried to get her to move tables. I’m worried they’ll get her into trouble.”
Mrs. Donovan looked at Rose with concern in her eyes.
“I can’t comment specifically on other students’ disciplinary history. But you’re right about that group being a problem. So that caused trouble between the two of you.”
“We haven’t spoken since,” Rose said, conveniently omitting the fact that she was the one refusing to speak to Bel, not the other way around.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Donovan said.
“Is there anything you can do?” Rose asked.
“Do?”
“To get Bel to stop hanging out with them.”
“Well. I suppose I could ask Heath to mention it to her. He’s her advisor.”
“That would be great. I’ll be honest, if Bel gets in trouble, I’m afraid it’ll reflect badly on me.”
“Rose, you keep mentioning Bel getting in trouble. Is she doing something she shouldn’t? Something specific, not just socializing with the wrong crowd. If you’re aware that other students are breaking the rules, you’re supposed to report them. Even if it’s your sister. The Honor Code requires it. Do you understand?”
Rose thought again about the contest to seduce Mr. Donovan. Bel’s new best friend was behind it. She hoped that didn’t mean her sister was involved with it. But she didn’t have proof, and she was afraid to say anything. Not only would it be terribly awkward to bring this up with Mrs. Donovan, but Rose could wind up with a reputation as a rat. That was social suicide at Odell.
“I haven’t heard anything specific,” Rose insisted. “Nobody tells me anything because I’m known as a girl who follows the rules. I just worry about my sister.”
“I understand. I’ll ask Heath to speak to her about the company she keeps. But there’s something I need to ask of you in return.”
“Okay.”
“Make up with Bel. Talk through your differences. You two are both new here. You’ve been through a lot. You need each other. Can you do that, Rose? Please? For me?”
Rose hesitated. She was hurt and pissed off enough that she really didn’t feel like making up with her sister. Not yet. Still, she couldn’t refuse Mrs. Donovan’s request, when Mrs. Donovan represented everything that was good and kind in the world.
“I’ll try,” she said, taking another cookie. “Promise.”
Bel had a stalker. Zachary Cuddy from her Spanish class wouldn’t leave her alone. She’d hooked up with him the second week of school, on the night of the opening dance, and immediately realized her mistake. She’d been trying to shake him ever since, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Zach seemed to think he owned her, even though they hadn’t done more than fool around briefly in the woods. Yet nearly every day, he’d claim the seat next to her at morning convocation, or wait for her after Spanish to escort her to her next class. Yesterday, she’d turned around in the lunch line to find Zach standing right behind her, literally breathing down her neck. She nearly screamed. She’d tried ignoring him, laughing at him, running in the opposite direction, telling him to knock it off or she’d tell a teacher—nothing worked. He’d just look at her with puppy-dog eyes and beg her to tell him what he’d done wrong, so he could fix it.
Zach was one of several mistakes in Bel’s brief Odell career that could be laid at Darcy Madden’s door. Bel did whatever it took to please Darcy, and unfortunately the things that pleased Darcy had a certain twisted quality. Yet, Darcy’s friendship cast a circle of light so bright that Bel ignored the consequences. To be inside Darcy’s circle was to be among the chosen. Most Odell kids were earnest and square, but Darcy’s friends were different. They laughed, and did wild things—bad things even—but they were bulletproof, and never suffered. Darcy and her crew hailed from old Odellian families with gobs of money. If they misbehaved, or broke rules, Mom and Dad met with the headmaster, and the kid got sentenced to counseling or, at worst, rehab. Bel had already seen this, with a girl named Mia who got suspended for alcohol the first week of school. She went home for three days, and came back smiling, with a tan, a new pair of Saint Laurent boots, and a fifth of bourbon that they drank the same night in Darcy’s room. Life in Darcy’s circle was a big joke. The terrible pressures of Odell—the crushing workload, the college-admissions race, the insane three-hundred-page code of conduct manual—vanished at the flick of Darcy’s shiny, blond hair. Bel needed to be part of that. It wasn’t the money that turned her head, or the privilege. It was the freedom from fear.
Bel didn’t stop to calculate the cost of doing Darcy’s bidding, but in the back of her mind, she knew it was adding up. Under Darcy’s influence, she’d turned her back on her sophomore classmates (a bunch of uptight bores), allowed her sister to be insulted in front of the entire dining hall (Rose was too sensitive, anyway), worn pajamas to class on a dare (so hilarious, even though she’d gotten two demerits, and four meant suspension), and snuck out of the dorm to smoke weed out at Lost Lake (so chill, though getting caught could mean expulsion). Bel felt bad about those things, and yet, she also felt good—carefree, young, and most of all, flattered to be included. Being Darcy’s pet made her somebody important, where otherwise, Odell would grind her down.
The Zach hookup happened because Darcy decreed it. Darcy worried that her boyfriend, Brandon Flynn, was paying too much attention to Bel. You’re like the new toy, Darcy had said threateningly, better watch you don’t get chewed. Bel had done nothing to encourage Brandon’s attention. She found him repugnant, actually. Husky build, sandy hair,