The chaperone, p.15
The Chaperone, page 15
I shake my head even though doing so is more painful than anything I’ve ever felt. I need the lightning to stop. “I’m not getting married, Dad.” I start to turn away, but he grabs my wrist, yanking me back. I flash to Adam doing the same thing last night. Is this how they do it? Is this how they control women? By overpowering us?
He barks at me when I look into his face. “You don’t understand.” His eyes have gone flat, and his hand is so tight on my wrist he could break the bone. His voice drops to a low hiss. “This isn’t up to you, Stella. This is my decision.”
Give obedience.
I hold his gaze. I could argue. Try to change his mind. Better yet, I could knee him in the groin and take off running when he drops to the pavement. Thanks to the Master, I know exactly how to do that. I might even make it home without anyone seeing me. But what good would that do? It would only delay the inevitable. I have to let him win now and, later, when I’m alone, figure out how to fight back.
It breaks my heart, but I say it. “Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER 50
The two acetaminophen I take do little to stop the pounding. It’s so bad I hold my head as Sister Laura and I walk to school.
Sister Laura doesn’t speak, understanding every word hurts, but there’s something I can’t wait until later to bring up.
“I want to ask you about some things you’ve said lately, and you have to promise to tell me the truth.”
Sister Laura nods but keeps walking without looking at me. “It depends on what you ask. Sometimes protecting you is more important than being honest.”
I stop and turn my whole body in Sister Laura’s direction even though doing so makes my head spin wildly. “Who are the Appomattox Six and what were you trying to say about New America last night? Were you saying Old America is real and New America is not?”
Sister Laura’s face contorts through too many different emotions to read. “I can’t tell you about the A6, Stella.”
“Why not?” I lift my hands in protest, immediately regretting that I’ve let go of my head.
“You’re not ready. And it wouldn’t help you. Knowing what happened would only hurt you.” Sister Laura’s eyes plead with me, and I decide to let it go. “And as far as New America, I guess it’s not true that it isn’t real. It’s real to you. It’s real to your friends. It’s all you’ve ever known. I guess what I mean is it’s not right.”
“Not right?” Even I hear the skepticism in my voice. “Then why do you live here?”
“It’s complicated, Stella.”
“I don’t see why.” I return a hand to my forehead. “You were sixteen when this country was founded. You could’ve left.”
“Maybe there was a reason to stay.”
“Like what?”
Sister Laura looks down the sidewalk. “You’re the one who recognized the reason I’m a chaperone is to help girls.”
“But you can’t help me. You can’t get me time alone with Mateo. You can’t get me into real classes. You can’t get my teachers to let me talk. You can’t get people to take me seriously. You can’t get me a driver’s license. You can’t get me out of Sunday Visitation, much less marriage.”
Now Sister Laura is the one lifting her hands to her head. She rubs her eyes, which looks truly painful. “You’re right, Stella. You know you’re right. But I can help you with other things. Things within your control.”
“What if I don’t want the things within my control? What if I want the things I’m not allowed to have?”
“I’m sorry, Stella. That can’t happen here.”
“You mean, in Bull Run?”
She looks over her shoulder. “No,” she whispers. “I mean, in New America. You can never have what you want here.”
We’re less than three blocks from school. I look up and down the street, but there isn’t another soul around. The grass of every single lawn is so dry it’s the color of hay. The leaves on the trees have turned a gray-brown color. The plants have dried up. Everything around me is dead.
“I wish I didn’t have to live here anymore. I wish someone would kidnap me.”
“Don’t say that, Stella. Don’t say that unless—”
“Unless what?”
Sister Laura shakes her head. “Just…just don’t say that.”
CHAPTER 51
The whispers start as soon as I enter the school. I do my best to ignore them, but the words still reach me.
* * *
Missing.
Kidnapped.
Willow.
Willow?
I pass my locker and head straight to Bonita’s. Liv is already there. When they see me, Bonita’s eyes lock on mine.
“What is it?”
Bonita’s eyes widen. “You haven’t heard?”
“No.”
“Another Red Alert.”
“Where?”
“Bull Run, Stella. Someone from our school is missing.”
No one from Bull Run has ever gone missing. I take a deep breath. “Was it Willow? Was it Willow Howard?”
Liv tugs on her sleeves for the first time since homecoming.
“What happened?”
Bonita explains. “She went missing last night.”
I look at my watch. It isn’t even eight in the morning. I saw Willow less than eight hours ago.
Liv’s eyes squeeze shut. “They got her, Stella. She’s gone.”
* * *
Mateo appears right after the words leave Liv’s mouth.
He stops directly in front of me. As if it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to do. “You heard?”
He knows too? Does this mean it’s real? Willow is really gone? But I just saw her. How could she be gone? That guy. The one she called baby. He followed her out. He must’ve done something. The pounding in my head comes rushing back. It’s too much. I put my hand on the locker next to Bonita’s.
“Stella?” Mateo grabs me by the arm.
I drop my gaze to his hand. He’s touching me. In public.
“Stella, are you okay?”
That’s when everything goes black.
* * *
I fall back against the lockers, and Mateo catches me before I slide to the floor.
They take me to the nurse’s office, Bonita leading the way. Mateo slings my arm over his neck, and Liv keeps a hand on my back. I’m with it enough to see everyone looking at us, pointing.
The nurse makes me lie down even though I’m starting to feel better. She sends the others to first period. She takes my vitals, tells me to rest. I count the ceiling tiles and wait for sleep to come.
I don’t make it to thirty.
* * *
I wake to the sound of the bell ringing. It takes me a minute. Willow. Mateo. The nurse’s office.
When Nurse Weeks returns, I sit up. “How long did I sleep?”
She looks at the dainty silver watch on her wrist. “Almost three hours.”
“Three hours?” I say with disbelief. “But I just heard the bell ring.”
“The end of third period.”
“What?”
She comes over to my cot, sets a cold hand on my forehead. “You’re not warm.” She lifts my chin to face her. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Do you want to go to class? Or should I call your mother to come get you?”
I shake my head. “I can go to class.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” She turns away from me and moves back toward her desk. “But you may just want to go home and sleep it off. I know a hangover when I see one.”
I don’t deny it but don’t admit anything either. If the constables find out, I’ll be expelled. Or worse. And what if Mateo finds out? I play dumb and flee before Nurse Weeks asks questions.
I’m at my locker, reaching for my literacy book when I hear it.
Someone shouting the word slut across the hallway like an accusation.
It’s happened before. It happens to girls like Willow and Lana all the time. I spin around to find the target. Honestly I hope it’s Willow. I want her to be standing there, scowling at me, her neat bun back in place. Because then I’d know she’s okay.
But instead of Willow, I come face-to-face with a boy I don’t know glaring at me from the other side of the hall. He’s tall and frighteningly thin. I recognize his blue blazer and plaid tie as the uniform of the Climbers, but his pink skin and strawberry blond hair are unfamiliar. He looks like a blue pencil with a pink eraser.
When our eyes meet, he puts a fist to his mouth, coughs, and spits the vile word into his hand. “Slut!”
Everyone within earshot turns to look at me.
One girl slits her eyes in judgment. Another’s mouth stretches in shock.
Boys up and down the hall don’t bother to conceal their smug grins. They look like they’ve won some kind of contest. Like they’ve beaten me at a game I didn’t even know we were playing.
CHAPTER 52
I don’t go to class.
I head the opposite way down the hall, toward the doors that lead to the front courtyard.
The bell announcing the start of fourth period rings before I get there, and the hallway empties, all the other students sucked into classrooms by some gravitational pull I no longer feel.
I hesitate. The constables stand right outside, guarding the school like the prison it is.
There’s no escape, but I also can’t face the girls in Basic Literacy snickering behind my back if Mr. Conlon makes me diagram a sentence on the board. I just don’t have it in me. I can handle the whispers and stares. But being called a slut? Why would someone think that? All those times people called Willow a word like that? Was it ever true? What does a girl have to do to deserve such a slur? Does anything make it okay?
I can’t just stand there. Sooner or later the constables will look my way or step inside to use the restroom. That’s when it comes to me—I can hide in the bathroom next to the cafeteria and figure out what to do with Bonita and Liv at lunch.
But when I turn away from the doors, I’m surprised to see the boy with strawberry blond hair standing directly behind me. How long has he been there?
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second before I break away from his gaze. I stride right past him, and I sense him following me. I walk faster, but when I glance over my shoulder, he’s still behind me, only twenty lockers back. His eyes study the floor so intensely it’s like a message is written there. I don’t look again until I make it to the restroom. When I get there, I peek over my shoulder and see him gaining ground.
I throw the door open, hurry inside, and push it closed behind me. There’s no lock. Why is there no lock? Has there ever been a lock? He won’t dare follow me in here. Will he?
This bathroom is tiny. There are only two stalls and one sink. Nowhere to hide.
I put my ear to the door but can’t hear anything except the sound of my own thudding heartbeat.
He’s out there. I can feel him on the other side of the door. A cheetah waiting to pounce. I have no choice but to wait him out. Navigate the world with care, Stella. I look at my watch. Fifty minutes until lunch. I’m trapped until then. I go to the sink. There are bags under my eyes. My hair sticks up in back. I have to calm down, pull it together. I take a deep cleansing breath, tell myself everything will be okay.
That’s when the door flies open.
* * *
It’s him.
The Climber.
“What are you doing?” I yell. “Get out!”
“I came to see you.” He takes a single step, crossing the threshold into the bathroom.
“What for?” Why am I even talking to him?
“I think you know, Graham.” He takes another step toward me. I don’t say a word this time. “I heard you’re easy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re good for the go. A slut in training wheels. That’s what I hear.”
My heart is already racing, but the cortisol takes it to a higher level. Fight-or-flight kicks in for real. I have to get out of there. Or else I have to fight.
“I’ll scream. I swear.”
His response is to take another step in my direction. He’s three feet in front of me. Just over an arm’s length away. If he lunges, I’ll be within reach.
“No, you won’t.” He smiles. “Because if you scream, I’ll tell them where you were last night.”
“You can’t do that.”
Can he? Unlike me, he has nothing to lose. This must be what Willow meant. Once I step into that world, once the rumors start, there’s no going back. He’s absolutely right. I can’t scream.
I have to fight.
The Master’s words come back to me. Draw a line in the sand. If they back away, walk past them. If they cross it, strike first.
“If you come one step closer, I’ll have to defend myself.”
He lets out an amused chortle, his eyes lighting up. “Go right ahead, Graham. That’ll make this even more fun.”
Neither one of us say anything for another long second.
And then he does it. He steps toward me.
He crosses the line.
I know exactly what to do.
I pull back my right hand to fake him out. He falls for it and tries to block me on the right, giving me the chance to attack him on the left. I swing as hard as I can and land a solid hook to the left side of his gut. He doubles over. While he’s incapacitated, I grab both of his arms above the elbows, hold him steady, and launch my knee into his groin.
All that’s left is to step out of his way before he falls to the ground like a giant bag of books.
* * *
There isn’t a single person in the hallway when I walk out of the bathroom. No one has heard us. I’m in the clear.
I stroll away like it’s perfectly normal for me to be in the hall without a pass, the Climber grunting and cursing in the bathroom behind me. He calls me the word Sister Laura told me to never tolerate. The word that starts with a C.
Now I know for sure.
I want out.
CHAPTER 53
I don’t tell Sister Laura right away.
But I bet she knows it’s coming. That’s what she meant when I said I wanted to be kidnapped.
Don’t say that unless—
Now I know what comes after “unless.” Don’t say that unless you want to escape. Don’t say that unless you want to get out.
I didn’t even know that was an option. Now I’m confident that’s what she meant.
It has to be. It just has to.
CHAPTER 54
I have to consider what—and whom—I’m leaving behind. When I’m running with Dad the next morning, I try to add it up. We’ve just crested the hill past Bonita’s house when it comes to me.
I need a list.
First is Sister Helen. She’s already gone, but I still count her because she’s everywhere here, calling to me like a ghost.
Then there’s Mom and Dad. And Shea, of course. The three of them plus Sister Helen make four.
I sneak a look at Dad. When I was little, everything was different. He’d crawl on the ground and play Legos with me. We’d build red- and white-striped houses and talk about every idea that came in my head. But we haven’t bonded like that since Sister Helen arrived. It’s true we have our morning runs now, and sometimes when we’re both out of breath at the top of the hill, I feel more connected to him than I have in years. But we almost never talk. And I have no doubt he’d get out of doing this with me if he could.
He turns in my direction. “Are you okay, Stella?”
He must have felt me studying him.
Our eyes meet, but I pull mine away. It’s uncomfortable to look directly at each other anymore. When did that happen?
“I’m good actually.”
Satisfied, he turns back to the road in front of us.
Mom is complicated. Most days she treats me like the help. And then there’s the way she talks about Sister Helen. That hurts more than anything. It’s like we can’t be close with a chaperone in the house.
Shea is the other reason Mom and I never have time together. She’s an extension of Mom. There’s no room for me in that union.
Bonita and Liv are next. Numbers five and six. Imagining my life without them makes me breathless. I count on them for so much that it’s impossible to comprehend letting them go. They always have my back. And they’re the only people who make me laugh.
Except for Mateo. Lucky number seven.
But how often do I get to see him? An hour a day and twenty feet apart in Musical Expression. A minute in the hallway each morning. Forget about talking to him. I could count the words we exchange each day on one hand.
Leaving Mateo will be torture, but I don’t see the point in staying if we can’t spend one minute alone.
And then there’s Sister Laura. Number eight. I never would have expected it, but it will be hard leaving her too. No, she’s not Sister Helen, but she’s still become a part of my life. A person I have difficulty believing I can live without.
“Stella?” Dad stops at the community garden. Is he out of breath? I pause and turn to him, confused. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I don’t know why he’s asking.
He points at my face. “You’re crying.”
I didn’t even realize. I wipe my eyes. “I’m good now, Dad. I promise.”
His attention feels hot on my face. Except for the day Sister Helen died, he hasn’t shown this much concern in years. I don’t know how to handle it. The worry in his eyes is genuine. He can’t fake that. I feel his desire to reach out, comfort me. But that’s not allowed.
It’s against the rules. It always has been.
It always will be.
CHAPTER 55
Eight people.
Less than a dozen. Fewer than I can count on two hands. Is that enough to stay in a place where I’m not free?
