by C. R. Jane
I’m biting a hangnail, convinced just asking someone to wake up isn't how it works.
But at once, her eyes flutter open, and I gasp with relief. I step closer.
“It’s not too late,” Finn blurts out strangely.
“Give her the drink.” Professor London hands him the cup and the two of them prop up Mercy, gently forcing her to swallow whatever’s in the mug.
“Drink.”
They place the cup to her lips, and she gulps it down, feverishly. Her hands on the cup, the slurping sounding loud in the tense room.
Once they pull it out of her grasp, Professor London wipes a hand over her brow. “Sleep now.”
Mercy immediately curls in on herself in his bed, her eyes sliding shut. She’s breathing heavy in seconds while I watch in amazement.
“What’s going on?” I ask, and both men turn to me as if they’d forgotten I shared the room with them.
“She got a bit too drunk and probably has alcohol poisoning. I have a home remedy that helped,” Professor London murmurs while he takes the cup and towel away. Finn covers Mercy with the blankets, and that small gesture seems to show that he cares. Yet, I’ve seen him call her crazy, ridiculing her in front of others. His behavior seems to belong to someone else.
“Why would she drink so much alone in her room?” I ask.
Finn turns and sits on the edge of the bed, looking at me with a genuine look of sympathy. “Sometimes people just don’t know their limits.”
“Why did you come here to help her instead of the nurse’s station?” I grip my hips, suddenly confused by how things are handled so differently at this academy.
“I’m sure he didn’t want to get her expelled,” Professor London says as he strolls back into the room. “You can leave Mercy here as she’ll sleep for most of the day thanks to that drink. Tonight she should be back to normal.”
At first, I can’t get my legs to move. I keep staring at my friend, in shock over what just happened.
“Finn, come here for a moment.” Professor London tilts his head to the kitchen and both of them head in there.
I hear their hushed whispers, but I can’t make out the words. If Mercy did get drunk, then why are they being so secretive? Why did they act so strange when Finn mentioned she might not have been alone in her room?
I approach my friend and stroke her hand. “Get well. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I’m here for you.”
With Finn and Professor London still talking in whispers in the kitchen, their tones growing angrier, I slip out of the room. They’re leaving me out of their conversation, so I’m not sitting around to wait for their instructions. I’ll return later today to check on Mercy and take her back to her room.
I turn right down a dark corridor, but this doesn’t look familiar, so I backtrack and go left. It’s a maze down here of halls and doors. Was this where all the teachers lived while on campus?
My mind is abuzz with what happened to Mercy. She just doesn’t seem the type to get drunk in her room. And who was the guy I heard with her last night?
Chapter 14
“You sure you’re okay to go to class?” I ask, studying Mercy as she stands in my doorway in her school uniform. Aside from half her collar sitting upright around her neck and her skirt twisted back to front, she’s looking like her usual perky self.
She flicks her tight curls off her face and tucks them behind her ears, then she fiddles with her thick glasses as if she’s nervous. “I feel amazing after sleeping for a full day and night.” With her arms stretched into the air, she breaks into a yawn before fixing her skirt.
“So, want to talk about what happened?”
She snatches my wrist and drags me out of my room. I pull the door closed behind us at the last minute.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t really remember. One minute I was in my room, then the next I woke up in Professor London’s bed. And let’s just say I freaked out when I did.” She nudges me. “I mean the guy is a hottie, but my first thoughts flew to him having kidnapped me as his play thing. I’ll admit, I was a teeny wee bit sad when that wasn’t the case.”
I nudge her arm. “Ugh, you have a crush on him too? Every girl in this school seems to.” I feel like a hypocrite since I’m no different.
“Pretty much. But he did bring me breakfast in bed, and even if it was corn flakes and milk, it still counts as special.” She wiggles her eyebrows and laughs. “O.M.G. you should see your face. You don’t have a poker face at all.”
I roll my eyes and smile as we make our way toward the cafeteria. Over breakfast, I can’t stop the questions in my mind, and I lift my gaze to Mercy. “So, drinking alone in your room...”
She looks at me surprised, her nose wrinkling. “No. Why would I drink in my room when I can go out at a club to do that?”
“Professor London thought you had alcohol poisoning. If that wasn’t it, what happened?”
Mercy hesitates at first, and I can see the wheels spinning behind her gaze. She knows exactly what happened.
I stretch out a hand across the table and take hers in mine. “You can tell me anything. I’m just worried.” Did she suffer from seizures? When she doesn’t respond, I pry further. “You know I heard that guy’s voice in your room the other night.”
She blinks too fast and finally sighs. “I’m seeing someone, but I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure things were going to work out.” She slouches in her seat. “God, it feels amazing to tell someone.” Then she’s shoveling egg into her mouth as if her response suddenly answers everything. But to me it raises alarm bells.
“What was the last thing you remember doing with him before you passed out?”
Her eyes lift to me. “What’s with the interrogation?”
“Worried friend here. I found you passed out, remember?”
I shudder at the memory, comparing it to the one I have of finding my Dad sprawled out on the kitchen floor after I came home from school. He had fainted, and after doing a few tests, he discovered he had cancer. That same terror now tightens around my chest that Mercy is somehow just as sick. And like Dad, she’s pretending it’s nothing.
“We were making out and then I can’t remember anything else.”
I lean closer. “What if he drugged you, and then...” I can’t say the words.
She eyes me sarcastically. “He didn’t rape me, trust me. He’s sweet and wouldn’t harm me. I was tired so I probably fell asleep.”
“And he left you lying on the floor?”
She flinches at my words. “What are you talking about?”
I give a fast rendition of the state I found her in including the door being left ajar.
Her face pales, and I worry for her. She has no idea of what really happened that night.
“You sure you know this guy well enough? Does he go to Raven Academy? We can try to find a student directory and see if he’s in there.”
She pushes away from the table and grabs her bag, her expression fallen. “Let’s head to class. I’m done.”
Before I can respond, she’s walking away. I pick up my text book and rush after her. “Hey, wait up.”
We’re walking to class, the morning wind pushing through my hair. Mercy’s curls are bouncing over her shoulders.
“Are you okay?” I ask, knowing that I’m pestering her, but not able to stop myself.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps, and we walk the rest of the way in silence. My stomach hurts because I want to shake Mercy and make her speak to me. If she’s in danger, I’ll never forgive myself by doing nothing.
Once we reach the main building, her phone rings and she juggles her bag to reach the cell in her front pocket. She glances at the screen and quickly tosses it back into her bag before I can see who it is.
“Listen, you go to class. Tell Ms. Lenuta I’m not feeling well and that I went back home.” She turns to leave, and I grab her elbow, forcing her to turn.
“Who just called? Please tell m
e what’s going on. I can help you.”
She’s shaking her head. “You won’t understand, and I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone.” She rips her arm out of my grasp and runs over the lush green back towards our dorm.
I stand there feeling empty and gutted. What’s going on with her?
Students traipse past me, heading to class, but I can’t stop looking in the direction Mercy ran. Sometimes people don’t ask for help when they need it most, so I push into a jog after her, needing to see what is going on...what trouble she’s gotten herself into. If whoever she’s dating left her unconscious, then she’s in danger.
Once I slip into the dorm building, I hurry along the dark hallway, sticking close to the walls in case Mercy is near.
Voices are coming from up ahead, and I creep closer. When I pass my room, I drop my text book and sneak closer to Mercy’s around the next corner.
“I have to get to class,” Mercy pleads. “Maybe tonight. Stay in my room until then.”
I plaster my back to the wall, wanting to look out to see who she’s talking to, but afraid that they will see me.
Someone groans. “Babe, I already told you this. You’re either in all the way with me or not at all.” The man’s voice is gruff and husky, like he’s smoked for too many years.
“I know, and I am in. You just need to give me more time.”
“Fuck that.”
I hear a thump against the wall as if the guy just hit it.
My pulse spikes, and I peer out from around the corner. Mercy’s back is pinned to the wall, her face petrified. A guy covered in tats and a shaved head towers over her, his hands constricting her arms. “I’m not waiting. We leave tonight.”
Chatter comes from farther behind me and the guy looks up. I jerk back behind the corner, praying the guy with Mercy didn’t see me.
My heart is pounding and sweat is dripping down my back. He’s forcing her to leave? The guy looks terrifying and he’s obviously hurting her. This is her boyfriend. I have a sneaking suspicion this is the guy that landed her here in the first place.
Is he out of jail and coming back for her? No wonder Mercy is so jumpy and won’t tell me anything. He must have threatened her.
When no one comes down the hallway, I glance back toward Mercy’s room, but the corridor is empty. Her door is open, and I don’t wait but rush forward. Is he in there hurting her now?
I step into the doorway and find Mercy crouched near the open window, huddled in a ball and crying.
There’s no sign of the guy and I rush forward, scanning the room for the asshole. “Mercy.”
Her head jolts up and she quickly tries to wipe away the tears from her red eyes.
I say nothing but drag her into my arms and hold her as she bawls against my shoulder.
“I’m so stupid,” she mumbles as she pushes away from me. “I thought he loved me.” Her face falls into her hands and she begins to cry harder. I rub her back and push the strands out of her face.
“Guys are jerks.”
When she finally settles down, we sit down on the end of her bed.
“He turned up on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago, saying he was on the run and that he needed me to help him. He said he couldn’t get me out of his thoughts and that’s why he came to me first.” She falls silent and wipes the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I believed him and let him stay in my room. He kept disappearing though, and when I asked him where he was going, he would say he was finding a place for us to start fresh. I’m so dumb, Adi.”
She turns to me, tears cramming in her hopeful eyes. “He was so tender and sweet to me at first, he never pushed himself on me. We would just talk all night about the life we were going to have together. It was incredible. Then a couple of nights ago he started acting different, forceful. Saying I had to leave with him. He told me that he loves me and that he would never let me leave his side. One night I thought I saw his eyes turn black. It was terrifying. I freaked out and asked him if he was high. He hit me. And that’s where my memory starts to fade.”
Mercy is trembling, and I take her hand in mine.
“Holy shit. We need to tell the principal and report him to the cops.”
“No,” she squeaks. “He’ll be so angry.”
“He’s already past the angry stage.”
“Adi, I don’t--”
A sudden, ear-piercing scream shatters the silence around us and we both flinch. Jumping to our feet, we scramble out into the hallway, our gazes swinging left and right. Farther up the corridor there’s a student muffling her screams with a hand, the other pointing to someone’s room.
“Jess, what is it?” Mercy asks and wipes her eyes as we move closer.
We stare into the room, and it takes several seconds to make sense of what I’m seeing.
“Oh fuck!” Mercy clings to my side.
I can barely breath as I stare at the dead body on the floor, limbs twisted, a silent scream on her open mouth, eyes bulging wide. Blood pools around her body, the metallic scent hitting my nostrils.
Bile finds my throat and sickness rises through me so fast it spins the world around me.
“Bethanie!” I breathe.
Chapter 15
“Go back to class,” Principal Asher says to Mercy and me, his voice soft and distant as if he’s thinking hard about something. His tie sits at an angle around his neck, his usually perfect hair ruffled from the numerous times he’s run his hand through it, and wrinkles pull tight at the corners of his mouth. “We have a counselor on site, and she’ll make an appointment with you both.”
He avoids staring directly at us, but glances at something behind us then turns away.
“Will the cops arrive soon?” I ask.
He nods. “Of course, now head to class as this area is off limits to students indefinitely.”
Several office staff and teachers begin to crowd the hallway.
“Off you go.” He ushers us away with a wave, his voice suddenly abrupt and loud.
Mercy and I exchange uncertain glances and walk away from the crime scene. We’d spent the last hour giving the principal our testimonials on what we found. Principal Asher has questioned Mercy extensively about who she saw come and go from Bethanie’s room over the last few weeks. Mercy never mentioned her boyfriend.
“Thanks for not saying anything,” Mercy whispers once we leave behind the building.
I’d kept her secret because she begged me to, but I can’t help the guilty feelings that I’m starting to have that I’ve just become a conspiracy to murder.
I can’t afford to get in trouble here. My dad will lose the funding for his treatment, then he’ll… I swallow hard and panic clutches at my chest.
I keep picturing Bethanie’s open eyes and the blood… so much of it surrounded her. I didn’t look close enough to see how she died. I settle on it being a stabbing with that much blood loss. But does this mean that there’s a killer loose on campus? I didn’t know Bethanie well at all. Really, I had only shared dinner with her that one day. But I can’t help but wonder if there was anything I could have done to prevent this.
Death.
A girl just gone.
It’s all so final.
A heaviness sinks through me at how her family will drown in misery when they find out. And I think about my dad, about the many nights I cried myself to sleep as I imagined a life without him, and how I’d cope. Tears prick my eyes and I look down as I wipe them away.
“I feel horrible,” Mercy murmurs. “I never really talked to Bethanie. Just hellos and then I rushed past her. I’m such a horrible person.” With her head hung low, she sighs heavily. I wrap my arm around hers and we stroll through the grounds, both of us sniffling, my insides numb.
“Do you think he had something to do with it?” I finally tentatively ask because I can’t stop thinking about how he treated Mercy in the hallway and the fact that he left her unconscious in her room the other night.
But what would be his reason for kil
ling Bethanie? Had she seen something she shouldn’t have?
“He sells drugs, but he’s not a killer. And he doesn’t even know her,” Mercy says defensively.
“But how well do you know him?”
A tear slides out from the corner of her eye.
“He didn’t do this. Drop it, please.” She runs a finger under her teary eye, and I reluctantly drop the topic. But it’s there, pounding in my head. I can’t help but wonder. Her boyfriend had no problem hurting Mercy, and what if he took his rage out on Bethanie? What if next time he goes farther with Mercy?
“Stay in my room tonight with me,” I suggest.
She nods but doesn’t respond.
Once we reach class, we hand Mr. Dusk the note from the principal on why we’re late. With how empty I feel from seeing Bethanie dead, the usual uncomfortable sensation around him vanishes. Even Clarissa’s glares don’t distract me. We take the first empty seats we find and throw ourselves into the lesson.
The rest of the day moves at a snail’s pace. No teachers mention Bethanie, but the whispers of her death are already on students’ lips.
Mercy and I are standing outside her room. She opens the door and scans the room before entering, and I follow. “Why haven’t any of the staff said anything about Bethanie?”
“They’ll say something tomorrow I’m sure. Everyone’s in shock.”
Mercy is collecting her pajamas and stuffing them into a duffle bag along with a clean uniform and her toiletries. “Back at my old school, a guy was found dead at the back of the school. He had been beaten up by a gang who he owed money to. They told everyone right away, sent us all home in fact. I’m just surprised they haven’t done that here,” Mercy says absentmindedly.
“It is weird, but then again there’s so many things about this school I don’t understand.”
Back in my room, we jump onto the bed and I fold my legs under me. “Okay, we need to study for our pop quiz.” And I needed a distraction to push the images of Bethanie out of my thoughts.
Mercy rolls her eyes and tosses a pillow at me. I catch it and hurl it back into her face, then laugh. But the laugh sounds strange. It feels wrong to be happy.
