Page 16 of Hateful
I may be able to focus on studying, but somehow I’ve become distracted when it comes to everything else.
I’m humming tunelessly to myself as I head through a sparsely populated corridor, taking a shortcut toward the dormitory wing now that I’m not likely to be cornered in some dark closet by Jasper, Heath, or Beck. The hall is lined with doors to old classrooms that are usually used as clubrooms nowadays. I pass by the chess club door just as it opens—and Headmistress Robin steps out, a smile curling onto her face as I almost smack into her.
“Mr.Trevellian,” she says in a tone that’salmostpleasant. “How lovely to see you.”
I freeze. They say when you get a rush of adrenaline, your fight-or-flight instincts kick in. Mine must not work, because I do neither.
But I should. I should feel fear around her, because right now … she’s my biggest threat.
Instead, I react too slow. I glance over my shoulder, trying to think of some excuse—any excuse—to head in the opposite direction, but she beats me to the punch.
“It’s lunchtime now, is it not?” she says, following my hasty glance. “Surely you have time. How about we pop into this classroom over here?” She smiles and gently places a hand on my shoulder, a gesture that is hardly reassuring coming from her.
To any outside observer it would look like a very friendly pat, but I feel the iron grip of her seemingly delicate fingers clamp down over my hoodie.
I’m trapped.
“Sure,” I say, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice. Whatever plans she has, I don’t want any part of them. I know that. But I have no choice.
She tugs me into the next classroom over. I can tell it’s not used often. The desks here are still lined up neatly, but the chairs have been placed upside-down on top of them, their metal legs sticking straight up. I feel a slight rush of panic as the memory of the winter dance surfaces unwillingly to mind.
Was this it? The room where Jasper once cornered me, attacked me?
Just the thought makes me seize up, my feet cemented to the floor beneath me. Headmistress Robin takes the opportunity to slip around me and push the door shut behind us. At least she does us both the courtesy of flicking on the light so I can see the thick buildup of dust on the windowsills and along the floor.
From the single set of footprints leading inside, it looks like this room hasn’t been disturbed in months.
The realization brings me a brief sense of relief.This isn’t the room.
Still, that relief doesn’t last long.
Headmistress Robin grabs a chair and flips it one-handed to place it on the floor in front of her. “Have a seat,” she says in a friendly tone as she grabs another chair. I’m trapped, so with no other option, I do as she bids, putting my bag of food awkwardly in my lap.
She settles into the plastic student-sized chair and still manages to look regal doing so. By comparison, I probably look like a pile of abandoned laundry.
“How’s this semester been treating you, Alex?”
“Fine,” I mumble, grateful for once for a bit of small talk. I’m hoping it buys me a moment to figure out a plan of action. I have to find a way out of this. There has to be a way out of this.
I’ve been getting used to an uncomplicated semester. I want it to stay that way.
“That’s good to hear. Will you be participating in the annual challenge against my school?”
And now … now that catches me off guard. So much for composing myself.
I have no option now than to go with the truth, whatever that might mean for me.
“No,” I say, squirming under the intensity of her gaze. “There’s some other boys who are going to represent Bleakwood. I just want to focus on my studies.” I try to stress that last part, but I just end up sounding scared.
She smiles, and it’s not friendly. “Admirable of you. I’d love to see you succeed and graduate from Bleakwood. It would be a shame if the dean were to find out about your true identity and expel you.”
My stomach drops as she looks at me with that cold smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I thought she was getting to the point before. Now, now she’s just being brutal about it.
All I can do is nod and do my best to keep looking her in the eyes.
“Yeah. It would be.”
She cocks her head to one side. “Well, I think there’s a way you can help me, Alex,” she says, smoothing out some nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt. “There’s some information I need that I can’t get the dean to tell me.”
