She Was the Quiet One. Michele Campbell

She Was the Quiet One - Michele Campbell


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with its tiny alligator, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

      “I am so an orphan. The definition of that is your parents dying, and mine did,” Rose protested.

      Darcy caught Bel’s eye, and they both laughed at Rose’s earnestness. Bel then immediately felt guilty for laughing at her sister. But come on, Rose was uptight. A little teasing would do her good.

      “She’s just joking,” Bel said to Rose.

      “Yeah, sorry, kidding,” Darcy said. “Come on, orphans, we’ll help unload your stuff.”

      Darcy beckoned, and more welcome-committee girls ran over. The extra hands were useful given the mountain of suitcases and boxes stuffed into the trunk of Grandma’s car. The last couple of weeks had been one massive shopping spree, as Grandma got them properly outfitted—her word—for Odell. Rose loved the pastel polo shirts Grandma suggested, the wool sweaters and boat shoes and Bean boots, the formal dresses for dances and dinners. Bel thought they were frumpy and boring. She’d made a stink, and when that didn’t work, she’d begged and pleaded. In the end, Grandma relented and bought Bel some cute things—tops and leggings, jeans, a moto jacket, black suede boots, a couple of minidresses. Both girls also got new phones and laptops, bedding and desk lamps, shower caddies and under-bed storage bins. Grandma didn’t stint, and Bel liked the stuff so much that she got over her hesitation at blowing so much cash. If Grandma didn’t mind, why should she?

      Rose and Bel grabbed suitcases. The welcome-committee girls took boxes and they all headed into the dorm, as one girl held the door open for the others. Manners were a thing here, apparently. Bel was surprised not only at how much help was offered, but how respectfully the girls treated her grandmother. Then again, her elegantly dressed, beautifully coiffed grandma fit right in at Odell, better than Bel did. The girls refused to let Grandma carry a thing, and a girl was deputized to take her in the elevator and show her the twins’ rooms so she wouldn’t have to hike up the steep, slippery marble steps.

      Bel had hoped that she and Rose would be rooming together. But they were on different floors, Rose on two, Bel on three. Darcy ordered another girl to help Rose, while she hauled Bel’s box up the extra flight of stairs to show Bel to her room.

      “Thanks for the help,” Bel said.

      “No worries, we always do it,” Darcy said, huffing. “You’re in a double. All sophomores are. It can be grim or it can be fun, depending on who your roommate is.”

      “Who’s my roommate?” Bel asked.

      “Some dork, probably. C’mon, let’s go see.”

      They walked down a long hallway, lined with closed doors on either side. It was dingier than Bel had expected given the beautifully manicured grounds, with old carpeting, dark wainscoting, and a stale, musty smell. Cards were pinned to each door with the occupants’ names carefully written in calligraphy. Darcy stopped in front of Room 305.

      “This is you. Looks like you’re with Emma Kim,” Darcy said. She braced the box on her knee and flung the door open.

      The room was empty, and extremely tidy. Light streamed through the enormous bay window opposite the door. Bunk beds were crammed in along the wall where they entered, so the open door smacked up against them. Emma had moved in already, claiming a bunk, a dresser and a desk. Her things were neatly laid out, and the bottom bunk was made up with a pretty duvet and pillows. A poster for a boy band hung over her desk.

      “Emma’s probably out on the Quad. There’s a welcome reception you need to get to,” Darcy said.

      “What’s Emma like?” Bel asked dubiously. From her stuff, she was a neat freak with awful taste in music.

      “Kind of a nerd. Not much money. Plays the violin. But she’s pretty, and not a narc. Anyway, if you don’t like her, you’re welcome to hang with me and the seniors.”

      The offer gave Bel a warm buzz. This cool, older girl liked her. Maybe it wasn’t so bad here.

      “Really? I might take you up on that,” Bel said.

      “People’ll tell you we’re a bad influence, but don’t get scared off.”

      “It’s not true?” Bel asked.

      “Oh, no. It is true.”

      Bel laughed, and Darcy smiled at her approvingly.

      “You know,” Darcy said, “when I heard we were getting twins from California, I thought, This could be cool. Then when I heard you were Enrights, I got really excited.”

      “You know my family?”

      “Oh, yeah. My mom and your dad practically grew up together. They belonged to the same country club in Connecticut, and were at Odell at the same time. They even dated. Your dad was a hottie, and something of a wild man, apparently. Then he ran off with this gorgeous Mexican girl he met in college, and my mom was devastated.”

      “That ended up being my mom. She’s from California, but yeah, she was beautiful.”

      “I can tell that by looking at you. Your sister, though? Kind of a dweeb, no?”

      “Rose is all right. She’s just quiet,” Bel said, feeling defensive on her sister’s behalf. Though she couldn’t resist adding, “We’re pretty different.”

      “Family. Can’t live with ’em, can’t kill ’em. My fam’s cool, though. Mom lived in Moreland back in the day, not long after the school went coed. This dorm always had the raddest girls. But now they’re trying to break our spirit.”

      “Who is?”

      “The brass. The headmaster and the trustees. They brought in these new dorm heads to straighten us out, which, trust me, is an impossible task. Besides—”

      Darcy looked at Bel meaningfully, and laughed.

      “What?” Bel asked.

      “They screwed up royally, and they don’t even know it,” Darcy announced, stepping over to the bay window. “C’mere. See that guy in the blue blazer?”

      Bel looked down onto a wide, rectangular lawn, surrounded on all sides by graceful brick buildings. Tables and chairs had been set out in the shade cast by Moreland’s walls. Students and their families were gathered around, listening to an extravagantly good-looking man, who stood a little apart, talking to the crowd, gesturing gracefully with his hands. Bel couldn’t take her eyes off him.

      “Who is he?” she asked, breathlessly.

      “Heath Donovan, the new dorm head, well, cohead, along with his mousy math teacher wife,” Darcy said. “He teaches English, too. Is he the bangin’est thing you ever laid eyes on? All the girls want him. I swear I get tongue-tied around him, and normally I don’t shut up.”

      “He’s gorgeous. Why do you say it was a screwup to make him the dorm head?”

      “A guy like that, in a dorm like this? Come on. By tradition, the Moreland seniors like to cause trouble. It’s practically a graduation requirement. We’re like the biggest beasts, and we have the best pranks planned. Want to hear our crazy idea, inspired by Heath the Hottie?”

      “Of course.”

      “You have to promise not to tell.”

      “I would never,” Bel said.

      “It’s a contest. Which senior girl can bed Donovan first.”

      It took a second for Darcy’s meaning to sink in. A contest to hook up with the dorm head? Bel hoped she wasn’t serious. Yet, when Darcy laughed uproariously, Bel joined in. Who was she to judge? She’d made a cool, new friend. She ought to go with the flow.

      Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, and they already


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