She Was the Quiet One Page 16

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “What was what?”

  “Bel Enright. Why couldn’t she just talk to you here?”

  “Oh. She’s freaking out about her term paper,” he said casually, taking a bite of a brownie. “You know how it is—finals week. She asked for an extension till after break.”

  His voice sounded natural, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Did you give it to her?” Sarah asked.

  “Huh?”

  “The extension. Did you give her the extension?”

  “Oh. No. Then I’d have to do it for everyone, right?”

  She had the definite feeling that he was lying. But there was nothing more she could do or say to be sure, at least not here and now in the dining hall. The kids finished their brownies, and they went home.

  * * *

  At seven-thirty, the doorbell rang. It was Rose Enright, showing up for an extra-help session that Sarah had completely forgotten about. Heath volunteered to give the kids their bath so Sarah could tutor Rose in the kitchen.

  “Sorry, I don’t have tea or cookies,” Sarah said to Rose, as they sat down at the kitchen table. “I have to confess, I forgot about our appointment.”

  “That’s okay,” Rose said, though Sarah could tell she was disappointed. “I know how busy you are. Thanks for meeting with me.”

  “The good news is, judging by your problem sets, you’re in terrific shape for the final,” Sarah said.

  “I hope so. I don’t always feel that way.”

  Rose opened her textbook. Sarah could hear the water running and the kids giggling in the hall bathroom. Heath said something to them that elicited a squeal, but his voice was muffled, and Sarah couldn’t make out the words. It tore at her heart to listen to him, in there with the kids, like everything was normal.

  Rose asked a question about square roots of negative numbers, but Sarah had a hard time focusing, and gave the wrong answer, which fortunately, Rose caught.

  “You seem distracted,” Rose said. “How are you? Is everything okay?”

  Dear, sweet Rose, worrying about Sarah, when it ought to be the other way around. She couldn’t let her personal problems get in the way of doing her duty toward this girl.

  “No, how are you?” Sarah said. “I’m sorry I haven’t checked in on you recently. Things have been crazy since the slipper thing, but that’s no excuse. I apologize. This must’ve been harder on you than anyone—witnessing the attack, losing your roommate.”

  “Yeah, it has been rough. Not just the attack. The lawsuit, too. My grandmother’s getting sued because of what Bel did, and she’s mad at me for telling on Bel to the Disciplinary Committee.”

  “I don’t get it. Bel’s actions caused the problem. Once she did what she did, you had no choice but to tell the truth about it. Or else, you could get expelled.”

  “Yeah, tell that to my grandma.”

  “Do you want me to? I could talk to her, and explain what the handbook says.”

  “Honestly, it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Grandma’s on Bel’s side. I’m used to it. My mom really favored Bel. She makes herself seem helpless, then they help her. Like with the slipper thing. Grandma believes Bel had a bad reaction to the pain medication, so nothing is Bel’s fault.”

  “Do you believe that, Rose?”

  “Not really. Do you?”

  “I wasn’t there. But you’ve always said Bel has poor judgment. It’s possible she went along willingly, and the drugs were an excuse, after the fact.”

  “That’s what I think. So, why did the Committee go easy on her? She’s my sister, I know I’m supposed to take her side. But Bel does what Bel wants, and she gets away with it. No matter who gets hurt.”

  Rose gave Sarah a searching look when she said that. Did she know something about Heath and Bel, about their relationship? The subtext was there in the air between them, but it would be an enormous risk to bring it into the open. Sarah couldn’t ask a student about a possible affair between her husband and another student without violating all sorts of boundaries. Yet, if her worst fears were true, Heath was committing a much greater abuse than Sarah would be simply by asking Rose a difficult question.

  “Is Bel doing anything else that might … cause hurt?” Sarah asked. “To herself, to someone else? Is someone hurting her?”

  Rose looked down at her hands and blushed.

  “You can tell me,” Sarah said. “No matter what it is. I’ll figure out what to do.”

  There was a long pause. The water had stopped running in the hall bath, and the kitchen was dead quiet as Rose visibly struggled with what to say. If Heath was listening, he would be able to hear their conversation. Just then, Harper came running into the kitchen, stark naked, dripping wet, followed by Max, barking like crazy. Heath was a step behind, carrying Scottie wrapped up in a towel.

  “Get back here, you little demon,” Heath said, chasing Harper around the table as she squealed with laughter.

  Taking in the family scene, Rose got to her feet abruptly, a pained look on her face.

  “I should go,” she said. “I came at a bad time.”

  “No, stay, it’s fine,” Sarah said.

  “Really, I should go study. Thanks for the help, Mrs. Donovan,” Rose said, and ran out the door.

  * * *

  Sarah awoke in darkness, sensing she was alone. She rolled over, and patted the empty space on Heath’s side of the bed. The red numbers on the clock read two-thirty. Do you know where your husband is tonight?

  She stuck her feet in her slippers and tiptoed into the hallway, worried about waking the dog, who’d bark and wake the kids. But Max was already up. He loped toward her, nails clicking on the hardwood floors, and thrust his wet nose into her hand.

  “Hi, buddy. Where’s Daddy?” she whispered, petting him.

  There were no lights on anywhere in the apartment. She checked the bathroom and the kitchen anyway, praying Heath was here somewhere, sitting in the dark. But he wasn’t. She went to the front hall and flipped on the light. His parka was hanging on the hook near the front door, and his Sorels were in the shoe tray. Wherever he’d gone, he hadn’t left the dorm, not in this weather, with no coat and no boots. He was still in the building. Heath—the love of her life, the father of her children—roaming around a girls’ dormitory in the middle of the night. Why would he do that?

  “Lie down,” she said to Max, pointing at the dog bed next to the shoe tray.

  The dog obeyed, whimpering as he turned around and settled in. Sarah felt the same way.

  She turned off the light and went to sit on the edge of her bed. Should she go looking for him? That would require leaving the kids alone, but presumably only for ten or fifteen minutes, until she found Heath. But found him where? Doing what? The thing she feared—ugh, did she want to know the truth? Years ago, when Heath could have had any girl, he chose Sarah. She’d always felt loved by him. She’d never known him to pursue another woman. Woman? Girl. But how could that be? He just wouldn’t do that, and if he would, then nothing was how it appeared. She couldn’t imagine her life if Heath was involved with Bel Enright. The world would make no sense.

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he heard a noise, and went to check on it.

  She heard his key in the lock, dove under the covers and pretended to be asleep. He went into the bathroom first. She heard the water running. A few minutes later, he came to bed. He smelled of soap. She had to ask where he’d been. This wasn’t just any night. It was the night Bel Enright had come up to Heath to ask to speak to him alone. It was the night that everyone in the dining hall turned to watch them walk out together, as if there was already suspicion surrounding those two. If Sarah didn’t ask, this would eat at her.

  She rolled over and looked at him, but it was too dark to see his face well. Otherwise, she might have been able to look in his eyes and know.

  “Hey,” she said, in a false-hoarse voice, to make it sound as if she’d just woken up. “Where
were you?”

  “Just now? In the bathroom,” he said.

  That was true, and yet it wasn’t. The cleverness of the answer worried her.

  “No, before. I woke up, and you were gone. You weren’t in the apartment.”

  He paused. She could almost hear him thinking, there in the dark.

  “I heard a noise, and went to check it out,” he said. “But it was nothing. Go to sleep, hon.”

  Heath rolled over. Within minutes, his breathing became even, and he was deep in sleep. But Sarah lay awake for a long time, knowing she was being lied to, wondering what she could possibly do about it. She hated herself for feeling paralyzed. But she was starting to hate Heath—and Bel, too—more, for making her feel like that.

  28

  After their strange conversation in the lit mag office, Zach Cuddy didn’t simply message Rose. He started to hang out with her, regularly. This thrilled Rose to no end, since she’d been crushing on Zach all year. He’d wait for her after bio class, and walk with her wherever she was going. They’d study together in the library, or grab coffee at the Arts Café. He even held doors open for her when they walked. People began to assume they were dating. Rose wished that were true. Zach was one of the top students in their grade, good-looking and charming. The girls in Moreland were obsessed with guys on the football and hockey teams, but Rose thought those boys were Neanderthals. Give her a man like Zach Cuddy—refined and gentlemanly, and not too macho to scribble lines of poetry or draw cartoons in the margins of his notebook.

  Zach’s attentions had the added benefit of improving Rose’s social standing. Before Zach, she felt like an outcast because of the blowback from the slipper attack. But when she started hanging out with a cute guy, all of a sudden, girls who’d been cool toward her warmed up noticeably. Having a boyfriend was a status thing, apparently. Of course, Zach wasn’t her boyfriend. He only wanted to be friends. But she didn’t tell people that.

  On the Monday night of finals week, Rose and Emma were in the Moreland common room studying French, when Rose’s phone buzzed with a text.

  “It’s Zach,” she said. “He wants me to meet him in the library. I should probably go. The bio exam is before the French exam, so it takes priority.”

  Emma raised an eyebrow. “I think what you mean is, Zach Cuddy takes priority over boring old me.”

  Rose laughed.

  “Word to the wise. Be careful,” Emma said.

  “We’re not doing that, not yet.”

  “I didn’t mean sex. I meant, you know, watch out.”

  “Watch out for what?”

  “Well … Doesn’t it seem … odd … how Zach is so into you, all of a sudden?”

  It took a second for Emma’s meaning to sink in.

  “You don’t think he actually likes me, do you?” Rose said with an accusing tone.

  “I didn’t say that. But Zach can be a smooth operator, more than you’d expect. Don’t forget, he hooked up with your sister.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Like, I’m sloppy seconds or something. Or, no, wait a minute. You think he’s still into her. That he’s using me to get to her.”

  “I don’t know that for sure. I do know he followed Bel around obsessively after they hooked up in September. And he may still be following her.”

  “You’re wrong. That was nothing, and it’s over.”

  “You sound mad, Rose.”

  “I am mad. I thought friends were supposed to support each other. Way to build me up, Emma.”

  “I’m only trying to protect you. I apologize if I offended you. That was not my intention.”

  Rose slammed her French book closed. “I’m going to the library.”

  “Suit yourself. I need to work on my English paper anyway.”

  Rose walked to the library through steadily falling snow. The path was deserted, but she was relieved to be alone, or at least to be away from Emma. What a killjoy. Emma was just jealous that Rose had a guy interested in her, so she wanted to undermine their relationship. Well, it wouldn’t work. Rose caught fat flakes on her mitten and lifted them to her tongue, trying to banish the bad feelings. But the snow tasted of cold, bitter air, and the campus felt desolate, with the wind sweeping across the plaza, and the lights of the library disappearing in the white gusts.

  Zach was waiting for her near the periodicals. She saw him through the window as she hurried up the stairs. He smiled when he saw her coming, and held up a key.

  “I nabbed us one of the private study rooms,” he said.

  Rose had heard of kids hooking up in those rooms, though you had to be brazen, since the doors had big glass windows. What the hell, Rose could be brazen. She was tired of being the good girl, the quiet one, the one people felt sorry for. How dare Emma imply that Zach would never be interested in her for herself. Zach hadn’t even mentioned Bel since their meeting in the lit mag office, which was weeks ago now.

  The study room was a windowless cubicle on the third floor, with a Formica table, a lamp and two swivel chairs. Zach opened the door and held it for her. It felt like a date. She wished she’d worn something cuter than leggings and a sweatshirt. She draped her wet parka over the back of her chair. They spread out their textbooks and lab notes on the table, and sat down side by side.

  “Listen, before we get started, I have to ask you something,” Zach said.

  She leaned toward him. His eyes were very blue behind his glasses. “What is it?”

  “You’re not gonna believe this. Tonight, at dinner, I overheard Bel and Donovan arrange an assignation.”

  This was about Bel! He’d brought her here to talk about her twin after all. Her cheeks burned. She wanted to slap him.

  “Don’t talk to me about her. I don’t give a shit what Bel does,” Rose said.

  It was true. Her wounded pride overwhelmed any concern for her twin.

  “How can you say that? She’s your sister.”

  “Zach, enough. We do bio, or I’m leaving.”

  “No, wait a minute. You need to hear this. Tonight, at dinner, I saw them walk out of the dining hall together. It was so blatant that I followed them. They were near the coatracks, arranging to meet in the Moreland laundry room at two o’clock in the morning. I mean, two a.m. in the basement—that’s for sex, obviously. This is the guy who’s sitting in judgment on the rest of us? Who might kick me out? He’s exploiting her. He ought to be in jail.”

  Hold up. Maybe this wasn’t about Bel after all. Maybe it was about Zach’s own disciplinary issues.

  “Why are you telling me this, Zach?” Rose asked. “Is this about Bel? Or about your Snapchat problem?”

  He gave her a measuring look.

  “It’s about my case, definitely. If I can prove that something’s going on between those two, I’ll have leverage over Donovan, who runs the Disciplinary Committee. That’s why I need a picture.”

  “A picture? You mean, a photo?”

  “Yes, I said that before. A picture of the two of them—doing whatever. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  “You’re talking about blackmailing a teacher. I can’t get mixed up in that.”

  “You wouldn’t be involved in the blackmail part. I’m really just asking you to go down to the basement and check on your sister. I’d do it myself, but I’d have to leave my dorm after curfew, sneak across campus, and break into a girls’ dorm. I’d end up expelled, which is what I’m trying to avoid.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “Why not? If somebody sees you, you say you couldn’t sleep and you decided to do laundry. You can’t get in trouble for that. You’re allowed to walk around your own dorm.”

  “Why is this worth the risk for me?”

  “Do you want me to get expelled?”

  “Of course not. Do you want me to get expelled?”

  “It’s not gonna happen because I would never tell that you took the picture. But if saving my ass isn’t enough motivation for you, think about your sister. If Bel is really having an a
ffair with a married teacher, don’t you want to know, so you can help her? I get that you two are on the outs. But, come on.”

  Rose sighed. She was sick and tired of Bel making her life complicated. Yet, he was right. Bel was still her sister, and her only real family.

  “If Bel’s meeting Donovan in the laundry room at two o’clock in the morning, yeah, I’d be concerned. But I don’t believe that’s true. You must’ve misheard.”

  “It is true, and I didn’t mishear. Could you just go check?”

  “Look, I’ll think about it, but no promises. Don’t bring it up again, or it’s a definite no. Can we study, please?”

  They studied for an hour, then Rose had to head back to Moreland for an appointment with Mrs. Donovan, the timing of which couldn’t have been worse. Why hadn’t she made up some excuse to cancel? Rose rang the doorbell of the Moreland faculty apartment, and listened as cheerful sounds of the dog and the kids floated out to her. How was she going to look Mrs. Donovan in the eye after what Zach told her? Or make small talk with Mr. Donovan? But it was too late to run. The door swung open, and Mrs. Donovan welcomed her into their happy domestic scene. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled. The kids ran around naked, about to get their baths, their toys scattered everywhere. This was Rose’s dream of what a family should be, and now it seemed like it might be a sham.

  At the kitchen table, Rose could tell that Mrs. Donovan was upset about something. When the conversation turned to the slipper attack, and then to Bel, it became apparent what. Mrs. Donovan basically came out and asked Rose what was going on between Bel and her husband. Okay, her words were guarded, but that was clearly what she meant. Rose wanted to say what she knew. And she might have, if Mr. Donovan hadn’t come into the kitchen right then. It was so upsetting to see him at that moment that Rose had to make an excuse to leave. That creep.

  Rose’s disgust decided something for her. She would go down to the basement tonight to see if Zach was right. Her sister’s well-being was at stake, as well as the happiness of her favorite teacher. She wouldn’t take a picture, or help Zach in his blackmail scheme. The point was to do the right thing. If Mr. Donovan was preying on her sister, and hurting his wonderful wife—who was like a second mom to Rose—then she’d find a way to make him stop.