THE COMMONS
But I’m not alone.
The voice comes from my right. “You can take it off now.”
I rip off the blindfold, relieved.
The room is dark, but my eyes have adjusted. I’m in a large space, windowed along one wall, with a sloping ceiling. Sofas and chairs and oversize beanbags are scattered throughout. The windows are open, and the mountains are shadows outside, huge and ominous, their very presence pressing in on me.
A few lights shine in the distance; fireflies still dance among the trees. It is beautiful and terrible at once, and fear skitters through my body. I instinctively take a step backward. The open windows—it is a long fall to the ground.
“What is this place?” My voice is too quiet, my breath shallow. It is claustrophobic, this vast expanse before me closing in through the night.
Becca Curtis flicks a lighter and sets it to a candle, then steps out of the shadows with it in her hand.
“The Commons. It’s a study room. It’s quiet here. We’re all very studious, you know.”
In the candlelight, Becca’s green eyes are a bit bloodshot. Has she been the one smoking? Surely pot isn’t allowed here, even among the vaunted seniors.
“Thank you for coming,” Becca says conversationally. “I wouldn’t have blamed you for dismissing the summons out of hand.”
“I had a choice? Then, by all means, I’ll bid you goodnight.”
Becca laughs. “Ash. Stay. We should talk.”
“About what?”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No. I’ve heard you’re quite brilliant.”
“Hmm. Do I look fat?”
“It’s dark, but no. You don’t.”
“Then your insult was not only ill-advised but inaccurate and illogical.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sit.” Becca takes a chair, pats the sofa cushion nearest her. She sets the candle on the coffee table. I carefully lower myself, muscles clenched in case I need to flee. I don’t like this place at all.
“If, Ash, by your own admission, I am neither fat nor dumb, then calling me a daft cow was a weak insult.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ash, Ash. You’re a Goode girl now. Your insults must be precise. Cutting. Elegant. Intelligent. You’re an intellectual girl, you can surely do better. Where did you learn computers?”
“In England. I like them. They’re easy for me.”
“Tell me about your life there. Tell me about your family.”
“I have no family. I’m an orphan.”
“A rich British orphan. How quaint. Let me guess, there’s some mad aunt in the attic who left you her estate and money?”
“No. My parents were wealthy. They had accounts for me. There’s a regent who handles the funds.”
“A regent. My. Aren’t you fancy. So very British.”
Here we go.
“If you’ve brought me here to mock me or terrorize me, can we get on with it?”
It is a brave speech, but I’m not feeling very brave at the moment. The chill in the air is making me shiver, and I have the most awful sensation of someone watching me. The hair on the back of my neck is standing on end. I shift, sliding my head down into the couch cushion so I’m not so exposed.
“I have no intention of terrorizing you,” Becca says. “I want you to do something for me.”
Uh-oh. All hands on deck, this is going to be good.
“What?”
“I need you to hack into Dean Westhaven’s email. She’s been speaking with my mother and I want to know what’s being said.”
“Are you completely bonkers? No. Absolutely not. I’m sorry.”
“No. You never apologize for something you didn’t do wrong. You say ‘excuse me.’ Never ‘I’m sorry.’ If you spend your life apologizing, you’ll never gain any confidence.”
Becca takes down her ponytail and begins twisting her thick hair into a braid. Her tone is so casual I fear what else she’s going to ask. Something’s coming. Something’s up.
“But in this case, I do apologize. I should have been more clear. I’ll pay you, of course. I notice you’ve been borrowing your suitemate’s dresses. You might appreciate being able to get some clothes of your own.”
I borrowed Piper’s dress once. My God, how closely is she watching me?
“You’re raving mad. That’s an Honor Code violation.”
Becca laughs again. “Who are you going to tell? I’m the head of the judicial board. You’re supposed to report code violations to me. And I’m giving you the instructions. You won’t get caught, not if you’re as good as you think you are.”
“I am that good, and I still won’t do it. You can tease and bully all you want, but I won’t. If you push me, I’ll inform the dean of your request. I doubt she’ll be so amused. You’re violating the code just by asking me to do this, aren’t you?”
Dice, thrown. I keep my head high, staring Becca in her pretty, bloodshot, evergreen eyes. There is no way I’m going to play along with this girl. I have too much at stake to be tossed out of Goode because of someone else’s mommy issues.
Becca smiles and does a slow clap. The transformation on her face is confusing. She seems almost...friendly now.
“Bravo. You’ve passed.”
“What?”
“I was testing you. You passed. Now run along. I have work to do. That damn Python project will be the death of me. If I don’t figure it out, maybe you can help me. Explain it to me, I mean. And feel free to have breakfast with me tomorrow. You might find my friends a little less backstabbing than yours.”
She gestures toward the door, where the twins are waiting with the blindfold. They’ve heard the entire exchange.
“Get her safely downstairs. We don’t want the bogeyman to get her. And then get back up here. We have a date.”
“Is he driving?”
“Who else?”
Becca pulls her braided hair into a knot on the top of her head and blows out the candle, plunging us all into darkness. The audience is over.
I’m still standing there, staring, trying to figure out what in the world is happening, when the girls grab my arms and tie the blindfold tight around my head. The sudden loss of light and bearing makes my heart kick up again, but I’m prepared this time, don’t panic. They can’t hurt me. More, they don’t want to hurt me.
And they don’t. They walk me back down to my floor, take off the blindfold, and push me through the door. I stagger into my hall. The stairwell door closes.
The summons is over, and deep in my heart, a shift begins.
Becca Curtis was kind to me.
Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.