win Baxter’s office; the principal. He stands behind his desk and looks at all of us until we stop fidgeting. I recognize a lot of the faces from the last two nights, but Victoria is noticeably absent.
His voice is sharp and serious when he finally addresses us. “I’m sure you’ve all heard about the incident with the lamp.”
It takes everything in me not to glance guiltily at Astor. I catch several pairs of eyes darting my way out of the corner of vision, and I curse them inwardly.
The principal continues. “It seems that someone broke into the lighthouse just up the coast, shattering a window in the process, and stole a very expensive antique lamp from the property. Thankfully ... it was returned unscathed, but the school property destroyed in the process is another matter.”
Right, I remember hearing about the computer and files. The lump thickens in the back of my throat. I knew I could get in serious trouble for stealing the lamp, but this is so, so much worse.
“Whoever broke in and left that lamp is responsible, and I know it’s one of you.” He eyes us all suspiciously. “This kind of criminal behavior is unacceptable at Hawthorne Academy! There will be no tolerance for behavior like this. I want to know what happened, and I want to know right now.”
His dark, glassy eyes scan every one of our faces carefully, one at a time. No one speaks.
I want to swallow but there’s a knot in my throat the size of a bowling ball. If I’m discovered; if I’m found out, it’s curtains for me. I’ll be kicked out for sure ... and who’s to say that’s the end of it?
If they find out I’m not Sadie White in the process—and let’s be honest, how couldn’t they—I could end up somewhere even worse. The system is all too quick to send kids like me to juvie. Even if I did get out before I turned eighteen, I doubt they’d be able to place me again.
From elite academy to homeless in one day. It’s very possible.
The full severity of what I’ve done washes over me like ice cold water, and my palms begin to sweat as my heart bangs louder inside of me. It’s even worse now that I’ve tasted what I could have.
When no one speaks for a very long, very uncomfortable minute, Dr. Baxter sighs in frustration.
“Very well, since none of you will speak up about it, I will move to the next step. The lighthouse manager said there’s a camera he can access if we get the proper permits. I didn’t want it to come to this, but if none of you speaks up, we’ll have to turn this over to the authorities to obtain the video.”
I can feel the tension in the room, and I pray with everything in me that no one is looking at me now. After all, once that video comes back none of them are going to get in trouble. It’s my face they’ll see.
“It was me, Dr. Baxter. It was just a prank. No damage or harm intended. I’ll foot the bill and return the lamp.”
Everyone in the room gasps, including me, and I turn to see Astor with his chin held high, and a determined look on his face.
Dr. Baxter sighs and frowns, looking down at his desk as he taps his fingers firmly against it for a moment.
“Go ahead, ask for those videos then,” Astor says, “You’ll see it was my jacket in the videos. It was so dark I doubt you’ll be able to make out anything else. But that is, of course, only necessary if you don’t believe me …”
When Dr. Baxter raises his eyes again and clears his throat, it’s clear that he knows he’s just lost. “Astor Hawthorne. I’d like to speak with you alone. The rest of you are dismissed.”
We all file out, and though I try to catch Astor’s eye he refuses to look at me. He keeps his gaze trained straight ahead at the principal.
I feel wretched. As much as this whole scenario was Astor’s fault, I’m not used to letting other people take the blame for me. I run the whole scenario through my mind over and over again; trying to work out the tangled puzzle of why in the world Astor would step up and say that he did it.
Sure he was the one who taunted me into it, but I was the one who committed the crime. I’m the criminal. I can’t begin to understand why he’d take the heat for me. Yet again, Astor turns out to be completely inscrutable.
Victoria is still blissfully oblivious to the trouble when I knock on her door. She’s beaming and bouncing when I step into the room. For a moment I feel like I should tell her, but then I remember how upset and jealous she was just because Astor pulled my chair out for me in the dining hall. I don’t think it’s such a good idea to tell her he just saved my ass. She’ll find out soon enough.
In the meantime, perhaps I can just focus on anything else so that my mind isn’t centered on Astor.
“You’re late.” She bounds to her closet and throws the door open. It’s stuffed with more clothes and shoes, bags, and accessories than should be possible. For someone who I’ve never seen in anything other than her perfectly-pressed school uniform, she certainly has quite the collection.
Victoria gives me a critical looking over as she taps her perfectly manicured fingertip on her chin. “Blonde, height … weight … shape … face … eyes …” she mutters to herself. Suddenly she snaps her fingers. “I’ve got it!”
She turns and rifles through the wall of clothing before her, and then spins back to face me with a grin on her face and a beautiful cobalt blue dress in her hands. I lower a brow doubtfully.
“That looks kind of small.”
‘Kind of’ is being generous. It looks like it was made for a doll, not an adult-sized human.
She waves her hand in the air dismissively. “Oh, it’ll be perfect. Strip down. Come on. We don’t have all night.” Her eyes become hooded. “Unless, of course, you think you know better.”