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“Anyone who has not already, please proceed to the Kenneth L. Montague auditorium for the First Day Assembly.”
I was shaken from my dream very abruptly when a voice I didn’t expect came over a PA system I didn’t know existed.
Why hadn’t my alarm gone off? I inspected it, to find that I’d set it for 6:00 p.m., not a.m.
Without thinking, I threw on some jeans and grabbed my bright yellow staff T-shirt from my last year at the Jax Beach Surf Competition. I flip-flopped out the door thirty seconds later with only my key in hand.
It took me fifteen minutes of running around like a rat in a maze before I found the auditorium. I pulled on each of the doors, but they were all locked. I looked around for anyone, but I was completely alone. Left with no other option, I knocked.
The door opened suddenly, and a youngish man let me in. “Freshman?”
“Oh, no, I’m a senior. But I’m new.”
“Try to be on time from now on.” He was stern but not unkind. He glanced at my clothes. “And at the end of the assembly, please put on your uniform.”
A shock of humiliation ran through me. I looked at the sea of navy-blue, white and khaki uniformed students in the seats. “Sorry, I’m coming from public school, I’ve never had—”
He nodded politely, though a touch dismissively, as I drifted into my annoying habit of overexplaining. I stopped, and he told me there was a seat down in front. To get to it, I’d have to walk—duck—past everyone.
I got there as quietly as possible and ignored the stares I could feel on me. Once seated, I stared straight up at the stage where I was only just noticing that there was a woman speaking.
She was reminding the students of the rules. Mostly everyone had no doubt heard the spiel as many times as I’d read it over the summer. I cringed when she got to the part about wearing uniforms every day to every function but Saturday and Sunday and social events. Weekends were mostly our own. We were allowed out from 9:00 a.m. until 10:00 p.m. on Saturdays, and from noon till 7:00 p.m. on Sundays. There were shuttles that would go back and forth from town to Manderley.
“… and absolutely no sexual relations of any kind anywhere on school property,” the speaker said, a tad optimistically, and adjusted her papers. There was a snicker in the audience that she must have heard but ignored. “And now I’m inviting Professor Andrews up to the stage. Thank you for your continued attention.” She took a seat at the back of the stage with several other teacher-looking people.
I clapped once, but the rest of the auditorium stayed silent. I shrank in my seat.
Professor Andrews turned out to be the man who’d let me in. He walked to the podium looking a little frazzled.
“Okay, well, I think Eloise, er, Headmaster Jenkins, pardon me, did a pretty good job of welcoming everyone, and reviewing the rules with you, so I won’t be getting into any of that.” He took his glasses from the neck of his shirt and put them on. “I’m sure most of you, at least many of you for whom this is not your first year, have already heard about Rebecca Normandy.”
There was a slight rustling in the audience, but an immediate halt in the whispering.
“In the interest of providing correct information to all of you at once, and keeping the school from crippling rumors, I’ll tell you what we know. Since May fourteenth, Rebecca Normandy has been missing. It’s not clear what happened, only that she was here one moment and gone the next. If anyone hears anything from her, sees her, or is in any kind of contact with Miss Normandy, you must tell someone.”
I listened carefully, and then felt my stomach plummet through my seat.
Rebecca Normandy was Becca, the old roommate. Hers was the “slot that opened up” at Manderley.
“This is a very small school, and I’m sure that everyone here has been affected by the event. Because of that, I hope you all know that Dr. Morgan—” he gestured behind him to one of the seated women who was small and older and looked quite nice “—will have her door open at any time and will be offering counseling. I advise everyone who wants to or needs to, to make an appointment with Dr. Morgan. It can’t hurt. And now, Dana Veers would like to say a few words on behalf of Miss Normandy’s parents.”
He stepped aside, and was quickly replaced by Dana. She peered out at the audience through her narrow eyes.
“So, we all know Becca is missing, but way too many people are just assuming she’s dead. Anyone who can should write to her on Facebook and beg her to come back. Because I am sure she is out there, and probably checking it. If there is any way that she might come home, we have to make her want to. Her parents and the police have pretty much given up hope.” She looked sick. “But I haven’t, and I hope the rest of you haven’t.” She glanced down to the front row.
Then, abruptly, she thanked us for our attention and went back to her seat.
I was horrified at how I’d acted the day before. Dana’s old roommate was missing. They had probably been friends.
Professor Andrews replaced her behind the stand. “Now Dr. Morgan has a few words she’d like to say, and then we’ll release you to go to your first classes. Dr. Morgan?”
The tiny woman shuffled up to take his place, pulling the microphone down to match her height.
“Hello, everyone.” She had a nasally English accent, and reminded me a little of the fairy godmother in Cinderella. “I know this is a very difficult time for each and every one of you, no matter how well you know Miss Normandy, or in what capacity. What you must remember is that you are all in this together. You are all going through something as one, unified group.” She grasped the air and made a fist, as though collecting all of our leashes. “If you need someone to talk to, you could simply look left or right, and find someone who knows what you’re going through.” She smiled tenderly. “Why don’t you do that now? Just look to the person sitting next to you, and tell them you’re here for them. Go ahead.”
There was a small murmur of reluctant participation, and some giggling. I looked to my left and saw the back of a girl’s head, and to my right to see a boy slouching in his seat and leaning his face on his fingers.
I faced forward.
“Good.” Dr. Morgan clasped her hands together. “Now take the hand of the person sitting next to you. Everyone, please?” She looked down at the front row, and with a surge I realized she was looking at me. Or … the boy next to me. “Mr. Holloway? You of all people …” She said the last part away from the microphone, but trailed off when the boy held out his hand for me to take. I put my hand in his.
As soon as we touched, it felt like an electrical current ran through me. I remembered the touch of the boy on the stairs the night before and wondered if this was him. I glanced sideways, not wanting to make it obvious that I was looking at him.
Dr. Morgan went on. “Now shut your eyes. And put yourself in the place that makes you the happiest.” She was silent a few seconds, and shushed the people who laughed. “Wonderful. Now take a deep breath, and think to yourself, I will get through this. I will get through this. I will get through this. Deep breath in … and now out.”
I was afraid my hand was clammy. Was I holding too hard? Did I seem eager?
“Good,” said Dr. Morgan.
At her word, the boy let go of my hand as though it had burned him.
“Remember that everyone around you understands, and that you are absolutely more than welcome to come visit with me. Over the next two weeks, I will be meeting with each one of you. We will discuss your plans for college, and anything else you might need to get off your chest. Thank you all for listening so carefully. Welcome back to Manderley, and if you’re just starting, then welcome to your new home.”
She smiled kindly, and went back to her seat as I and everyone else filled the room with the spattering of polite applause.
I was locked in my own head. There had been one spot at Manderley, and I’d gotten it. I was Rebecca’s old roommate’s new roommate, and the whole school was hoping she would come back at any second.
The boy next to me gave me a nod and then stood to leave.
Everything came together with a horrible lurch in my stomach. He was the one I’d run into on the stairs last night. Not only that, but the reason he was familiar was because he was the one pictured with Becca.
That startlingly handsome boy had been her boyfriend.
chapter 4 becca
ELEVEN O’CLOCK CAME. BECCA HAD ON A SHORT black pencil skirt and a low white tank top.
“I’m so glad you decided to come,” Becca said to Dana, as she sprayed her Givenchy perfume where it mattered: neck, wrists and boobs.
“Me, too.”
“Here, before everyone else drinks it all.” Becca took a swig of tequila and handed the bottle to Dana.
“Oh, no—”
“Oh, come on, please!”
Dana took a deep breath and then took a sip. Becca tipped the bottle a little higher and Dana gave a shriek as it filled her mouth and spilled onto her cheeks.
Becca laughed and handed her roommate some tissues.
They emerged from their room to find that every girl on the hall had put on their best outfit and stood waiting to be led. Madison and Julia were standing with big purses filled with cups and balls slung over their shoulders. Becca had her own bag, filled with all the liquor she had brought with her to Manderley.
“You really think we won’t get caught?” one of the girls asked.
“Oh, God no, we’re not getting caught.” She waved away the very idea. “Come on, stop worrying. You only live once, so live like it’s your last night. Okay? Let’s go.” She smiled at all of them. “Lead the way,” she said to Julia.
They walked down some side stairs and through an emergency exit that apparently didn’t set off any alarms anywhere.
“Where are we going?” Becca heard someone ask from behind her.
“The boathouse,” Julia answered, wielding a blue LED flashlight. “No one’s ever down there at night, and it’s out of view of all the teachers’ rooms. It’s the perfect place. I can’t believe we never did this before.”
They got down to the bottom of the stairs and to a small beach. There was some sand, but mostly a lot of rocks. In all, it looked like what you’d find at the bottom of a cartoon cliff.
Walking up to the boathouse, Julia pushed open a screen door, then a storm door. The light was already on and exposed a small house filled with dust and boating equipment. She wondered if she’d ever have to learn to use any of this stuff. Hopefully not.
“This place is disgusting,” Becca noted, not helping matters.
Some people were already there, sitting around on the floor. One of them, Ricky, she thought his name was, was leaning on the speakers she’d told him to bring. She’d seen them in his room and “pretty-pleased” him into bringing them.
“Here.” She handed him her iPod. “Put this on. It’s the first playlist on there.”
People trickled in for the next fifteen minutes. Becca got the guys to help her put together a makeshift beer pong table. She took the Ziploc bag full of Ping-Pong balls and set them next to the case of beer and bottles she’d managed to stuff into her suitcases. The stolen cups were piled, and her plastic shot glasses set out next to the water bottles she’d had Dana fill with soda for chasers.
Soon the room was filled with laughing, talking, singing and squealing. As everyone got drunker and the room grew warmer, Becca felt more and more like herself. This was who she liked to be. She loved a chaotic atmosphere she could lose herself in. When everyone was drunk, no one was watching her too closely or looking for mistakes. If she said something she shouldn’t, she could blame it on the drinks. Not like in real life, when the world was quiet and everyone could see and hear perfectly.
“Yeah, I’m rooming with some girl named Dana.” Becca was shouting over the music to Ricky.
“Where is she?”
“Right over there,” she pointed. “Don’t you know her?”
“No, I’ve seen her around, but …”
“Dana!” Becca shouted her name across the room. Dana looked up, and then crossed the room to her. Becca took her hand. “This is my roommate!”
“Damn,” said Ricky, looking between them, “you girls are so fucking hot.”
Two other guys walked up. One of them swallowed his drink quickly. “Are you two gonna make out?”
Dana looked shocked.
“What, are you scared?” Becca asked with a laugh.
“What? No, I just—”
Becca looked to the group of guys suddenly surrounding them. “You dare me?”
All of them said yes, nodding.
“But—” Dana started, but was cut off by Becca, who had just planted a kiss on her.
Becca pulled away, laughing. The guys were all laughing and clapping at them.
“Oh, shit, she really did it!” One of the guys threw an arm around Becca. He let go of her and held a hand out to Dana. “I’m Barry.”
Becca slapped his hand. “This is her third year here, the fact that you don’t know her yet means you don’t get to introduce yourself.”
She looked at him playfully, and led Dana away.
“That guy was so annoying, wasn’t he?” she said to Dana. “Barry? He totally tried to hit on me earlier. I’d ignore him.”
It was a lie. But that didn’t matter. It wasn’t Dana’s time to get looked at. Becca was the new girl. Not her.
“Let’s have another drink,” said Becca. She took Dana’s hand and led her to the alcohol table.
When they got there, a tall boy was already pouring two shots.
“Make it four.” Becca sidled up to him and saw that he was not just tall, but attractive, too. Blond, light brown eyes—and a good smile. He looked like he’d play baseball and was always nice to his mom.
“You the new girl?” he asked, and then turned to Dana. “Hey, what’s up, Dana?”
“Yes,” Becca answered quickly, before Dana could say anything. “I am the new girl. I’m glad you know Dana, no one else seems to. What’s your name?”
“Johnny.” He smiled and looked down at the shots he was now pouring for them. “Of course I know Dana. She’s that girl that sat next to me in Algebra last year.” He mouthed hot at Becca, and then smiled at Dana.
Becca was about to say something about how little anyone else seemed interested in Dana when another boy walked up. He was about the same height as Johnny, but an utter contrast. His skin was tan, like he’d spent the summer working outside and maybe had some Italian or something in him. His hair was black and a little messy, and his eyes were light blue. There was something in them that intrigued her. He looked … she tried to think of the word to describe him, and landed on sly.
“Hey.” He nodded curtly at her, then turned his last words to Johnny. “Pour me one.”
Immediately intrigued by this person who ignored her, she said, “I’m Becca.”
“Here, Max.” Johnny handed him a shot. They all clinked their glasses together, swallowed the burning liquid and then pounded back chasers.
“Becca,” Max said, finally acknowledging her. “Hey.”
“So, where’d you move here from?” asked Johnny, leaning back on the table.
“Chicago.” Becca cast a side-glance at Max, who was now in conversation with Dana about how awful some teacher had been.
“Chicago? That’s pretty cool. I’ve never been there. Why’d you transfer here?”
Chatty, wasn’t he? “My parents can’t stand me and hope someone else can.” That was the simple answer.
He laughed. “I bet that’s what a lot of people here feel like.”
“Come on,” Becca said suddenly to Dana. Her conversation with Max was going too well. And Becca was the one that wanted attention from him. She smiled. “Let’s go pick some other music to put on, huh?”
Half an hour later, Becca had been flirted with by another group of guys and had her self-esteem restored. Now she was talking to that guy Cam and looking for a way out of the conversation. She spotted a girl staring at them. As soon as Becca caught her, the girl looked away.
“That girl,” she said to Cam, and pointed. “Is that your girlfriend?”
A small smile and a tinge of pink appeared on his face. “No, that’s Blake.”
“But you like her.”
He laughed it off. “What? That’s crazy, I didn’t … She’s not … She wouldn’t like me. She’s gorgeous.” His eyes were on Blake, but she had turned to talk to someone next to her.
“She likes you, I can tell.”
“No …” he said, but something in his tone asked for an elaboration.
“She was just looking over here at you, and looking totally jealous that I was talking to you.” It was obvious, and it’s not like she wanted Cam’s attention for herself, so she might as well tell him.
“Really?” Cam looked doubtful.
Becca rolled her eyes. “Blake!”
“No, don’t—”
The girl looked up, surprised to see who was calling her name.
“Come here!” Becca motioned.
Blake glanced at Cam, who looked like he wanted to run but was too paralyzed with fear to do so. She walked over to them.
“I’m Becca. You know Cam?”
She nodded and smiled at him sheepishly. “Yes. Hi, Cam.”
“Hi.”
Ugh. “Yes okay, so you guys totally like each other. So,” she said, and shrugged, “talk or whatever,” and then she wandered off.
A little while later, Johnny sat down next to Becca and asked if she was having fun. This close, and with a little more light on him than before, she could see that he was cute. Or maybe that was just that last shot sinking in.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” She felt Dana’s eyes on her. She was jealous that Johnny was all about talking to Becca. And Becca couldn’t help but rub it in. She tossed her hair and looked charmingly at him. “So tell me about you, Johnny.”
“Well, what do you want to know?”
“Becca!”
She turned from Johnny to see Madison beckoning her over with a flapping hand.
“What?”
“Come outside with us!”
“Sorry,” she said to Johnny. She saw that her roommate was now talking to Max.
Careful, Dana dear, you don’t want to mess with Becca and what she wants.
“Come on, you!” She pulled Dana away. “You will be social from now on. I accept nothing less. I can’t believe you don’t know anyone at your own school.”
Dana smiled apologetically at Max.
As soon as they were outside, she untangled her arm from Dana’s and sat down on the sand with Blake (who was positively beaming), Madison and Julia. Everyone was clearly less worried about being quiet than they had been at first, and were laughing and talking without filter.
“So, Becca,” Blake started, “who do you think is hot?”
All the girls laughed. Becca simply smiled back. “I’m not telling.”
Of course not. She needed to be told who everyone else wanted first.
“Oh, come on,” Julia cooed. “Who? Is it Johnny?”
She started to shake her head when Madison cooed.
“Ooh, he’s so sweet. He’d be, like, the best boyfriend.”
“Max is pretty attractive, too,” Becca said.
“Well, obviously.” Julia rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that, but he’s not even worth it.”
“Why not?”
“Everyone has had a crush on him at some point,” Madison elaborated. “But he’s just …”
“Unattainable?” Becca filled in the blank. That’s who she’d have to go for, then. Too bad he’d already exhibited little to no interest in her.
“Exactly.” Blake nodded. “I do want to warn you though, Becca.” Blake leaned in a little bit. “The girls at this school will be crazed with jealousy if you get together with Max.”
So she couldn’t act like that was her plan…. Becca shrugged. “Maybe he’s gay and that’s why he doesn’t date.”
Everyone laughed again, but then made it very clear that no one thought that was the case.
Madison, who was clearly seeing the world in double, leaned toward Becca. “No, but seriously. Seriously. Max is so hot. But you and Johnny would be so cute together!”
“I don’t know, Max is okay,” she said, playing it cool. He was much more than okay. And that’s why she had to have him. But she couldn’t seem too interested—not to anyone.
“What?” Everyone squealed in unison.
Madison’s jaw dropped. “I’ll be right back.” She darted inside.
“What’s she doing?” Becca asked.
“Probably puking,” Julia said simply. “Okay, but so you’re not into Johnny. I don’t know, I mean—”
The boathouse screen door flew open and Madison stumbled out, dragging Max behind her.
“I got Max!”
Julia and Blake burst into laughter.
“Oh, my God! I can’t believe you did that!” said Julia.
Becca stood cautiously and raked a hand through her hair. “Are you even drunk?”
“Not as drunk as you.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Madison slung an arm over each of their shoulders. A struggle for her because she was probably about five feet, Becca was five-nine, and Max had to be about six-two.
“Guys, I have a secret.” Madison was trying to whisper but barely succeeding. Julia and Blake were listening intently, ready to laugh at any second. “Max. Becca thinks you might be gay.”
He raised his eyebrows and grinned, exposing straight white teeth. “That so?”
Becca smiled. “I was hypothesizing, since it was said that apparently you never date.”
He nodded and looked away from her.
“Sh-sh-shh. Also,” Madison said, reeling her audience back in. “She doesn’t think you’re that unattractive. Or … that you’re not attractive. Or … wait …”
He looked back to her, appearing amused.
“I didn’t mean you weren’t attractive. I just meant—”
“It’s okay. I don’t think you’re all that attractive, either.”
He was obviously kidding, but Becca didn’t think it was funny at all. She scoffed, trying to mask her embarrassment. Three other people had heard him say it. They might report that to other people, who would then think he wasn’t kidding. She was going to have to make him want her.
Immediately.
“Well, aren’t you sharp?” She looked him straight in the eyes.
“We should let you two get to know each other.” Blake stood and pulled up Julia. Madison nodded vigorously and led the way back into the boathouse.
They were alone. She smiled at him and walked toward the waves that were breaking quietly on the shore. She turned to crook a finger at him. “Come on.”
He followed her. She stepped into the water.
“Cold?” he asked.
Becca didn’t look back before answering. “How scared are you?”
He chuckled, and a moment later he’d rolled up his jeans and stood next to her. The water wrapped itself around their ankles, and he sucked air in through his teeth.
“Yup. It’s cold.”
“Wimp.”
They were silent together for a moment, looking out at the black water and sky. It all ran together, with no horizon.
“This is seriously the worst beach.”
“Are you always so unhappy with your surroundings?”
She glared at him. “No, I’m not unhappy with them. I’m just saying. It’s hardly a beach. It’s just sand and rocks that happen to be next to water.”
Max stepped backward and sat down on the sand, away from where the water was breaking.
She followed him.
She leaned back like a pinup girl, and was quiet for a moment. “Why doesn’t anyone here drink?”
“What’re you talking about, there’s a bunch of people in there drinking as we speak.”
“Yeah, but at my old school, there were parties all the time.”
“Public school?”
“Yep.”
“Where can you have parties ‘all the time,’ doesn’t everyone live with their parents?”
“Yeah, but there was this guy Vince that always had people over. He was like nineteen and lived by himself.”