“Please, call me,” she said before shoving her suitcase off the bed. It landed with a thump. I had no idea how she was going to handle that thing on a ferry ride and through an airport. It was almost as big as her.
“You sure you can carry that?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yep,” she grunted as she used her weight to flip it over. “It has wheels.” She pulled up the handle with ease and started rolling towards the door.
“Be safe, please,” I said. She stopped suddenly, whirled around, and ran in my direction. I stood and we wrapped our arms around each other, holding on tightly. “I love you, best friend.” I felt a lump rising in my throat. I knew it was ridiculous. It was just a week, but it was the first time since Hallow’s Eve that we would be apart.
“I love you, too. So much.” She gave me one final squeeze before heading back to her suitcase. “Seriously. Call me. And have fun with your boyfriend.” She practically sang the word “boyfriend” and winked at me before opening the door. I over-exaggerated my eye roll before she rolled her suitcase into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
I plopped back down on my bed and stared at the ceiling for only a moment before I decided it was too quiet. Ava and Daliah had already left to head back home for the break, and the silence was so loud it was ringing in my ears. I picked up my phone and dialed Miles. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, are you busy?” I asked.
“Nope. My roommates just left so I’m pretty much just staring at the ceiling,” he sighed.
“Same. It’s too quiet.”
“Do you want to come over?” he asked. “I rented a few movies from the library. You can pick which one to watch.”
“Yes, please. I’ll be over in a few.” I started to pull the phone away from my ear to hang up when I heard Miles nearly yell.
“Wait!” he called. I put the phone back up to my ear. “I’ll just come get you. I don’t want you to walk alone.” Ever since that night, Miles had been overprotective. He walked me to all of my classes, with the exception of the ones I had with Lillian, since he knew Lillian would accompany me. If I wanted to grab a snack from the café, he made sure he was there waiting for me. We barely spent an hour away from each other in four weeks if you didn’t count bedtimes and classes. He started looking after Lillian, too. We basically became the three musketeers. I was worried I would feel suffocated or would get sick of him or he would get sick of me or that Lillian would get angry that he was around all the time, but it had the opposite effect. Lillian and Miles were already becoming close friends and she loved the way he looked after me. I did, too. He knew I could fend for myself, but he never wanted me to feel afraid again.
However, I knew he could not always be at my side to make me feel comfortable. “I think I’ll walk alone this time,” I said. The silence on the other end let me know he was uneasy with the idea. “Listen, it has to happen eventually. I can’t always have you and Lillian as bodyguards.” I laughed and heard him laugh on the other end.
“Okay. If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure. Plus, Headmistress Craw kept guards in most of the hallways. I’ll be fine,” I said partially to reassure him and partially to reassure myself. “I’ll see you in five minutes.” I hung up the phone and grabbed my blue, oversized sweater that was hanging on the end of my bed and wrapped it around myself. The temperature dropped significantly the past few weeks. It was chilly 43 degrees today.
I walked down the halls slowly, trying to be aware of my surroundings, but not obsessed with looking over my shoulder. It was a delicate balance. The first week after the incident I was jumpy, to say the least. Every little noise scared me, and I woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares of a dark hooded figure every single night for 12 days straight. I hated it. It made me feel weak and vulnerable. Lillian was nervous, too, but it hadn’t had the same effect on her. It was taking me longer to recover from it all.
However, after those 12 days were over my attitude changed. The nightmares slowed and no longer came every night. I still looked over my shoulders, but the paranoia was slowing down, too. Instead, I was learning to appreciate my surroundings while being acutely aware of them. I saw beauty in the castle I had never seen before. I noticed people. I smiled at girls in my hall and struck up conversations with witches in my classes I had never taken the time to speak to before. I was coming out of my shell a little, and it was a surprisingly glorious feeling. I was still somewhat shy and quiet. I loved that about myself, but I was changing in ways I loved, too.
The halls were silent as I glided through them. Most students went out of town for the break, but I did pass a few witches walking alone in the halls. Not everyone had wonderful families to return to. So, Miles and I wouldn’t be completely alone on campus this week. I passed two first year students in Miles’ hall and they both turned to whisper to each other as they passed me. Most people didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking about me. The first two weeks I was the talk of the school, along with everyone else who was involved. Heads turned every single time we walked into a room and whispers soon followed. That was another reason I started talking to more people. If they were going to talk about me, I wanted them to know the real me. Not the me that their friends painted as they gossiped about the latest island scandal. Ava had been right, though. People didn’t have much else to do on this island besides talk. And that’s exactly what they did.
Lillian, Miles, Professor Rose, Headmistress Craw, and I were painted as heroes in most of the stories, while Professor Howard and Frances were cast as villains. But every now and then I would hear a story about how I was also helping Professor Howard. Some people didn’t find the original story interesting enough. Near death experiences must not have entertained them for long so they made up details. Like I had been involved with Professor Howard the same way Frances had. They pitted Frances and I against each other in these tales, as if we were fighting over him. Ridiculous. Thankfully, not many people believed that account. Even the first year students seemed to know it made no sense.
A part of me felt sad for Frances when I heard the talk around school. Not a single story had any remorse or understanding for her, not even the made-up ones. People didn’t realize she had been a victim in her own way. They liked forgetting the part where she tried to save me and only mentioned that she was sleeping with a professor and had become a Follower, which I wasn’t even sure was true anymore. Frances was still enrolled at school, but I hadn’t seen her since she visited me in the hospital ward.
The night after I woke up, she came to talk to me. She apologized over and over, saying she knew that didn’t make it right, but that she still had to say it. I’d never seen her that way. She was completely vulnerable, unafraid to show her regret. Lillian had been there, too, and she apologized to her, as well.
“I don't expect forgiveness,” she said to the two of us. “I don’t deserve it. I let Professor Howard take over every piece of me. I was not strong enough.” She explained that she had a lot of issues to sort through on her own and that she was trying to be a better person. She even told us she planned to learn more about the Divinity before surrendering her whole life to some force she barely knew anything about. The rumors never mentioned this side of Frances. I couldn’t blame most people, though. Frances had practically dubbed herself as a villain before any of this even happened. People were basing this off the facade Frances put on in front of them all these years. They only knew her as the girl that snarled at them in the halls for no apparent reason.
Even though she hadn’t asked for our forgiveness, we both gave it, though Lillian more begrudgingly. Not just for her sake, but for our own. Living the rest of our lives with a grudge seemed unpleasant. So, we forgave her and told her we would be there to help her along the way if she needed us. I knew Frances had kindness somewhere in her heart. She just needed to stop thinking that was a weakness.
I’d heard Frances was on a strict probation. She wasn’t allowed to attend classes in p
erson until Headmistress Craw said otherwise, and she had been moved out of her room to a private dorm in a small wing of the castle that housed troubled students. Counseling was available 24/7 there and her classes were online. If she stayed on the right track, she would be able to slowly return to regular classes, but she would remain under strict probation for the remainder of her years at North End. This included curfews, random check ins from the Headmistress and guards, and separate housing in the small, monitored wing of the school. Eventually, she would be able to leave this whole mess behind her though. We only had two and a half years until graduation. Then we would all be free to go anywhere and do anything we pleased. As much as I was looking forward to that time, I imagined Frances was even more excited.
I pushed open Miles’ door without knocking and ran straight for him, jumping in his arms and wrapping legs around his waist. I pushed my lips against his, hard, and tangled his hair in my hands. He kissed me back lightly, but something was off. His lips were tight and hesitant. I pulled away and looked at his face. It was stone. I released my legs from his waist and hopped down to my feet.
“What’s wrong?” I asked and wondered when my heart would stop dropping to my stomach every time the smallest thing seemed off.
“Well…” Miles gaped at an opened envelope in his hand and stayed silent. This wasn’t something small. No. If it was something that could be easily fixed, then Miles would have explained it right away. Instead he stayed quiet, his eyes fixed on the envelope.
“What is that?” I asked, fighting against the urge to rip it from his hands and look at it myself. He slowly held it up in front of my face. It was very wrinkled, like he had crumpled it up in his hand and tried to straighten it out again. Miles’ name and the school’s address were etched in the center, but there was no return address.
A sick feeling began turning in my stomach. I somehow knew who it was from, but I could not stop myself from asking again. “What is that?” My voice was devoid of any emotion.
“It’s a letter,” Miles answered. “From my mom.”
About The Author
Amanda Turner
A Morehead State University graduate from Hagerhill, KY, AMANDA JADE TURNER plays a middle school English teacher by day, and moonlights as a rock star by night. When she’s not molding young minds or making crowds swoon, she enjoys rewatching The Office on repeat, writing YA novels, and playing with her two dogs: Wilco and Lola.
North End: The Black Forest is her first novel.
North End: The Black Forest Page 19
