The two weeks until the dance seemed to last months, and Allie felt that the entire school was in a state of suspended animation. Classes dragged. Teachers refused to give in to student apathy and distraction so coursework piled up, but, for the first time, the library was largely empty in the evening.
‘If I get behind this week … so be it,’ Jo pronounced, the drama of her statement somewhat undermined by the fact that she was sitting on her bed and waving a tiara. ‘I’ll catch up next week.’
‘Hear hear!’ Allie was lying on her stomach on the floor, flipping through a beauty magazine and contemplating hairstyles. ‘Maybe I should get my hair cut short?’ She held up a picture of a pixie-ish model.
Jo tilted the tiara in her direction. ‘A new haircut lifts your spirits, young Allie. Never forget that. But that’s too short for your face shape, FYI.’
Allie turned the page. ‘Wise words, Josephine. Wise words.’
Back in her room, the white dress hung tantalisingly from Allie’s wardrobe door, with Jo’s shoes arranged neatly on the floor beneath it. Every morning when she woke up that was the first thing she saw, and each night she ticked another day off a mental calendar.
While Allie was trying to keep up with her classwork, she was finding it nearly impossible to concentrate. So a few days before the ball, when she found herself reading the same paragraph in her history book for the fifth time, she gave up on the entire enterprise. Standing up from her desk she stretched, then stood looking out the window at the sunshine.
I’ve got to move.
She pulled on her running clothes and gathered her hair into a ponytail. As she slipped down the stairs she passed only one other student and on the landing, when she leaned over to look down at the main floor, she could see nobody at all. Outside, the sun beat down on the soft green grass. From the front steps she could see a number of bodies baking on towels and blankets spread out on the lawn, but she never could understand the attraction of just lying in the sun. Instead, she struck out for the summerhouse, jogging at a brisk pace. Movement had always helped to calm her down, and now she threw herself into it, running faster down the footpath. She counted each footstep quietly under her breath.
‘Two hundred and ninety-six. Two hundred and ninety—’
‘Why do you do that?’
The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and it startled Allie so much that she tripped and nearly fell down, and had to grab a tree branch for support.
Carter stood on the edge of the path, his hands on his hips. Panting, she bent over to rest her hands on her knees while she caught her breath.
When she stood up, she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. ‘What? You’re speaking to me now, Carter? I’m honoured.’
Ever since their altercation in the library Carter had avoided her, and she’d been happy to let him.
He acted as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘That counting thing. I’ve heard you do it before. Why do you do that?’
‘It’s none of your bloody business, you stalker. Now get lost.’
Turning back down the path she took off running again, but he easily matched her stride.
‘It was a simple question.’
Allie gave a frustrated squeak and sped up, anger propelling her. But he didn’t fall behind, and finally she shouted at him in short bursts.
‘You don’t. Ignore somebody. For weeks. And then. Ask them. Personal questions. You. Arsehole.’
‘Temper.’
‘Whatever.’
Silence fell as she concentrated on not speaking to him.
‘Allie, don’t trust Sylvain.’
‘I’m ignoring you.’
‘I can’t go into why. But he’s not who you think he is.’
She slowed down and glared at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He started to speak, then stopped. Shaking her head in disgust she ran away down the path – after a while she couldn’t hear his footsteps behind her any more.
When the summerhouse roof appeared above the trees, even through her rage, Allie gasped. She hadn’t been able to really see it properly that night in the rain. It was beautiful – a fanciful construction, with a narrow, pointed roof rising twenty-five feet high, covered in brightly coloured Moorish tiles in an intricate design.
Six delicately carved pillars supported the vivid roof. She climbed up the steps into the shady, open air interior, where a stone banister and benches circled the edges. Sitting down on the cool seat she rested her chin on her arm as she looked out into the woods. Carter was nowhere to be seen.
What was he going on about? Was it just jealousy? Or was he serious?
He sounded serious.
She tried to think of anything Sylvain had done to make her doubt him. He’d always been there for her when she was in trouble. He’d protected her from Zelazny. Yes, he was slick, and yes, apparently he was super-rich, but he didn’t act like a snob. He seemed kind. Carter on the other hand had been difficult, pushy, judgmental and threatening.
It was obvious who she should trust.
I just don’t understand why Carter cares so much.
That night at dinner, when Allie arrived at the table Jo, Lisa and Ruth were talking animatedly in low voices.
‘You have to do it, Lisa,’ Jo said. ‘It’s tradition.’
‘I’m going to do it, and you know I hate this sort of thing,’ Ruth said.
Clearly reluctant, Lisa stirred food around her plate, her long, straight hair swinging forward around her face. ‘I don’t know. It’s just a bit weird.’
‘What’s weird?’ Allie asked pulling up a chair. ‘What’s for dinner tonight? I hope it’s lasagne.’
‘The Summer Splash!’ Jo’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm. ‘It’s always the night before the summer ball, and Lisa doesn’t want to do it. But she has to. And I thought you were only eating salad.’
‘Oh balls,’ Allie said. ‘I’d forgotten about the salad thing. And what the hell’s a Summer Splash?’
She poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the table.
‘Oh, crikey. I completely forgot to tell you about it.’ Jo let go of Lisa’s arm and turned to Allie. ‘It’s a tradition. Sixth formers sneak out at midnight the night before the ball and go swimming in the pond.’
Puzzled, Allie looked at Lisa. ‘What’s wrong with that? Can’t you swim?’
Raising her chin, Lisa shot an accusing look at Jo. ‘Not just swimming. Tell her the whole truth.’
Jo rolled her eyes. ‘OK, fine. Skinny-dipping. Must you be such a prude, Lisa? It’s going to be awesome!’
Allie choked on her water. ‘What? All of us? Guys and girls? Naked?’
Ruth pounded her on the back.
‘It’s dark, Allie.’ Jo was beginning to sound exasperated. ‘And it’s no big deal. You just dive in and then jump out and put your clothes back on. It’s not a porn movie. It’s good, clean, wholesome fun and it’s a tradition and you have to do it because I don’t want to do it alone.’
Allie leaned towards her. ‘Let me make sure I’m getting this – you, me, Ruth, Lisa, our dates for Friday night and a bunch of strangers are going to get naked in a pond. Together. For fun.’
‘Exactly!’ Jo said brightly. ‘And we’re all going to be there, right?’
Lisa looked nauseous.
‘Surely Allie’s not invited.’ Katie stood by their table, as beautiful as ever. ‘She’s too new. This is for Cimmeria students.’
‘Oh bugger off, Katie. Seriously.’ Jo glared at her.
Katie stood her ground. ‘I’m serious, Jo. I really don’t think it’s fair. I’m going to speak with Jules about it.’
‘You can’t speak with Jules about it you moron,’ Jo said. ‘It’s unofficial. She can’t do anything about it.’
‘Jo,’ Allie said, her jaw set, ‘when did you say this splash thing happens?’
‘Midnight Thursday,’ Jo said with a wicked glint in her eye.
‘Great. I’ll be there.’
Katie gave her a chilling look. ‘If you do this, Allie, then don’t go crying to Isabelle if anything happens. Just remember I warned you.’
As Katie walked away Allie muttered under her breath: ‘Yeah, and you care because you’re my best friend, Katie.’
Jo snickered. ‘Forget her. I’m glad you’re going to do it. I’ve been looking forward to this since I got to Cimmeria. If Lisa and Ruth come too we can just all do it together, and it will be even better.’
Looking miserable, Lisa stared at her empty plate. Allie smiled at Jo, but her heart sank. Already she regretted her rashness in agreeing to go. Still. How bad could it be?
‘But how do we get out of the school without getting caught?’ she asked. ‘I mean, do the teachers just let you go and dive naked into a lake in the dark?’
Jo’s face told her the answer before she said a word. ‘They do whatever they can to stop us. I mean, imagine the wrath of parents if one of us got hurt.’ She smiled cheerfully. ‘Getting out is half the fun.’
As the kitchen doors opened and the staff walked in carrying platters of lasagne, Allie groaned. ‘I’m not sure which is worse, being forced to skip lasagne, or swimming naked with Katie Gilmore.’
‘Gabe and I have a plan for getting out,’ Jo said. ‘Let’s talk about it after dinner. Come to my room at eight and we’ll plot.’ She began filling her plate with salad. ‘I love plotting.’
At ten past eight that night, Allie stood in the hallway outside Jo’s door. Hearing voices inside, she raised her hand to knock … then put it down again. After a moment she straightened and tapped on the door then turned the handle and stepped inside.
Jo, Lisa, Ruth, Gabe and Lucas were sitting in a circle. Allie took a spot on the floor between Ruth and Lucas, and, pulling her feet up, wrapped her arms around her knees. Gabe was pointing at a small area on a map.
‘… so, given all of that, I think the only safe way out is through the classroom wing.’
Lucas looked sceptical. ‘Hang on, all we know is that all the other doors will be watched. Why wouldn’t they guard that one too?’
‘Two reasons,’ Gabe said. ‘First, because The Rules say we can’t go in that wing outside of class hours under any circumstances – so the amount of trouble we’d get in if we were caught is pretty serious. Second, because it’s marked as an alarmed fire door.’
‘What will we do about the alarm?’ Allie asked.
Gabe’s reply was simple. ‘There is no alarm.’
There was an uproar, and Gabe, who seemed to enjoy their astonishment, held out his hands for silence. ‘There are no alarms anywhere in this building at all. Any sign that says “alarm” is a lie.’
Lisa’s quiet voice broke the stunned silence. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Gabe said. Watching him closely, Allie got the feeling he was lying. He knew precisely why. He just didn’t want to say.
No fire alarms. No burglar alarms. Nothing to warn anybody about anything.
‘So,’ Jo brushed aside the alarm conversation, ‘how do we get into the classroom wing without attracting attention?’
‘I know that one,’ Lucas said. ‘Here’s what we do …’