THE RULES
Ford is in the attics, practicing her usual “rah-rah Goode is all-girls for a reason” spiel for tomorrow’s board meeting, when she sees a flash out of the corner of her eye. She goes to the window. It takes her a moment to realize what she’s seen—Ash Carlisle emerging from the arboretum at a sprint.
Ford glances at her watch and frowns. What is her young charge up to? Skipping class, obviously, but why?
Ford gathers her iPad with her speech and heads down to her office. Melanie is seated at her desk with a cup of coffee in one hand and the Marchburg Free Press in the other. She smiles wide at her boss’s entry.
“Dean? You’re back early. All set for tomorrow?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Pull Ash Carlisle’s schedule for me, would you?”
“Ha—busted.”
“What?”
“Ash. Busted. She missed her tutorial with Dr. Medea this morning. He came in to check on her a bit ago, see if she was sick. I asked around and it seems there was an issue this morning at breakfast. Ash had a fight with one of the girls and ran off.”
“Why didn’t you come get me?”
“Because you needed to practice your presentation. And Dr. Medea just phoned to say Ash showed up after all. Late, but she’s there now. That man is handsome, Dean. Looks good in the morning, you know what I mean? Scruffy. And the way he wears those jeans—”
“Melanie!”
“What? He’s a hottie. Seemed rather disappointed you weren’t here, too. I think he likes you.”
Ford rolls her eyes. “When you’re finished trying to set me up with my staff, would you mind getting Ash in here? She and I need to have a chat. Don’t interrupt her tutorial, she can come when she’s finished.”
Ford fixes herself a cup of coffee and powers through some email while she waits. Soon enough, Ash Carlisle is standing in the doorway.
Ford’s sensitive nose can smell cigarettes.
She gestures to the chair in front of her desk. Ash slumps in the chair, her head hung low.
“Look at me,” Ford says.
Ash meets her eyes.
“Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Dean.”
“Oh? Then how about you tell me why you skipped class and went for a stroll in the arboretum instead of seeing Dr. Medea for your tutorial?”
Her face crumples. The story comes out in jagged waves. “They know. They know who my father is. How my parents died. They know I’m using a false name. I didn’t tell anybody, I swear it. But they found out. Vanessa found out. And she outed me in front of everyone. I was upset. I ran. Becca—”
She cuts herself off and Ford gently encourages her.
“Becca what?”
“She just, came and talked to me. Told me not to worry about it. She was...kind.”
“Good. Becca Curtis is a leader in this school and a good ally for you.”
“I don’t want allies. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. And I don’t have a home to go to. I miss... I miss my mother.” Her voice breaks and Ford can see she’s fighting back the sobs.
Ford moves around the desk so they can sit face-to-face.
“Oh, Ash. Poor little duck. The world is asking too much of you. No teenage girl should have to go through losing her parents the way you did. I understand how hard this is, I truly do. But your teachers have reported you’re doing well in your studies. I notice a number of the girls copying your style. You have friends here. You’ve been fitting in.”
“It’s not exactly the same, Dean. No offense, but I’d trade it all to get my mum back.”
“I’m sure you would. I certainly don’t blame you. I’m sure you’re missing your piano training. The structure you must have had at home. I’m interviewing a new teacher tomorrow. Perhaps you’d like to meet her, as well?”
“No. I am finished with piano. It was something my parents wanted, not me.”
“Talent isn’t something to squander, Ash.”
“I’m not squandering it. I’m just more interested in computers now.”
Ford senses the anger rising but Ash shocks her when she continues.
“I saw it happen, you know. Have you ever seen anyone die? Watched as the light disappears from their eyes?” Ash’s voice has taken on an eerie quality, and Ford feels goose bumps run across her flesh. “I couldn’t look away from that spark dimming, growing distant until it was gone entirely. I dream about it every night, my mother’s face as the life drained away, her eyes going blank.”
“We need to talk about getting you some counseling, Ash.” Ford’s voice is soft, comforting. She needs to take better care of her young charge. She should have known this would be too much. She’s been pushing her too hard.
But the tears stop abruptly. Ash sits up ramrod straight, wipes a hand over her face.
“No, we don’t.”
“You’ve suffered a trauma. It’s incumbent upon me to get you some help so you aren’t scarred by this forever. You can learn some coping mechanisms so you don’t relive the moment over and over. It sounds to me like you have PTSD—”
“I said no. I won’t do it. I’m fine. I was frustrated by Vanessa’s attack this morning, caught off guard, but I am fine. I can handle this.”
The note of steel in her voice is alarming, but more so the absence of all feelings. She’s turned off her emotions quicker than flipping a light switch.
They sit in silence while Ford assesses her young student. She can’t force her. But she can keep a closer eye on her.
“All right. No counseling.”
“Thank you.”
“That said, as difficult a moment as this is for you, Ash, I can’t have you disrupting the school. Cutting will not be tolerated. You’ve got five points now. Instead of Saturday school, I want you here, in my office, every day at 4:00 p.m. for after-school detention. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Dean Westhaven.” The soft voice is back.
“And hand over the cigarettes. And don’t even think of lying to me, Ash, I can smell them on you.”
“I don’t have any more, Dean. That was my last one.”
She meets Ford’s eyes again, this time defiant. Ford doesn’t know what to make of these personality swings, from soft, pliant girl child to steely, cold woman. She did not pick up on this young woman’s darkness when she interviewed her. She knows now this was a mistake. Ash Carlisle bears watching.
“Four tomorrow, Ash. Bring your homework.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ignoring Ford’s wince, Ash lopes from the room.