A Tale of Two Proms (Bard Academy)

by Lockwood, Cara

  “You won’t get the chance,” Coach H said, sounding sure, as he and Headmaster B and Miss A approached us slowly. “You’re going back to fulfill your destiny.”

  “You mean die young in childbirth?” Catherine threw her head back and laughed. “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “Oh, I think I do,” Catherine said. “And it’s all because of Miranda.” I must have looked confused because Catherine stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. “Since you are so in love with the things I love…” She glanced at Heathcliff when she said this. “I can only assume you want to be me.”

  I tugged hard at Catherine’s grip, but she held me fast. Her eyes were dark and full of menace.

  “I will never be you,” I shouted, tugging hard.

  “Oh, yes, you will,” Catherine said. “At least for the last few days of my short-lived life. It’s time for you to pay the price for coveting what wasn’t yours.” Somehow, Catherine spun me around and now had her arm around my throat, the crook of her elbow choking me a little. It all happened so fast, I didn’t have time to fight her. “And you were so kind to bring yourself and the book with you. This has saved me quite a lot of bother. Heathcliff, get the book.” Her voice left no room for argument. I realized with dread what she meant. She planned to send me into Wuthering Heights. I was going to live out Catherine’s life, which was pretty much the same as a death sentence. The idea made me light-headed and nauseous all at once.

  Heathcliff stiffened by Catherine’s side. My friends froze. Coach H and Headmaster B hovered nearby, exchanging a look. Miss A looked severely pained and helpless. Nobody wanted to make a sudden move and make the situation worse.

  Beside me, I saw Heathcliff dip to pick up my book bag.

  “No,” I gurgled, but then Catherine tightened her grip, sealing off any chance I had to speak. I struggled, but it was no use. She had me tight. She was surprisingly strong.

  Heathcliff reached in and grabbed the book. I looked at his face, really looked at him, and he met my eyes. I tried to plead with him silently not to do this, not to sentence me to death, to a life as a ghost. Tears slid down my cheeks. He grabbed the book, a frown on his face. I desperately tried to imagine my way out of this, trying to clutch at any scene that might not be this one, but I couldn’t concentrate. Catherine’s hand on my throat and Heathcliff holding the book; I simply couldn’t block out those images in my head, no matter how much I tried. I wouldn’t be able to wish myself out of here. And then, my vision clouded with stars. I was going to pass out soon. Catherine was choking me. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Let her go,” shouted Sydney. His voice was enough to distract Catherine long enough to loosen her grip a little.

  “You’re wrong, Catherine,” said Ryan. He stood beside Sydney.

  “Excuse me?” she dropped me to the floor and I started sucking in air. The stars that had clouded my vision receded a little. “Who are you?”

  Even Catherine wasn’t completely immune to Ryan’s charms. After all, he was a handsome guy. Catherine took note.

  “You don’t really believe in all that fate crap, do you?” Ryan asked Catherine as he moved closer.

  She was momentarily taken aback. I was sure not many people talked to Catherine like that, especially not boys that looked like Ryan. Everything I knew about Catherine told me that any boy she came across fell instantly in love with her. Someone like Ryan must’ve been a rare find.

  “Nobody’s life in the real world is written out ahead of time,” Ryan said. He took another step closer. Catherine released her grip on my throat. As I wheezed in air, I took the opportunity to speak, my voice barely a croak.

  “Heathcliff, you aren’t this person,” I managed to choke. “You’re better than this.” It’s what I always believed, and I realized a part of me still believed it. I still believed Heathcliff was not the monster he was destined to become, that there was still time for him to be redeemed.

  At least, I hoped so.

  He met my eyes then, and glanced down at the book in his hands.

  “You don’t know him at all,” Catherine declared, her attention turned squarely back on me. “Heathcliff is not an honorable man. He’s not a romantic hero. He’s not whatever you’ve built him up to be in your mind. Only I truly know him for what he is—a villain through and through.”

  Heathcliff’s head lifted slightly, and he looked at Catherine. I wondered for a second, just a split second, if she was right. Was he as bad as she thought he was? Could he kill me? And how could she love him if she really thought he was that rotten to the core?

  I could almost feel the indecision in the room. My friends and teachers didn’t know what to think, either.

  “Heathcliff isn’t bad,” I said, stubbornly, as I pulled myself to my feet. “He’s like the rest of us. He gets to decide what he is. He makes decisions. Good ones. Bad ones. He decides his destiny. That’s the way the world works. The real world, The one that you so badly want to live in. We don’t have scripts. We don’t have predestined endings. We just have lives, and we live them the best we can day to day. That is what it means to be in our world.”

  I thought it was a good speech. At least if I was about to bite it, I could at least go out on a high note.

  “You can’t save him,” Catherine hissed at me. “You’ve tried and failed.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t save him.” Heathcliff’s eyes met mine, searching for my meaning. “Only Heathcliff can save himself. Only he has the power to do that.”

  Heathcliff glanced down at the book he still held in his hands.

  The ground shook again and a large crack split the tiled floor beneath our feet. I hardly noticed it, since my full concentration was on Heathcliff. I waited—the whole room waited—for his decision.

  And then, he held the book out to Catherine. My breath caught in my throat. My heart folded in on itself with dread. But just as Catherine reached forward to grab it, Heathcliff snatched the book away from her and grabbed her by the wrist. In one fast move, he spun her away from me and in the next instant tossed the book up into the air to Headmaster B. She reached out and grabbed it, even as Catherine went sprawling on the ground.

  Heathcliff scooped me up in his arms and moved quickly away from Catherine. Headmaster B was already opening the book and summoning Catherine into it. I saw over Heathcliff’s shoulder, the screaming and furious Catherine trying to crawl away. She clawed uselessly at the floor but it was no use. The forces calling her back into the book were too strong and she couldn’t resist them. In seconds, she was gone, swept back to the place where she belonged, inside the pages of her destiny.

  I looked in Heathcliff’s face and he met my eyes. He had saved me, again, and this time, he’d saved himself, too. He touched my cheek gently. I looked up and saw my Heathcliff there, the tender boy I knew who loved me.

  “I told you I would take care of this,” he said, and he smiled at me, and in that moment, that one second, I knew that this had been his plan all along. Somehow, he had been looking for a way to send Catherine back. The dramatic pause he’d taken in making his decision had been an act to fool Catherine. “It took you long enough to find me.”

  “How did you know… that I’d be here? With the books and just at the right moment?

  “I trusted you’d come,” he said. “And I was right.” He pulled away from me. “You didn’t really believe I’d go back to Catherine?” And then he quirked an eyebrow.

  “I did, actually.”

  “Then, I’m a better actor than I thought.” Heathcliff smiled. A tremor, however, shook the floor beneath us. “Although, I admit,” he added as the ground rumbled. “Maybe I didn’t have the best plan.”

  “You think?” asked Lindsay as she tried to steady herself.

  “You caused us all a lot of grief,” Sydney said.

  “And it’s not over yet,” Lindsay said, looking at the ceiling, which was starting to crumble.

>   “Catherine had to be stopped,” Heathcliff said. “I realized too late what her plans were, and after what happened to Bard…I had to go along until I found a way to send her back to Wuthering Heights. I was trying to find a way to keep Miranda safe. That’s all.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, tears of relief slipping out of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. I was just happy to be alive, and here, and that the nightmare was over. Well, almost over.

  Another rumble shook the ground and I clung to Heathcliff. Apparently, Catherine being sent back to Wuthering Heights wasn’t enough to stop the monumental shifts happening in the Bard library. Large pieces of cement and brick crumbled and peeled away from columns and walls. Sconces tumbled to the ground. The earth shook. Heathcliff held me fast, and he was running, and it felt, for a second, like I was flying. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blade and Samir scrambling to the exit with Lindsay and Ryan and Hana not far behind. I wanted to help them. I wanted to turn back, but there was no fighting Heathcliff and his single-minded desire to get me out of harm’s way. He would not be stopped. He was running full speed. I buried my face in his shoulder and clung to him. He held me. And he ran out the door and down the steps. We got to the bottom of the steps in time to see one of the stone lions cracked straight down the side, and a big paw clattered to the ground and broke into large clay pieces, which scattered in every direction. The steps were crumbling, and a crack appeared near the bottom, tearing through the stone. Heathcliff fell to the ground and so did I. Heathcliff went one way and I went another, and as we scrambled to our feet, Headmaster B appeared, as if from thin air, standing between us.

  I saw her face, saw the intent in her eyes, as she held aloft her copy of Wuthering Heights. In that instant, I knew exactly what she planned to do.

  “No!” I meant for it to be a shout, but it came out as a sad-sounding croak.

  “It’s his time to go,” Headmaster B told me.

  “No! There has to be another way,” I pleaded. My eyes were glued to Heathcliff as if I could keep him in this world by sheer force of will. He got to his feet slowly, carefully. I thought at first he was considering his options, considering a way out that might involve brute force, but his body didn’t tense for fight. Instead, he relaxed his shoulders and put his hands out palms up. He looked like a tired fugitive who’d been caught by the police. He stood there, holding his hands out, as if he planned to surrender quietly.

  Lindsay ran down the collapsing stairs, with my friends not far behind.

  “What’s going on?” Blade asked, as she and Samir skidded to us. Ryan and Hana were on their heels. Everyone saw Heathcliff and Headmaster B, and, more importantly, the book she held in her hand.

  “We have to right the wrongs,” Headmaster B said. “We have to restore the balance.”

  The whole front of the library shook. The big white columns popped and cracked under the pressure. One large chunk of a column fell with a crash about five feet away. Samir jumped back several feet. Headmaster B turned to look and I lunged. I was aiming for the book, but I missed by inches. I toppled to the floor, my hands empty. And then Coach H was there, standing above me. He blocked out the moon, the night sky, the library, everything. “We have to do this,” he said to me. “There’s no other way. Nothing will be stable again unless Heathcliff goes back. We can’t save Bard any other way.”

  Tears filled my eyes.

  “If you truly love her,” Headmaster B said. “You’ll do this. She won’t be safe any other way.”

  I glanced at Heathcliff. “No, don’t….Don’t do this!” I screamed, but I could tell by the look on his face he’d already decided.

  “If it will save Miranda, I’ll go,” Heathcliff said and held his head high. “Do what you will.”

  Headmaster B began to open the book, and I struggled to get to my feet, but Coach H held me fast. He wasn’t going to let me go.

  “There is another way,” Miss A said. She came from somewhere behind me, her skirts rustling as she walked past. Sydney trailed behind her. Headmaster B eyed them both warily, holding the book out as if it were a weapon. “Be still, Charlotte. This isn’t a mutiny. Just consider another option.” Miss A spread her hands to show they were empty and Headmaster B relaxed a little. She was willing to let her pass. Miss A walked closer to Heathcliff, bringing Sydney with her. She stood him beside Heathcliff. The two boys looked at each other, eyeing one another from head to toe. In the dark of the street I could hardly tell them apart. Heathcliff frowned, as if he didn’t like what he saw. Sydney frowned right back at him. It was like watching a live action mirror.

  “The resemblance is really uncanny,” Hana said. She’d drawn closer to Coach H and me.

  “They could be twins,” Coach H agreed.

  “They are nearly identical,” said Headmaster B. “But surely you don’t mean to…” She glanced at Miss A, and then both of them exchanged a look with Coach H.

  “Could it work?” Coach H asked. He turned to Headmaster B as if they were trying to figure out how to fix a projector.

  “Of course it wouldn’t.” Headmaster B gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “You won’t know until you try.” Miss A smiled sweetly at Headmaster B, who did not loosen her grip on Wuthering Heights.

  A column fell with a thundering crash behind them. A big hunk of the roof tumbled forward. It sprayed me with dust and small bits of broken concrete. Lindsay stood beside me, her hair sprinkled with specks of gray dust.

  “Can we move things along?” Lindsay asked. “I’d rather not get crushed by flying debris from the library. So can you all stop farting around and tell the rest of us what you’re talking about!” I guess it was Lindsay’s turn to lose her crap and yell at the faculty.

  “Tone, please, Miss Tate,” Headmaster B said tersely. She cleared her throat and continued. “To answer your question, Miss Tate, Miss A, I believe, is offering up Sydney in a kind of exchange.”

  “What?” I cried, and I wasn’t the only one.

  “Sydney is going to take Heathcliff’s place? And Sydney is cool with that?” Samir blurted.

  Every one of us stared at Sydney, expecting him to complain loudly about the prospect. Instead, he surprised us all and slowly nodded his head.

  “It’s my choice,” he said.

  I thought back to when Miss A had pulled Sydney aside earlier that evening. I thought about how intent they were in their conversation. Had she been preparing him for this very moment? But…how could he do something like this? He barely knew me.

  “But I thought he was supposed to die in A Tale of Two Cities,” Hana said.

  “He already had his execution day,” Miss A said, referring to his brush with the guillotine. “He won’t be missed. The actual execution is not described in detail in the book. This is an area that could be… ” She paused, then added, “glossed over.”

  I could feel Heathcliff’s eyes move from me to Sydney. He didn’t say a word. I didn’t know if what he planned to do.

  “You can’t want to have Heathcliff’s life,” Headmaster B told Sydney. “It’s a wretched one full of suffering.”

  Heathcliff didn’t seem fazed by Headmaster B’s cold assessment of his whole existence. Either he was resigned to the fact she saw him that way, or he agreed.

  “Better than losing your head to the guillotine, though, I suspect.” Sydney gave me smile. “And yet, possibly equally heroic.” He looked at me intently and I understood why he was doing this.

  “You can’t make a decision like this in the moment, son,” Coach H said, as he let me go and moved closer to Sydney. “There’s no turning back after you go.”

  “I’ve had days to think about it,” Sydney said. “I’m ready.”

  Days? But he and Miss A had only been talking tonight. Unless this had been Miss A’s plan all along. Unless she had been the one to bring Sydney over to this world. She was looking at me expectantly, as if she were waiting patiently for me to put it all together.

 
“When you said you’d help me and Heathcliff, you didn’t really mean help us go to prom. You brought Sydney here.” I took several steps forward. Everything started to make sense.

  Miss A nodded. “Forgive me, Miranda. I may have been a bit…overzealous. But, I wanted what was best for you two. I knew Charlotte was intent on keeping you apart, but I thought there might be a way to keep you together.”

  “I don’t think we even know if them being together is the best thing for anyone,” Coach H said. None of the surviving faculty held all that high an opinion of Heathcliff.

  Heathcliff’s eyes studied me, but he remained silent.

  “I want to do this,” Sydney told me.

  “There has to be another way,” I said. I might not be in love with Sydney, but I didn’t think it was fair that he’d have to take Heathcliff’s place, either.

  Sydney approached me, and gently put his hands on my arms. “Miranda, I am a worthless and mean drunk. I’ll make a great Heathcliff. No offense meant.” He nodded at Heathcliff, who just scowled.

  “But…” I looked at the ground, confused and torn.

  Sydney lifted my chin with one finger.

  “This is a far, far better thing I do now, than I have ever done,” he said and he bent and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. Near me, Heathcliff stiffened. I put my hand out and touched his arm. He didn’t move.

  Sydney pulled away from me and then walked to Headmaster B, holding his head high. Headmaster B hesitated, and in that pause, Miss A swooped in and scooped the book straight out of her hands.

  “Jane!” she exclaimed, displeased.

  “Charlotte, you know this is the best course of action.” Jane pushed up the sleeves of her gown as if she planned to do some heavy lifting and then she opened the cover of the old book.

  Miss A began to read from the novel and as she did, a portal appeared, like the others. It shone gold along the edges as it grew from the size of a lunchbox to a full-sized doorway. On the other side, I saw a cloudy sky and rolling hills as far as the eye could see—the moors, I assumed. Heathcliff took a step closer to the portal, his eyes wide. I didn’t know if he ever thought he’d see his home again. I wondered if he missed it. Despite all he’d done and said, I found as I looked up at his sharp profile that I still had nagging doubts. Did he want to be here with me? Or did a part of him want to go back? I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I wished I knew what he was thinking.