guilt I’d felt. “We’re running out of time, and I’m not finished quite yet.”
“I promise, Nell, I won’t forget you,” I said. “What else do you want?”
“I want to warn you,” she replied. “You need to be aware that Marica hasn’t let this go, and she’s not going to give up on you.”
“She didn’t bother me last year,” I protested. “She left me alone in chemistry. She never even glanced at me when we passed in the walkways.”
“Could you hear her thoughts?” Nell’s question was quiet.
I flinched. I hadn’t told anyone—not even Michael—that I hadn’t been able to listen to Ms. Lacusta after our final showdown with Nell. Any small echoes I picked up from the teacher had been in her native language, a tongue I couldn’t decipher.
“She wants you,” Nell went on. “She wants your power. Never trust her for a minute.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why would you warn me?” I asked shakily.
Nell was quiet. She frowned and looked away from me. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe… I know what betrayal feels like. She used me. I don’t want to see her succeed. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“I guess it is.” For the space of several seconds, we gazed steadily at each other. For the first time, I looked at Nell without feeling the enmity she had always projected toward me. Her dark hair hung loosely around her pale face, and I noticed fleetingly that it was much longer than it had been last year. Her eyes moved from mine down to the scars on my neck, and her expression turned bleak.
Abruptly she moved as though to cover her face with her hands, and I gasped. What I had assumed was her ritual robe was not. Her hands were hidden beneath the white cotton sleeves, which were crossed behind her. Nell was wearing a strait jacket.
“It’s time for you to go.” Her voice was harsh. “Go. Get out of here. Go through the doors.”
Confused, I turned back to the main entrance and stumbled toward the swinging doors. Before I pushed through them, I braved a final glance back to my table. It was empty.
I awoke gasping and shaking, safe in my own bed. It was just past midnight, and I was alone.
If there was anything good about my nocturnal encounter with Nell, it did take my mind off returning to school the next day. Sleep had been a long time returning; even once I’d settled down and convinced myself that it had been only a dream, I kept the light next to my bed burning.
I was groggy the next morning, slow to rise and nervous about going to school. My mom and I had done our traditional back to school shopping the weekend before, and I had bought a floaty skirt and coordinating tank top for today. Now the idea of putting on anything seemed overwhelming, never mind fussing with makeup and blow drying my hair straight. I was so tired that I only wanted comfortable clothes and as little activity as possible.
But for my mom’s sake, I put on a happy face and dressed quickly. I used the high humidity outside as an excuse not to dry my hair; I let it go curly and full around my lightly made-up face. Scrutinizing my look in the mirror, I decided I’d do. I didn’t have my usual motivation to look good, since Michael was miles away and wouldn’t see me.
My mother had made a full and hearty breakfast, appropriate for the first day of my senior year. She joined me at the table, beaming at me over the pancakes, bacon and orange juice. During the summer and the rest of the school year, my usual breakfast was yogurt and fruit, sometimes adding half a bagel if the urge hit me. But at least once a year, my mom got the guilts and resolved to send me off with a full stomach.
I managed to get down some of the pancakes and nibbled on the bacon, all the while working to tune out her thoughts.
My baby’s last first day of school! I can’t believe she’s a senior. Seems like just yesterday she started kindergarten… I wish she’d eat more. I wonder if those pancakes
Learning to Kill: Stories