Game on.
The day was a brain burner of new classes, new teachers and new classmates, and of finding out the truth about just how much schoolwork she needed to do. She had Zelazny for history, which she’d thought would be a nightmare, but to her relief, aside from a brief hard stare when she first walked into his classroom, he treated her like everybody else.
Her next class was Isabelle’s English seminar, and as she walked in the first person she saw was Sylvain, leaning back on a desk, his long legs stretched out gracefully. He was talking to the boy beside him when she walked in, but she noticed that he stopped almost immediately and turned to watch her as she walked up to Isabelle.
‘Hi Allie.’ The headmistress smiled. ‘How’s your first day going?’
‘So far so good,’ Allie said, only lying a little.
‘Good.’ She handed Allie a course schedule. ‘We’re reading Robert Browning today. Are you at all familiar with his work?’
During her lunch break, Allie had read the Browning in her text book. ‘I’ve read “Life in a Love”,’ she said.
‘What do you think of it?’
Allie fidgeted. ‘It was all right.’
Isabelle tilted her head to one side, looking unimpressed. ‘Is that your full review?’
Allie hated poetry, but now seemed like a bad time to mention it. She leaned on the edge of a desk as she fumbled for the right words. ‘To be honest … it seemed a bit … you know, stalky.’
For a second the headmistress looked as if she was going to argue, but then she stopped herself and handed Allie the class syllabus. ‘Fair enough. Sit anywhere you like.’
The desks were arranged in a circle, which somehow made choosing one more difficult. After a moment’s hesitation, Allie picked a seat at random. When she sat down, she saw that Sylvain was still watching her. She raised her hand hesitantly, and he smiled at her before turning back to the boy beside him.
Isabelle stepped into the circle and leaned against an empty desk.
‘I hope everybody read some Browning last night. I’m curious to hear what you all thought. He had a unique style that rebelled against many of the accepted rules of poetry of the time, so I thought some of you might relate to his approach. I presume you’ve all had a chance to meet our new student, Allie. Allie, I don’t want to embarrass you, but would you please read the first few lines?’
Oh bugger.
Standing uncomfortably she held her book close to her face and cleared her throat.
‘Escape me?
Never
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth
While the one eludes must the other pursue.’
At Isabelle’s nod, Allie slipped gratefully back into her desk.
‘So, what is Browning saying here?’ The class regarded her in silence. Allie was fairly confident that she knew, but no way was she going to say anything right now.
‘It’s about obsession.’
Allie hadn’t seen Carter West come in, but he was sitting just a few desks away from her.
Isabelle nodded. ‘Care to elaborate?’
‘As long as they both exist on the same planet, he has to be with her,’ Carter said. ‘He’s in love with her, but it’s more than love. It’s everything. He thinks they were meant to be together but she doesn’t. So his life is spent trying to convince her.’
‘Interesting theory.’ Isabelle glanced at Allie. ‘Anyone else?’
Allie slid down in her seat.
‘Ismay,’ the headmistress said, turning to a familiar-looking brunette. ‘Can you read the next few lines?’
Allie chanced a sideways glance in the direction of Carter’s voice, and then looked away sharply. He was looking right at her.
‘What is it with the boys in this school?’ Allie and Jo were walking to the library. Classes had ended for the day and Jo had intercepted her on the way back to her room and suggested they study together.
‘What do you mean?’ Jo asked.
‘They stare,’ Allie said. ‘A lot.’
Jo smiled. ‘You’re pretty. And new. Boys stare at pretty, new girls.’
‘I’m not that pretty. Boys didn’t stare at me like that in London.’
‘I think you’re pretty,’ Jo said. ‘Maybe they just …’ she shrugged, ‘want you to notice them.’
They both giggled. Allie pretended to sag under the weight of her book bag. ‘I can’t believe how much work I need to do.’
Jo nodded. ‘They really bury us in the summer, because if you’re here for the summer term it’s because you’ve got, like, promise.’
‘Promise?’ Allie raised her eyebrows.
‘You know, potential.’ Jo shrugged. ‘Whatever. The school is sort of, I don’t know, divided up, I guess. Some come here because they’ve got lots of money. Some come here because their parents did. But some are here because they’re super-clever. They’re here most of the year, while the others get the summer off. I think we’re being groomed to rule the world or something.’
Allie marvelled at how she could say things like that and not sound pretentious.
‘That’s why I don’t mind being here in the summer.’ Jo pushed open the library door and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘We have the place to ourselves, and the people who are here at this time of year are the coolest.’
The voice in Allie’s head was damning: I’m not here because I’m super-clever.
As they walked into the library’s hush, she breathed in the rich mix of leather, old books, and lemony wood polish. The room stretched further than she could see through a forest of dark wooden bookshelves that reached to the ceiling fifteen feet above their heads. Each row had its own rolling ladder giving access to the highest shelves. The floor was covered with thick oriental rugs that captured the sound of their footsteps. Ancient, wrought-iron light fixtures that surely must have once held candles hung several feet below the ceiling on thick chains, so that the books on the top shelves were lost in the shadows. Heavy wooden tables topped with green-shaded lamps were surrounded by leather chairs; many were already occupied by students, dwarfed by the stacks of books piled around them.
Intimidated by the display of studiousness and its accoutrements, Allie tried to push back a wave of insecurity. She was already so far behind: how would she ever catch up? For the first time in a long time she cared about failing.
She followed Jo, who wound her way expertly to a table neatly placed to provide a good view of the main study area while managing to be slightly out of the sightline of the librarian’s desk. They stacked their books onto the table and settled into the big leather chairs. They were immersed in history when two leanly muscled arms wrapped around Jo from behind, pinning her to her seat. She gasped, and then giggled as a handsome blonde boy appeared near her shoulder, kissing her neck lightly.
‘Gabe, stop it! You haven’t met Allie yet. And you need to, because Allie is a goddess.’ Jo’s face glowed and Allie felt a twinge of envy chased by a brief surge of guilt for having felt it.
Gabe gave her a welcoming smile, his hazel eyes glittering in the lamplight. Reaching around Jo he held out a strong hand with square, neat fingernails. ‘Hello Allie. I’ve never met a goddess before.’
She smiled back and shook his hand. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’
Brushing a kiss on the top of Jo’s head he sat down across the table from her and pulled her notebook over so he could see it. ‘What are you two working on? Ah, history. Good to see you studying so diligently.’
Jo rolled her eyes at Allie. ‘Gabe’s a year ahead of us. Sometimes it makes him pompous.’
He laughed and swished the end of a pen lightly up her arm. ‘Not pompous. Just experienced.’
Jo giggled again as Gabe turned to Allie. ‘So you’re the famous Allie Sheridan everybody’s talking about.’
Allie was startled. ‘Everyon
e’s talking about me? Why would they talk about me?’
He smiled. ‘Relax. It’s just because you’re new. Fresh meat. Those of us who are here year round can start to feel a bit cut off from the rest of the world. So a new student in the summer is about as exciting as it gets. Plus there’s the whole Sylvain thing …’
His voice was ripe with suggestion as it trailed off, and he and Jo both smiled at her as if she’d done something wonderful.
‘Oh for God’s sake.’ Allie had heard enough of ‘the whole Sylvain thing’. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there isn’t a Sylvain thing.’
Jo leaned towards Gabe. ‘Allie’s in denial. I think they’re meant to be together.’
Allie glowered. ‘I’m not in denial.’
‘Either way,’ Gabe said smoothly, ‘everybody’s noticed that he’s interested in you. And we’re all intrigued.’
‘Why is it so intriguing?’
Gabe glanced at Jo. She gave a slight nod. ‘Sylvain is kind of … special. His parents are very important people – he’s from a very old family. And he’s kind of an interesting guy in his own right. Lots of girls over the years have tried to get his attention, but nobody’s ever really succeeded.’
Jo chimed in. ‘But then you came along and suddenly it’s like he has this huge crush.’
Allie felt pressured and she always hated that feeling. ‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint everyone, but I’m not sure I’m interested.’
Jo looked exasperated. ‘I think she’s into somebody else.’
Gabe raised his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a significant look.
‘Carter,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.
‘Oh no.’ Gabe leaned towards Allie intently. ‘Seriously. You can’t. Not West. He’s the single worst guy you could go for here.’
‘Thanks Gabe. I never knew you cared.’
Allie recognised the rich deep voice instantly, and froze in her seat, trying to figure out how to dissolve into the leather and never be seen again.
Gabe was undaunted. ‘Oh, get over it Carter. You know it’s the truth. You haven’t exactly made a name for yourself around here as a reliable, trustworthy boyfriend.’
Giving Allie an apologetic look, Jo stacked up her books briskly. ‘I was just about to dash to the common room for a break before dinner. Should we all go?’
She and Gabe stood up, but Allie was immobilised with embarrassment. Besides, leaving now would look cowardly.
She raised her chin slightly. ‘No thanks. I’m going to get through a bit more before I take a break.’
Over Carter’s shoulder Jo mouthed, ‘I’m sorry,’ at her, before walking towards the door with Gabe.
Carter sat down in the seat across from her while Allie pretended to write a note to herself in her history notebook. But her mind was spinning.
So he now thinks I’ve got this major crush on him. So what? Let him think it.
She counted two breaths in and out.
‘Hey,’ he said.
Looking up from her notebook she saw that he was leaning forward. His face was close – his dark eyes looking right into hers. She thought, inanely, that his lashes were really long, and his eyebrows straight and fine.
Somehow she kept her face expressionless but her burning cheeks surely betrayed her.
‘I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,’ he said. ‘I’m Carter West.’
‘I’m Allie Sheridan.’ She willed her voice to be steady and unembarrassed and for a change it cooperated. She held his gaze fearlessly. Or at least she hoped it came across as fearless.
‘I know,’ he said, settling himself comfortably in the chair. He smiled cynically and she instantly didn’t trust him. ‘We should talk.’
‘Should we?’ she said coolly. ‘What about?’
‘You.’
‘Terrific,’ Allie said. ‘Well, my favourite colour is blue and I love puppies. Your turn.’
‘Very funny,’ he said, looking like it wasn’t very funny.
‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘and I’m very funny. Sorry, I forgot to mention it earlier.’
He was beginning to look exasperated. ‘That’s really useful, thanks. But what I was wondering is, what are you doing at Cimmeria? It’s rather unusual for new students to join in the middle of summer term.’
Put off by his investigative tone, Allie leaned away from him and crossed her arms. He’d asked for the truth, but that was a lot of ammunition to give a stranger.
She twirled her pen between her fingers. ‘I won a contest?’
‘Funny,’ he said again, although his face said it wasn’t. ‘Seriously. Never be afraid to be honest – what brought you here really?’
So he wasn’t going to let go. Fine then.
She raised her chin and met his eyes directly. ‘I got arrested.’
He shrugged. ‘So?’
‘Three times.’
‘Oh.’
‘In one year.’
He gave a low whistle. ‘Right. But getting arrested doesn’t get you into Cimmeria. This isn’t a reform school. Why are you here?’
Stung, Allie could feel her temper rising but she fought it back. ‘To be honest, I have no idea. My parents told me that I was coming here, and a few days later here I was. They said it specialises in kids like me. Whatever that means.’
‘Interesting.’ He studied her curiously, as if she were a puzzling display in a museum cabinet.
She shot him a sharp look. ‘Why is it interesting?’
‘Troubled kids do come here, but not in the summer term. All the summer term students are in advanced studies.’
A flash of resentment shot through her and she glared at him.
Do I have ‘too stupid to be here’ tattooed on my forehead?
She stacked her books in angry piles. ‘I guess it’s impossible to consider the idea that I might be clever. And troubled.’ She spat the last word out. ‘Well, then I better get on with studying, right? I’ll have to really work hard to keep up with all you geniuses.’
‘Hey.’ He looked startled. ‘Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just trying to figure you out.’
And that was all it took. After Katie and Jules and Zelazny, her parents and the police, she’d had it. She shoved the books into her bag and spun around to face him.
‘Well don’t. OK? Don’t try to figure me out. Don’t try to analyse me. And, while you’re at it, stop insulting me. You see me in class and overhear a conversation and think you know me. But, believe me, you know nothing about me.’
She stormed out of the library and ran up the stairs.
… thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four steps …
She just made it to her room before the storm hit. The bag dropped from her nerveless fingers, and leaning back against the door she slid down to the floor. With her face buried in her hands she sobbed quietly. Why was she here? Everybody treated her like the village idiot who’d slipped in when the guard’s back was turned. She could feel her breath growing shallow and she fought back a panic attack, but the edges of her vision started to go black.
She counted her breaths, the boards on the wooden floor, the books on the shelves, and the panes of glass in the window until she felt herself regain control, and her sight began to return to normal.
When she felt better, she climbed to her feet. Opening the door, she checked to see if the hall was empty before hurrying down to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. As she smoothed her hair back, the door opened and Jules walked in. Her eyes took in Allie’s tear-stained cheeks, and a worried look flashed across her face.
‘Hi Allie. How are you settling in?’
Allie didn’t feel like faking it. And she didn’t feel like talking about it either. She just wanted to be somewhere else.
‘Everything’s great, Jules.’ Her words dripped sarcasm but she couldn’t help it. ‘Everybody’s being so nice. It’s all just … great.’
Before Jules could react, she opened the door and ran down the ha
ll.
She’d never felt more lonely in her life.
Allie awoke with a start, and sat up in the wooden chair. Her back was aching and the desk lamp was still on.
What time is it?
Her head foggy, she turned the alarm clock to face her. Two o’clock in the morning.
Must have fallen asleep at my desk.
She was sitting in front of the open window, a stack of papers spread out in front of her. After her meltdown she hadn’t been hungry, so she’d skipped dinner and stayed in her room to catch up on her reading.
The last thing she could remember was reading The Rules.
After finishing her homework, it had occurred to her that she’d never really read them, and she’d pulled the thick stack of paper out of the desk drawer. They were so strange and prescriptive that at first she couldn’t believe what she was reading.
Welcome Allie.
Cimmeria Academy is a unique place in which to learn, and we are very glad to have you here among us. The school has, for many years, operated according to rules set out long ago by its founders.
Follow these Rules closely, and your time here will be memorable and pleasant. Fail to follow these Rules, and your time at Cimmeria may be very brief indeed.
Cimmeria Academy Rules:
1. The day begins at 7 a.m. and ends no later than 11 p.m. Outside of those hours you must be in your dormitory.
2. The woods around the school can be dangerous; students are forbidden to enter them alone or after dark.
3. No student may leave the school grounds without permission.
4. The teachers’ wing is off-limits.
5. Students in certain advanced areas of study take part in Night School. Only a very few, select students are offered this opportunity; if you are not among them, you must not attempt to interfere with or observe Night School. Anyone attempting to do so will be expelled.
6. The identities of those involved in Night School are secret. Anyone who attempts to find out their identities will be punished.
7. ALL Night School activities are secret. Any member of Night School found to be divulging the details of those activities will be punished severely.
Suddenly she heard again the noise that must have awakened her. It was a kind of scrabbling on the roof. She switched off the lamp and moved the papers aside so that she could climb up on the desk and look out.
Night School Page 5
