I shook my head, half-wishing I had but more relieved that I hadn’t. “No,” I said.
He started to smile again, his eyes crinkling, but his face stopped, frozen, the smile replaced with the same stony look that had come over him when he argued with Emma.
Confused, I stepped away, taken aback, then turned to see where he was looking. With her microphone held in front of her like a weapon, Vicky Lewis, a local news reporter for Channel 5, was approaching us as fast as her stiletto heels would let her. Behind her came a cameraman lugging lighting gear and trailing a tangle of cords.
“Right here, Norm. NORM! STOP! I SAID RIGHT HERE!” Her voice was shrill, and I turned back in time to see Deke shudder slightly. He took a step back and glanced at me, his face relaxing for one moment in a force smile.
“Everybody loves a juicy story, right?” he said cryptically. I looked at him, waiting for him to continue, but he just shrugged, then pointed to my hands.
“One of these days, you’ve got to tell me what that story is all about,” he said. I glanced down at my fingers which had faded to same light shade as a cantaloupe melon.
“It’s noth - ,” I started to say, looking up, but he was already gone, his back to me as he trotted away and blended in with the crowd of runners following Coach Z back down to the track.
A loud gargling sound startled me, and I turned to see Vicky Lewis rolling a mouthful of water around before swallowing it. Handing her water bottle to me with a bright smile and a whispered, “Thanks!” she stepped back toward a spot that placed the front of Castlewood High squarely in her background.
One of the younger reporters on Channel 5, Vicky was probably in her late twenties. She was petite but looked taller and willowy thanks to her stiletto heels. With short brown hair artfully swept off her forehead, she looked both youthful and serious behind her tortoise-shell glasses.
Motioning to her cameraman to zoom in, Vicky leaned in with her microphone, her face tight with excitement.
“Good morning, this is Vicky Lewis, Channel 5 Breaking News Reporter. I’m coming to you live on the scene from Castlewood High School where 911 emergency personnel are responding to smoke in the high school building.” Her voice was smoothly professional, balancing controlled excitement with deep concern.
She shifted her weight and Norm followed, panning wide his camera wide as Vicky waved her arm in a sweeping arc with the school building behind her. Slight wisps of smoke drifted from the gym doors.
I stood watching, still holding her water bottle, wondering how I could politely put it down and walk away without ruining her shot. As I glanced at the front entrance of the school, a flash of pink leopard print topped with brassy blonde hair caught my eye and I froze.
My stepmother was here.
“As you can see,” Vicky began, her voice dropping into a serious pitch, “there is still smoke streaming from the open doors of the area of the building where the gym is located. Fire crews are actively engaged in determining the cause of the smoke and more firefighters are standing by at the ready in case further assistance is needed.”
I watched as my stepmother picked her way down the short slope toward us, Vicky completely unaware that her perfect backdrop was ruined. As she passed the microphone to her other hand while waving her right arm toward the groups of students in the front parking lot, Vicky gave Norm the tiniest of nods and he nodded pack, panning the other way as she continued. “Even on a Saturday morning, Castlewood High School is a busy place with several students on campus for extra-curricular activities, athletic practices, and events.”
My stepmother put a finger to her lips as she crept closer and I stood pinned, my hands clutching the water bottle so hard that it made a crinkling sound. Vicky paused for a second, her eyes sliding to me with a flicker of annoyance, then she finished, her expression serious as she faced the camera for her closeup. “Thankfully, according to my sources, all students, staff, and faculty have been accounted for and are outside of the building at this time.”
She touched her ear, nodding as she listened to incoming information on her Bluetooth.
“We have no reports of injuries at this time, but I will keep you updated as this breaking story continues to develop.” Vicky straightened up, her shoulders back, and started to finish.
“This has been -,” as my stepmother quickly stepped into the shot next to Vicky, dabbed delicately at her eyes with a tissue, and turned to face the camera.
Chapter Seventeen
Vicky’s eyes widened for just a moment, her fingers tightening around her microphone, but then she relaxed, rolling with it and quickly angling herself toward my stepmother like she had planned to interview her all along.
“This is a concerned parent who rushed to the high school campus as soon as she heard the news about today’s emergency event,” Vicky smoothly said as she turned toward my stepmother, holding the microphone tilted toward her. “How did you hear about the emergency here today, Mrs. Norwell?”
On the police scanner in her car! I wanted to scream, thinking of all the times my stepmother hurried to arrive at any scene where the news cameras might converge.
“Oh, Vicky, you are so kind to remember who I am in a time of crisis like this!” My stepmother touched her eyes with a tiny corner of her tissue again and sniffed slightly, trying to look brave as she struggled against tears.
I had to hand it to her. My stepmother knew how to set up a follow-on question.
Seizing the opportunity to keep the cameras rolling indefinitely, Vicky turned and flashed a quick smile to the camera as she said, “For our viewers who may not have had the opportunity to watch or attend last years Channel 5 Gowns and Goody Bags Gala, Tamara Norwell was not only one of our guest emcees for the event, but she also was a generous donor, offering one of her prized pageant gowns and tiaras as an auction item to benefit the Gowns and Goody Bags charity, a tri-county effort that makes sure every girl, no matter what her family situation or financial means may be, can have a beautiful dress and accessories for prom night.”
My stepmother smiled at the mention of her name, then quickly slipped back to a concerned look that dissolved into staged tears as Vicky’s voice became serious once again.
“Mrs. Norwell, you must have been shocked to hear the news of today’s emergency at Castlewood High School. Can you tell me more about what that was like for you this morning?”
“Terrifying. Utterly terrifying,” my stepmother said, her right hand on her heart as she shook her head. “You hear stories in the news of tragedies at schools across the country and you tell yourself that it will never happen here.” She paused, then shook her head one final time, before adding, “And then... it does.
Vicky nodded sympathetically, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I had to give it up to both of them; they both knew how to work the camera. Against my stepmother’s neck gleamed the white pearly surface of my mother’s cone shell necklace. Anger washed over me and I gripped the water bottle tightly again, not hearing what Vicky was asking my stepmother when it happened.
“... and to think, my darling daughter Cecelia was here this morning.”
My stepmother gestured at me and Vicky turned to me, stepping closer. My stepmother walked over and gave me a hug, her fingernails digging into my back as Norm moved in for a closeup. Wrapping an arm around my waist, my stepmother pulled me close and sniffled softly, looking straight into the camera.
“The thought of anything happening to her...,” her voice trailed off as she became visibly choked up, eyes welling with fresh tears.
“I can see how distressing this morning has been for you, Mrs. Norwell, and I can only imagine how many Castlewood High parents are feeling the same roller coaster of emotions as they receive this news,” Vicky inserted smoothly as she stepped into the shot, then turned to the camera, “Again, this is Vicky Lewis, Channel 5 Breaking News Reporter, coming to you live on the scene at Castlewood High where the cause of smoke in the building is still being inve
stigated by firefighters. I have with me Cecilia Norwell, a student who was in the building this morning when the alarms began sounding.”
She turned to me and thrust the microphone in my face. “Tell our viewers, Cecelia, where were you when the alarms went off?”
I stared back for a half-second, blinded by Norm the cameraman’s light and the shock of being pulled into my stepmother’s manufactured docu-drama. A sharp jab exploded in my ribs from my stepmother as she pulled me into a closer hug, digging her fingernails into my side, and I started talking.
“I, uh, I was in the, uh, library, I mean, the media center is what it’s called now because of all the, uh, computers and whatnot, and I was, uh, I was help-,” I floundered, my face getting hotter with every word. Sweat prickled at the nape of my neck and I tried again, “I mean, I was helping -”
“For those of you just joining us, we have an eyewitness, a student from Castlewood High School who was in the building today when smoke caused by an unknown source prompted a full evacuation. Tell our viewers, Cecelia, how did you escape from what must have been a terrifying moment of realization this morning that this was a genuine emergency, not a fire drill?”
I hesitated again, and my stepmother squeezed my upper arm this time, hard. “I, uh, I just headed for the stairs once the sprinklers went off,” I said in a rush. A crowd had gathered to watch our live interview, staring at me and my stepmother.
“Did you say sprinklers?” Vicky asked, zeroing in on me. Beside me, I felt rather than heard my stepmother snort again as she shifted impatiently from one foot to another. Norm had focused his camera solely on me, and the light mounted above it was nearly blinding me.
Vicky faced the camera and Norm mercifully swung toward her, closing in on a solo shot. I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to clear the starbursts of light that lingered.
“We have an eyewitness report that today’s emergency at Castlewood High School, where smoke from an unknown as yet cause tripped the fire alarms, also was serious enough to cause the school’s sprinkler system to react, showering the affected areas with water.” Vicky turned back to me, microphone out, and Norm’s camera blinded me once more. “Did you see evidence of water damage in the media center or anywhere else as you escaped to safety?”
“Um, no, I don’t remem -,” I began, but my stepmother jumped in before I could finish, stepping slightly in front of me and pushing her shoulder into my chest to move in front of the microphone.
“Vicky, I’m sure you and your viewers understand that Cici can’t be expected to have noticed little details like water damage while she was fleeing for her life today,” my stepmother said, her voice still serious but tinged with a note of challenge. She stared cooly at Vicky as she continued, “I, for one, am so very thankful she did escape safely, she and all the other students and staff here at Castlewood High, my alma mater. Minor water damage to a bunch of old books seems trivial at a time like this, a time when parents like myself are only concerned for their children’s welfare.”
My stepmother stared into the camera after her lengthy speech, her face drawn into lines of worry and concern. Vicky looked at her for a long pause, one eyebrow cocked up at the corner of her face, then quickly reached up to touch her Bluetooth, one hand raised as she nodded, focusing on what she was hearing. She refocused on the camera and spoke into her microphone once again.
“This just in... I have just received word that the Castlewood Community Coalition has stepped forward to partner with Castlewood High School and has pledged to donate all the proceeds from their first annual Pumpkin Run 5K Race, Walk, and Costume Contest to help with any and all cleanup, repairs, and replacements needed at Castlewood High School.”
Vicky stepped away from us, finding an open spot at the top of the slope with the high school and the gathered crowd behind her. Her features became serious once more. “I have also received confirmation from an official in Castlewood Fire Department - “She broke off, touching her Bluetooth again with a curt nod. “Confirmation that there is no fire in the building, just smoke that caused by a student in Saturday detention who -,” she paused, listening again, her brow puzzled as she repeated what she heard. “Who, according to my sources, lit a broom on fire, then waved it under several smoke detectors to set off the alarms and sprinklers.”
Shaking her head, she finished. “We will keep a close eye on this story for further developments and will bring them to you as news breaks.”
She shifted to her closing voice, her face serious. “Thankfully, what might have been a tragedy here at Castlewood High today was only a tragically terrible prank by a troubled student, causing water damage to an unknown amount of the school building. For our viewers who want to join the Castlewood community in helping offset the costs of cleanup and replacements at Castlewood High School, you can join in the future fun and festivities of the first annual Pumpkin Run 5K Race, Walk, and Costume Contest, sponsored by the Castlewood Community Coalition. All proceeds from this event will fund the cleanup effort. This has been Vicky Lewis, live at Castlewood High School, for Channel 5 Breaking News.”
She held the microphone for a few seconds longer, frozen in place, then said, “Cut.” Norm nodded and dropped his camera to his side, letting out an audible sigh of relief. The gathered crowd murmured and chattered as it dispersed, small pairs and groups of people wandering off in search of another live news broadcast to watch.
My stepmother had dropped her arm and let go of me as soon as the camera was off. Turning to look at me, her blue eyes narrowed as she hissed, “You were supposed to be here for detention! What were you doing in the media center?”
I took a step back, trying to put space between us as I scrambled to come up with an answer. But before I could say anything, Vicky tucked her microphone under her arm and walked over to the two of us, pulling her glasses off of the bridge of her nose. She stared at my stepmother, eyebrow cocked again, then looked at me and smiled. Her eyes squinted slightly at me as a calculated look spread across her face.
“So,” Vicky said, turning to me, her smile widening, “Good news about the fundraiser. Nice of the coalition to jump in to donate.”
She waved her glasses back toward the crowd of kids who had lingered on the grassy slope, all talking excitedly with animated faces. “This is shaping up to be a Sounds like a bunch of your classmates are already making costume plans for the race. What do you think about doing a follow-up interview in a few weeks at the Pumpkin Run?”
Chapter Eighteen
I froze. I didn’t really want to do another interview, but going to the race, running in the race?
I wanted that.
Badly.
But as I’d learned again and again and again, anytime I wanted to do something for myself, my stepmother made it her personal mission to make sure I got nothing instead.
Worse than nothing, really, I thought. She doesn’t just take away your choices; she takes away hope.
Next to me, my stepmother let out a soft gasp, the only show of surprise she gave at Vicky’s quick maneuvering. Recovering quickly, she turned it into a long sigh. Stepping forward, she shook her head sadly, wrapping her arm around my waist again.
“Oh Vicky,” she began, her voice breaking just a little with emotion. “Even if Cecelia wanted to run in the race, she has a health condition that puts her at risk. It just wouldn’t be safe and her doctor would have my head.” Squeezing me tightly, she flashed her freshly whitened teeth and tilted her head. “Of course, I would love to help you out with a follow-up interview. Think of the viewers! Tuning in to see me, to hear about how close to home this tragedy hit.”
Vicky smiled slowly, her eyes narrowing. “I’m sure we can work you in somewhere, Tammy.” Then she turned fully to me, her back to my stepmother like she was dismissing her from the discussion. “Even if you can’t run, you can still do the walk, Cecelia. And the costume contest. How about we just plan on a follow-up story with you on race day since I’ll be there.”
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sp; Flustered and annoyed, my stepmother answered, “Well, I imagine that might be possible, but only if - “
“I’ll do it,” I said in a rush before my stepmother could finish. I heard her take a sharp breath as Vicky shook my hand.
“Thank you, Cecelia,” Vicky said, slipping her glasses back on her nose as she pulled out her phone. “I’ll make a note of it right now - this will make for a great feel-good story to tie up this mess after all the facts about today’s events get sorted out over the next few weeks.” With a few taps, she finished and pocketed her phone again. “I’ll be in touch with you a day or so before the race so we can finalize the details. Thanks again!”
Vicky gracefully picked her way through the grass, her black stiletto heels sure and steady, as she followed Norm the camera man back to their Channel 5 Breaking News van.
“Listen up, girlie,” my stepmother hissed as soon as Vicky was out of earshot. “Don’t you get any ideas! I don’t care what little miss Vicky thinks. That interview is mine! You’re going to keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. I need this!” She paused, her eyes going distant, and then whispered as an afterthought, her hot pink fingernails tapping against her lips. “And Stacie and Drew need this, too.”
She snapped her focus back on me, her voice a shrill hiss. “And you’re going to wear whatever costume I say you are, and you’re not even going to think about walking faster than a snail in that race.” She pulled away, leaving fingernail marks on my forearm where she had pinched me, and sneered. “Remember, you have a dangerous health condition, Cecelia!”
She laughed then, still sneering, a low, snorting sound that made her sound like an angry cow, and pointed her finger in my face. Her other hand was on her hip. Leaning in until her hot pink fingernail nearly touched my nose, she whispered, “Don’t you dare forget that your running days are OVER!”
“Mom!”
Stacie waved, coming down the slope toward us, weaving through the remaining groups of students and coaches milling around the front of the school. Dressed in her cheer practice spirit wear, she jingled her car keys from her hand as she walked up to us.
Pumpkin Run Page 9
