“It’ll get easier.”
The girl nodded, but Sadie could see she wasn’t convinced. “Your mom’s in really good hands. This is an incredible hospital.”
“Do you think they can make her better? She was in another place before … a not so nice place … and it didn’t work. She was still sick, but Dr. Kent said they could help her here for free.”
Sadie saw the entrance to her mom’s hospital, all cold concrete and flat fluorescent lights. She blinked the image away, and her eye wandered across the grass to where two patients sat, sunning themselves on Adirondack chairs. They looked so peaceful, but still she didn’t want to lie. This girl didn’t need one more person giving her cheap, empty hope.
“My mom never did. But she wasn’t here, and this place seems different. Your mom is exactly where she needs to be.”
The girl smiled hesitantly, just as a new tear slid down her cheek. “Thanks.” She bit her lip and fumbled with the hem of her pink sweatshirt. “Will you wait with me until she comes out?”
Sadie smiled. “Sure.” The girl reached out and took her hand. It felt so tiny.
A door behind them opened.
“Cassandra?”
Sadie and the little girl both turned toward the voice. There was a woman standing with a nurse in the doorway, a wide smile on her face. Her brown hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail, and her cheeks were flushed with pink. She looked happy and alive.
The girl jumped up and ran to her, and she knelt down, enveloping her in a huge hug. The girl was crying again, but it felt different. It felt like relief.
Sadie stood up to give them some privacy, and as she walked away she heard the mother murmuring softly. “Mommy’s going to be okay now, Cassie. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She was standing at the porch railing, watching the mother and daughter as they walked through the garden, hand in hand, when Brett called to her from the doorway.
“Want to sit and talk for a bit?” She pointed back to the bench. “My feet are killing me in these heels.”
“Sure.” Sadie looked down at her new boots. She wiggled her toes and realized they were numb. “Mine too.”
“So are you doing okay? I know this is probably weird for you.”
Sadie took a deep breath. “I’m okay. It just brings back a lot of stuff I don’t really like to think about.” She looked sideways at Brett. “Why’d you bring me here?”
“We wanted to show you what we do — what we’re really about, beyond the ceremonies and the gifts and parties and everything else.” She gestured to the manicured grounds. “We fund projects. Help people. We make things better.”
“So this group — whoever you are — you all volunteer at this hospital?”
Brett paused for a moment, lifting her chin and gazing out over the gardens.
“Actually, we built it.”
Sadie sat back, stunned. Maybe she had misjudged them. The rituals were stupid — and any group who chose Thayer to be a member had some serious problems — but they were making a difference. They were using the power they had to help people. That couldn’t be all bad.
“So this is the group’s thing? Helping people through rehab?”
Brett shook her head. “The Sullas have lots of interests — ”
“The whats? I thought you called yourselves the Order of Optimus or something?”
Brett grinned. “Optimates.” She waved a hand. “It’s a really old name that means ‘Best Men.’ Within the group, we just call ourselves the Sullas — long story. Anyway, once you’re in, you’ll have access to a lot — money, resources, connections. Some people have a pet project they pursue, and the Dawning House was one of them.”
Sadie nodded. “So whose project was it?”
“Sorry, Sadie. Can’t tell you anything about the other members. But I can say he had personal reasons. His girlfriend from a long time ago had problems with this kind of thing. It messed him up, and he swore he would help other people with the same issues.”
For the first time, Sadie felt a twinge of excitement. She was being given the opportunity to be a part of something huge, a part of something that was helping make sure no one else ever went through what she did.
Brett stood up and carefully brushed off her dress. “Ready to go? The hard part’s over. Now we eat.”
An hour later they were lounging over sushi and champagne at a fancy restaurant in Georgetown. The waitress hadn’t even carded them — apparently carrying a $4,000 handbag meant nobody asked questions. The feeling was a little intoxicating, like she was invincible and could do whatever she wanted.
By the time they were landing back at Keating, the chopper blades beating loudly overhead, Sadie was completely drunk — on champagne, and on the overwhelming momentum of everything that was falling into place around her. At the same time, it all felt a little wild, like something had been set in motion that was too powerful for anyone to stop. But maybe that was just it — the power was running straight through her, and for the first time Sadie realized how much she liked that feeling.
Chapter 12
A week later, Thayer waltzed into the dining room looking even more smug than usual. She hadn’t said anything to Sadie about the canceled practice, or about anything Sadie had seen in D.C., but every once in a while she caught Thayer watching her, an odd expression on her face. Sadie was getting the feeling there might be more to Thayer than the standard-issue entitled heiress she seemed to play so well, but she still didn’t want anything to do with her.
That morning her cheeks were flushed, and she held a huge bouquet of roses cradled in one arm like the runner-up at a small-town beauty pageant. Her followers trailed behind her, screeching even louder than usual, jockeying for position and tossing their shiny hair in each other’s faces.
Before Sadie could ask, Jessica let out a groan. “Every effing year. Like anyone here gives a crap that Finn invited her to a fifteenth dance and gave her a forty-seventh present that his dad’s latest personal assistant-slash-mistress probably picked out anyway.”
“I don’t know,” Brett said. “I think it’s kind of sweet. At least he’s romantic.”
“Yeah well, easy to say when you have a date. When you don’t, this whole thing feels like a regularly scheduled kick in the face.” Jessica slumped down in her chair.
Sadie flashed her a sympathetic look before Thayer’s envoy closed in.
“Hey, laaadies,” she cooed. She thrust the flowers forward like a woman offering her baby up for baptism. “So pretty, right? Finn is such a sweetheart. I just can’t get him to stop spoiling me.” She slithered into one of the chairs as her sheep performed their usual standoff — each one trying to grab the closest seat while keeping up the constant stream of phony compliments they were always lobbing at each other. Their restraint was actually kind of impressive. Sadie was sure one day someone was going to throw an elbow and end up spraying blood all over the dining room floor.
“So,” Jessica said, with obvious sarcasm. “How. Did. He. Do it? We’re all just dying to know.”
Thayer’s blue eyes narrowed to slits. “I would be, if I were you.” She leaned back in her chair and tossed her hair over her shoulder, revealing a giant diamond earring. Reverential gasps echoed around the table. “I don’t really want to tell the whole story now, though. It’s so long, and I mean, it’s really not that exciting. Once you’ve had a boyfriend as long as I have, this kind of stuff just starts to feel” — she curled her lip and shrugged — “average.”
All around the table, faces fell. “Tell us! Tell us!” the chorus kicked in.
Thayer broke into a coy smile. “But then again, I guess it’s selfish of me to deny you single girls the chance to live vicariously.” She looked pointedly at Jessica, then launched into a story that spanned breakfast, the walk to chapel, lunch, dinner, and half of practice the next morning. By the time they all straggled into the locker room, Sadie could recount the name of the jeweler who had designed Thayer’s new di
amond earrings, the model of the limo Finn had used to deliver the gift, the name of Finn’s family’s private “suit guy,” and all twenty-seven of the sappy texts he had sent her, verbatim, since Friday morning.
In the shower, she let the hot water pound against her forehead, drowning out all the other girls’ voices as they carried over the tops of the stalls and mingled with clouds of steam. Afterward, she dressed and hurried out the door, calling to the other girls that she would wait for them on the bleachers. Brett tossed her a knowing look, and Jessica yelled, “Just want some fresh air, huh?”
Sadie ignored her, but as the door swung shut she heard her call out, “Tell Jeremy I said hi.”
The weather had turned in the last week, and the autumn air felt cool and crisp as she walked toward the bleachers. She pulled her jacket closer around her body and climbed a few rows up.
After that first night on the field, she had been sure she would hear from Jeremy. She had made excuses to run back to her room between classes to check her e-mail and carried her cell phone with her at all times, even though he didn’t even have her number. And every time she had checked and found nothing — no e-mails, no texts, not even a lame wall-post — she had hated herself just a little more.
Lately she had stopped hoping for contact, but she couldn’t help looking for him whenever she got the chance. She scanned the players on the field — all alike in their white mesh jerseys and forest green helmets — until she found number forty-two. Just finding him in the crowd was enough to make her pulse speed up. He was still there, within reach, and if he turned around she could imagine he just might be looking at her, too.
She heard steps on the bleachers above her and turned to see a man making his way down from the knot of alumni that always sat near the top. When Sadie had asked about them weeks earlier, Brett had just waved a hand and said they were boosters — “lacrosse types, you know?” Sadie hadn’t, but she hadn’t pushed it, either. She just figured they were having some serious trouble moving past their glory years. Most high schools had a few.
She turned back to the field and leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees. Forty-two was lost in a huddle now, so she settled in to wait.
“Sadie Marlowe, right?”
It was a deep voice — smooth, with the kind of aristocratic southern accent she had adopted in her head when she read Gone with the Wind. She looked over her shoulder. He was tall and tan, dressed in a slim-cut navy suit with no tie. He held out a hand.
“Teddy Cranston.”
She took it silently, too confused to formulate a proper response. Instead she just stared.
He had a square jaw, blue eyes, and blonde-streaked yacht club hair, the kind that looked like it was continuously being tousled by some phantom ocean breeze. He was the type of guy who would play the lead in a cheesy rom-com — he would be excruciatingly charming and witty, and she and her friends would make fun of everything he said.
“Mind if I join you?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but he was already folding himself into the seat next to her. They sat for a moment and gazed out across the field. She floundered for something to say.
“You’re Finn’s dad, right? You built this stadium.”
He laughed. “My family did. I’m just a Graff alum who really loves the Monarchs.” He held out his right hand, showing off two huge rings. One had a gleaming green stone with a yellow gold monogram, and the other looked like a class ring, with a shiny black stone rimmed with diamond chips. He pointed to the latter. “National Champs, 1988,” he said, puffing out his chest. “And you, if my intel is correct, are the new transfer.”
She relaxed. This made more sense. Booster talk. She mustered up a smile. “Yeah, from Portland.”
“So how do you like playing for Keating so far?”
“Oh, it’s been great. I’m just really excited for the season to start. And it’s an honor to play for Coach Fitz,” she parroted. Boosters always wanted to hear the same thing: Everything’s great! This is our year!
“Yes, she has done a lot for the program. Then again, Keating and Graff have always had stellar lacrosse teams.” He looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers so the emerald glinted in the sun. “Eighteen national championships in the past twenty-five years.” He looked at Sadie. “We have high hopes for you helping to continue that legacy.”
“Thanks.” She paused, floundering for a way to deflect the compliment. “I just hope I can compete. Lacrosse is a whole different world on the East Coast.”
“That’s true. But you girls have been working hard in the off-season, I’m sure.” He smiled and patted her knee, his hand lingering just long enough for her to feel the heat from his palm spreading across her thigh. He stood up.
“I just wanted to say hello. I make it my business to know everything about this lacrosse program, and you’re a part of that now.” He reached out his hand. “Welcome to the family — I’m sure you’ll do us proud.”
She shook his hand again, then watched as he climbed back up the bleachers, turning back just in time to see Jessica bounding up the bleachers toward her. She was two minutes into a rant about something Thayer had said in the locker room before Sadie finally shook herself back into focus.
“Hey, why would Teddy Cranston know who I am?” she interrupted. The look on Jessica’s face changed from annoyed to incredulous in an instant.
“Ooh, you met Teddy Cranston? Hot, right? In a weird, old-guy kinda way. He looks like a movie star. I cannot believe he and Finn came out of the same gene pool.” She craned her neck around and looked back up at him in the stands. “I mean, how did that happen?”
Sadie shrugged. “He just like, came down and introduced himself. He said he heard I transferred and wanted to say hi. It was weird.”
Jessica shook her head. “I’ve been here for two years and none of the Cranstons have ever even looked at me. Well except Finn, but, ew.” She shuddered. “Anyway, Teddy is always at games and stuff. I guess it’s not that strange that he would know who you are. It was a big deal when they announced that you were coming.” She looked sideways at Sadie. “Don’t act like you don’t know that.” She grinned and Sadie laughed.
“Whatever,” Sadie said. “And he can’t be that old,” she added. “What do you think, forty-five?”
“Maybe. He’s married though. Hands off, you little skank.”
Sadie’s jaw dropped and she shoved Jessica in the shoulder. “Oh my god, so not what I meant. Gross. He’s my dad’s age.”
Brett sat down and started carefully picking invisible lint off of her cable-knit sweater.
“Hey, Brett, what do you think about Teddy Cranston — would you do him? Sadie thinks he’s old.”
Brett’s shoulders tensed, and she turned and scowled at Jessica. “You know, you can be really immature sometimes, Jess.”
She turned back to face the field and Jessica made a face. “Hey, I wasn’t the one flirting with him, but whatevs,” Jessica said.
Brett raised an eyebrow at Sadie. “Teddy talked to you?”
She shrugged. “Just for a second.” Brett bit her lip, and there was something in her expression that Sadie couldn’t quite identify. Brett noticed Sadie watching her and arranged her features into a wide smile. “Well, I’m sure he just wanted to meet the new recruit.” She winked. “Everybody does.”
Jessica stood up and patted her stomach. “Let’s go. I’m effing starving.”
The Graff team was grouped around the water cooler as they walked by, and as Sadie watched, Jeremy turned his head and met her eyes. For a second he did nothing, then held up a hand and waved, just a hint of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. Sadie smiled back and linked one arm happily through Jessica’s.
“Don’t think I didn’t see that, you little hobag,” Jessica said, without turning her head.
Sadie came back from dinner that night to an empty room. She hadn’t seen the twins in the dining room, and she realized that lately, she hadn’t see
n much of them at all. She would sometimes see them lazily sipping coffee in the dining room in the afternoon, looking disheveled and sleepy, like grumpy cats. She almost never saw them after dinner though, and if they didn’t duck into the room at three minutes to 10 P.M., they stumbled in hours later, carrying their red-soled platforms and slurring their words like drunken British frat boys. She never asked them where they went, and some nights they didn’t come back at all.
And yet, somehow they hadn’t gotten caught. Mrs. Darrow supposedly did random bed checks, but they hadn’t had one since the first week of the semester. She remembered Ellen Bennett and the clack-clack-clacking of her heels. It made her wonder how much power that woman actually had over this school.
Sadie sat on her bed and stared at the empty room. It was only eight, but Brett had left the lobby early to work on a physics lab, and Jessica and Grace were writing essays. The rest of the team was in the TV room watching a Diva Divorcées marathon, and Sadie had barely gotten through three minutes of it without feeling like she was going to spontaneously combust.
Her eyes fell on her running shoes piled in the corner of the room, and she stood up.
The quad was quiet, but she still skipped from shadow to shadow until she was safely on the beach. Once on the path, she broke into a run, drawing in the salty air and feeling the wind whipping through her hair. It felt good.
Her muscles ached, but as she worked she felt them start to release. She could feel her stiff joints loosening, her stride falling easily into the familiar rhythm. She pushed herself faster than usual, letting all of her confusion and excitement and anxiety fuel her until it burned up like candle wax, leaving nothing behind but hot beads of sweat that dripped down her forehead.
She took the path to the stadium and jogged across the turf to the 50-yard line. Her sweatshirt felt heavy and damp, and she stripped it off and dropped it in a pile on the grass. She finished four 300-yard sprints before she finally collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily and closing her eyes.
She lay there for minutes, her mind finally quiet and her body screaming in pain. She thought about nothing except the drawing in and out of breath, and for once everything was still.
Poor Little Dead Girls Page 10
