She Was the Quiet One Page 11

  Then, why couldn’t she sleep?

  18

  Bel opened her eyes and saw Heath sitting in a chair beside her bed. She was in a private room in the infirmary. It was dingy and narrow, but cozy. A bar of light fell from the window and illuminated Heath’s perfect face. From the quality of that light, Bel guessed it was late afternoon. Had she missed the entire day of classes?

  “You’re awake,” Heath said, leaning forward in the chair.

  Bel nodded, which made her head pound. Her arms and legs were heavy with fatigue. When she moved even slightly, pain shot through her right knee. The pain sharpened her mind, bringing her memory back. Certain things, she saw clearly. Slipping and falling on the icy downhill yesterday. How Heath had cradled her in his arms, how she’d touched his face. Tessa coming along and discovering them, and Darcy threatening to tell the whole school. Whatever Bel did last night, she did to protect Heath. But what had she done? That memory was wrapped in cobwebs. Something bad, presumably, or Heath wouldn’t be here.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “That’s what I need to ask you,” he said. “Are you up for a conversation? How do you feel?”

  “I’m really tired, and I have an awful headache,” she said. “Oh, and my knee hurts like hell. Other than that, I’m fine.”

  He smiled at her indulgently. “All right. You’re so pale. Let me get you some water, and something to eat, first. Then, we’ll talk.”

  Heath left the room. Bel sat up against the pillows and ran her fingers through her hair. It felt greasy. She must look awful. Her throat was dry, and her breath smelled funky. Sitting up cleared her mind, and last night started coming back to her. Instead of going to Darcy’s room at midnight, as she’d been instructed, Bel took pain pills and fell asleep in the bottom bunk. She was alone when Darcy and Tessa came looking for her. (Emma had a fear of heights, and had taken a sleeping bag to the common room rather than sleep in the top bunk.) Darcy shook Bel awake and told her to get her ass in gear. She was helping them with their prank, like it or not. Rose and Skyler were the targets, because Bel had to extra-double-prove her loyalty now as punishment for being late, by going after her own twin. They yanked Bel out of bed, and—

  Heath walked back into the room, carrying a tray. He’d brought some Tylenol, a container of applesauce, a carton of chocolate milk, and a bottle of water. He put the tray on a wheeled table and moved it into place, so she could reach it.

  “The nurse said Tylenol is okay, but nothing stronger,” Heath said, looking down at her.

  Bel took the pills under his watchful eye, ate the applesauce and drank some chocolate milk. The infusion of sugar brought the color back to her cheeks. Or maybe it was Heath’s presence that did that. The room was quiet, and so still that she could count the motes of dust hanging in the air. This moment felt beautiful and surreal—just the two of them, alone in the mellow, old room. But the spell was bound to break. This was not a social call.

  He went back to his chair.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” he asked.

  “I did something wrong?” Bel asked, pushing the table aside.

  “Not exactly. Hold on, I need to ask you something sensitive,” Heath said, and got up to close the door.

  “You’re in the infirmary because you took too many pills last night, Bel,” he said, sitting back down and fixing her with a solemn gaze.

  “How many did I take?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No.”

  “There were eight in the bottle the doctor gave you. You were supposed to take one every four to six hours, but you took all eight at once, last night.”

  “No wonder I feel so tired.”

  His blue-green eyes were full of concern. “I’m worried about you. You basically overdosed. They had to make you throw up, and administer Narcan.”

  “Ick.”

  “Do you remember that?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Bel, did you take those pills by mistake? I need to know.”

  “What do you mean, ‘by mistake’?”

  “I mean, did you take too many on purpose? For whatever reason. You can tell me. I won’t judge you. The most important thing is to get you the help you need.”

  Heath wasn’t accusing her of taking the pills recreationally, Bel realized. He thought she’d tried to kill herself. What’s more, he seemed to actually care whether she had. Bel had a vague recollection of taking the pills. Darcy had told her to take something, so she wouldn’t have to face the crappy thing they were going to make her do, whatever it was. (And what the hell was it? She’d done something bad, she knew. Was she in trouble?) But the reality was, Bel took the pills for a different reason. She wanted to blot out the pain. Not the pain in her knee. The pain in her heart. Was that the same thing as suicide? She hadn’t really intended to die. She could tell Heath this. He would understand.

  “I didn’t exactly try to kill myself. Not straight up like that. I just wanted to—not be here. Not think, not feel, or remember. I wanted the pain to stop.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Heath said, and the words sounded like they came from deep in his heart.

  She loved talking to him like this, so intimately. It was like some strange fantasy, come to life. Bel felt fragile and shaky enough already, from the aftereffects of all those pain pills. Her longing for him was overwhelming, and she felt herself start to sink into self-pity. Why was her life so dark? Why did her parents have to die? Why did she get sent here, only to fall in love with a man she couldn’t have? Boys chased her, and she barely noticed. Heath was the only one she wanted.

  “I’m sorry to be so sad,” she said, her eyes welling. “I hope you’re not disappointed in me.”

  He flushed. Her tears got to him, she could tell. They had before, too—at the Arts Café, when he took her in his arms. Bel wasn’t crying on purpose. She truly felt hollow inside. But the sympathy in his eyes when she cried made her cry harder, in the hope that he’d hold her again.

  Heath leaned forward in his chair. “I’m going to tell you something very personal about myself. Nobody at Odell knows this, and it would be bad for me if they found out. You can’t tell anyone. Do you promise?”

  “I’ll never tell. You can trust me to keep a secret, any secret. I promise.”

  “I tried to kill myself, once. I did it with pills, just like you.”

  As his words sank in, Bel realized that the two of them were so much alike. Heath was her soul mate, really. She didn’t feel like a girl when she was with him. She felt like a woman—his equal. She could ask him anything now, and he would answer honestly.

  “Why?”

  “There was something I wanted, more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life,” Heath said. He met her eyes, speaking steadily and comfortably, as if telling her his darkest secret was the most natural thing in the world. “And just when it was in my grasp, I lost it. The worst part was, it was my own damn fault. I’d done something wrong, you see, and I got caught. Everybody turned on me. I can’t say they weren’t justified, but it was awful to feel so abandoned. Not just by the people I’d been working with. But my wife, her parents. Everybody blamed me. I couldn’t take the humiliation, to be honest. And the loss. See, I have this idea that I’m meant to do important things.”

  “Oh, you are. You are, I just know it,” she said breathlessly.

  “So, to fail like that, was extra difficult for me. I decided I’d rather end things. That was a mistake. Fortunately, my wife found me, and called an ambulance.”

  Heath looked away. He was so close, but she couldn’t comfort him the way she wanted to, with her fingertips, her lips against his skin. It was so unfair.

  “Thank you for telling me,” Bel said, her hands twitching to touch his beautiful face. She’d done that, just yesterday. She could still feel the warmth of his cheek under her fingers.

  “I told you that because I want you to know there’s hope,” he said. “That you
’re not alone. That things can get better. That one day, you’ll be happy again.”

  “I’m happy now. I’m happy being here with you. I’m happy that you trust me enough to tell me that.”

  He looked back at her, his eyes lingering on her face as the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.

  “If you’re happy, then why are you crying?” he asked.

  “Because I love you, and you don’t love me back,” she whispered.

  Heath was out of his chair in an instant, sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “I do love you,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “I care about you so much, Bel.”

  “No, but I love you, for real, Heath. Not like a teacher and a student. I want us to be lovers. I know that’s wrong to say.”

  She saw the look of pleasure, of gratification, in his eyes. But he shook his head. “I wish I could let you say it. But already, I think of you too much. You remind me of songs, of poems. ‘Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.’ Your beauty could bring down kings, Bel, but I can’t let myself fall. That’s why we can never be together,” he said.

  “Please don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. I’m married. I’m your teacher. You’re too young. All those reasons.”

  “Not because you don’t want to?”

  “I do want to, but I have other obligations. Like leading this school. It’s something I’ve been working toward for a long time. Deep down, I’m still the poor kid with my nose pressed up against the glass, dreaming of being on the inside. Maybe if I could run this place, I could finally banish that demon. I know you understand. You understand me so well.”

  He brushed at her tears with his fingers. His hands were shaking, she noticed—what did that mean? Glancing quickly at the open door, he leaned forward and touched his lips lingeringly to her forehead. Bel couldn’t believe this was happening. Was it real, or just a beautiful dream? It was real. She could feel his weight on the mattress, his warm breath on her skin. He kissed both her cheeks, then the tip of her nose. Her insides melted. He grazed her lips with just the merest taste of a kiss, before pulling back.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, moving back to his chair.

  “Yes. You should,” she said, smiling through her tears.

  “You can never tell anyone.”

  “Of course not. Never. I would never tell about anything we do,” she said.

  He got up and paced the narrow strip of floor, drawing deep breaths.

  “I need some air,” he said, pointing to the window. “Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Heath cracked the window, and cool air rushed in.

  “I have to ask you about a difficult subject,” he said. “The slipper attack. Last night. Do you remember?”

  Bel turned her face to the pillow. “Sort of. I’m not sure. Was it bad?”

  “Yeah, it was pretty bad. Darcy and Tessa stripped Skyler Stone’s clothes off and spanked her. You filmed it. Snapchatted it. Your phone has been confiscated. The school will have the phone examined, and if they can prove you shared that video, well, normally—”

  “I could get suspended?”

  “They’re looking to crack down. Suspended. Maybe even expelled.”

  Bel started to tremble. “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “I don’t want that to happen to you,” he said. She was bereft that he made it sound so impersonal. Like he would only be sad for her if she got kicked out. Not for himself.

  “You’d miss me, right?” she asked, the tears starting up again.

  “We’re not talking like that, okay? But I can protect you. I can help you get out of this, Bel, if you do what I say.”

  “I’d do anything you say.”

  “Pay careful attention. We’re convening the Disciplinary Committee soon. You’ll be called in and asked about the slipper attack. Here’s what you say.”

  Heath proceeded to script her entire statement for her. Bel was to claim she’d mistakenly taken too many pills, and that, as a result, the entire night was a blank. She mustn’t say anything against Darcy and Tessa because Heath didn’t want her getting blamed for any punishment they received. Her best course was to claim full and complete memory loss, and throw herself on the mercy of the Committee. She might have to agree to counseling, but that was nothing, and not a bad idea anyway, given how depressed she’d been.

  “Are we clear?” Heath said.

  “Yes. Thank you. I’ll say it just like you told me. But, what’s going to happen to Darcy and Tessa?” Bel asked.

  “Normally, they’d just be suspended, and get a notation on their disciplinary record. But Skyler Stone’s parents are threatening to sue the school. Darcy and Tessa may need to be sacrificed. They’ll probably be expelled.”

  “Expelled, my God,” Bel said, collapsing back against her pillows.

  “What’s the problem? They’re a terrible influence on you. They attacked your sister, and got you in serious trouble. You ought to hate them.”

  “I do hate them. But they’re my only friends.”

  Heath laughed. “Silly girl, no they’re not. You have me.”

  “I have you?” she asked wistfully.

  “Yes, you do. How many times do I have to say it?”

  Heath smiled, and laugh lines formed around his beautiful eyes.

  “I’m lucky, then,” Bel managed. She was mesmerized, and having trouble forming thoughts.

  “But you have to help me,” he said.

  “How? I’ll do anything.”

  He looked sober suddenly. “Just be good, Bel. That’s how you can help. So I’ll be strong enough to be good, too.”

  19

  Four days after the slipper attack, Bel was called before the Disciplinary Committee to explain herself. As she sat alone in the gloomy anteroom waiting for her interview, she felt almost calm. Heath had been appointed acting dean of students, which meant he would be the person running the disciplinary hearing. He’d pulled her aside after English class yesterday, explained how things would go, and went over one more time exactly what she should say. That’s why she didn’t feel afraid. This would be like taking a test for which she’d been given the answers in advance.

  As she watched, the door to the inner conference room started to open. Bel drew in a long breath, holding on to it like that could help her stay calm. It was daunting to think of sitting in the hot seat, facing a long table of disapproving faculty members, explaining how she’d taken an overdose of pills. It was an accident, she was supposed to say, a mistake. I was … tired, in pain, confused. I never meant to take those pills. I can’t remember anything that happened afterward. I don’t remember the attack, the Snapchat. I don’t know who I sent the video to. You can look at my phone. Please look at it—I have nothing to hide. But I can’t be much help. It’s as if none of this ever happened. I’m terribly ashamed to have been involved with something so sordid. It was a dreadful mistake to take those pills. I’m no longer friends with those girls. My mother died recently. I’ll be more careful with prescription drugs in the future. I would like to make amends. I wrote a letter of apology to the victim. Please forgive me. All I want is to move past this and contribute to the Odell community.

  What if they didn’t believe her? None of it was actually true, after all. She’d taken the pills accidentally on purpose because she knew something ugly was about to go down. When Darcy and Tessa came for her, Bel was too doped up to resist, but she’d planned it that way. She wanted to make it easier to do what they said. And she did remember. She remembered everything. She’d kept that to herself. Nobody knew, not even Heath. She hadn’t been entirely honest with him, but only because she cared so much what he thought of her. That was understandable, right?

  Today wasn’t about being honest, anyway. The point of her testimony was to make sure she could stay at Odell, so she could be close to Heath. Otherwise, Bel wouldn’t have given a shit whether she got expelled or not. She d
idn’t feel guilty or remorseful, either. Darcy and Tessa were the ones who’d planned the attack, and they were the ones who deserved to be punished. It was only fair. Bel had faith. She would follow the course Heath had laid out for her. He’d get her through this. He knew best.

  This must be him now, coming to collect her, to squeeze her hand supportively, to whisper that she shouldn’t worry as he led her to her chair.

  But it was Rose who stepped out of the conference room.

  Bel sprang to her feet. This was her first chance to speak to her sister face-to-face since the attack, though not for lack of trying. Rose had been avoiding her. Bel might not feel guilty, but she felt sad. She missed her sister. The worst thing about this stupid prank was that it had come between them.

  “Get away from me. The last thing I need now is you,” Rose said, her voice full of contempt. She tried to push past, but Bel blocked her way.

  “Wait,” Bel said. “I came to your room three times to explain what happened, and every time Skyler chased me away.”

  “That’s right. I told her to.”

  “You don’t get to just freeze me out. You have to let me explain. I’m your sister.”

  Rose snorted. “Like that counts for anything with you?”

  “It does. It means a lot.”

  “What about the part where I’m your sister? Shouldn’t that mean something, too? Like, don’t bring your sleazy friends to my room in the middle of the night to physically attack me?”

  “Rose, I was drugged out of my mind.”

  “If you want to fry your brain with that garbage, be my guest. But don’t use it to justify what you did to me.”

  “To you? It was Skyler they attacked.”

  “They? Like you weren’t even there? Are you really so unable to take responsibility for your actions, or is this some kind of ploy?”