near tears, some complaining to the person behind them about how their roommate is the worst . Renee Linden must find their problems exhausting, because when it’s my turn, she calls out “Next!” in a harried voice.
Renee Linden is tiny. Tiny enough to shop in the juniors section. Her desk is a shrine to her children; I count three of them as I take a seat across from her.
She looks at me and forces a smile—it’s not unkind, but she obviously wants to get rid of me quickly.
“I don’t know you,” she says. “How come?”
“I’m new,” I say. “Or I was last year. I’m Anne Dowling.”
Renee’s eyebrows lift a bit. “I do know you. I placed you in a room with Isabella Fernandez. Some year you must have had, huh?”
I don’t miss the way Renee has leaned forward in her chair. I can practically smell the curiosity coming off of her. She reminds me of my mom’s friend Stacy, who always pulls me aside at dinner parties. Your mom sure loves her Chardonnay, huh? Stacy will talk shit about anyone as long as she can sniff out someone who’s willing to participate.
I’m getting a very similar vibe from Renee Linden.
“Yeah.” I throw in a nervous laugh. “Isabella was … well, I’m sure you’ve heard.”
Renee’s eyes glint greedily. “It’s always the ones you don’t expect, right?”
I want to reach across and shake her, ask her what type of sixteen-year-old, exactly, she would expect to be statutorily raped and murdered by a teacher. But I clutch my armrests and give her a grim smile. “That’s kind of why I’m here,” I say. “I have a college interview with a Wheatley alum, but I kinda want to cancel because she just seems … I don’t know, weird? And I heard you were her RA, so I figured you may know her well.”
“Oh yeah, I was an RA for two years.” Renee beams. “Who is she?”
“Caroline Cormier-Frey.”
“Oh, do I know her.” Renee has completely forgotten about the line of students outside her office. “Caroline. Huh. Wow.”
I lower my voice. “I heard she attacked her roommate.”
“Uh-huh.” Renee’s voice tells me this isn’t the first time she’s told this story. “Looked like a cat pounced on poor Natalie’s face. When girls fight, they can be vicious .”
I don’t say it, but I’ve had the urge to drag my fingernails down another girl’s face. Caroline’s own cousin, nonetheless. Maybe that makes me vicious, too.
“Why would Caroline hurt her friend?” I ask. “They were friends, right?”
“Natalie was her only friend. That was the problem.”
“Oh. So Caroline was a stage five clinger?”
“Something like that. Caroline had a lot of trouble fitting in, and Natalie eventually found her own group. Caroline probably couldn’t take the rejection. Poor thing hasn’t had an easy life.”
I wonder what qualifies as a difficult life for a Wheatley alum. Purebred stallion never placed at the Massachusetts derby? Then I remember that Alexis said Caroline’s father died, and I feel like an awful person. “Sounds sad.”
“It really is.” Renee makes a sympathetic face. “The reason Caroline went after Natalie in the first place is because Nat requested a room change.”
And now any kinship I felt with Caroline Cormier-Frey is lost. I mean, I had the urge to attack Alexis because she started a rumor that I’d killed my own roommate. But drawing blood over wanting to move out?
I’d hate to think what Caroline’s capable of if someone really screwed her.
“Hey, Ms. Linden,” I say, before I get up. She holds up a hand. “Call me Renee.”
“Okay. I was kind of hoping to talk to Natalie, but I don’t know what happened to her. Does she have family in the area or anything?”
“I know she had a brother,” Renee says. “Liam? Lucas? I can’t remember. Why do you want to talk to Natalie, anyway? Can’t you just change your interview?”
I smile. “I don’t think I can, actually.”
In history, I whisper to
Renee Linden is tiny. Tiny enough to shop in the juniors section. Her desk is a shrine to her children; I count three of them as I take a seat across from her.
She looks at me and forces a smile—it’s not unkind, but she obviously wants to get rid of me quickly.
“I don’t know you,” she says. “How come?”
“I’m new,” I say. “Or I was last year. I’m Anne Dowling.”
Renee’s eyebrows lift a bit. “I do know you. I placed you in a room with Isabella Fernandez. Some year you must have had, huh?”
I don’t miss the way Renee has leaned forward in her chair. I can practically smell the curiosity coming off of her. She reminds me of my mom’s friend Stacy, who always pulls me aside at dinner parties. Your mom sure loves her Chardonnay, huh? Stacy will talk shit about anyone as long as she can sniff out someone who’s willing to participate.
I’m getting a very similar vibe from Renee Linden.
“Yeah.” I throw in a nervous laugh. “Isabella was … well, I’m sure you’ve heard.”
Renee’s eyes glint greedily. “It’s always the ones you don’t expect, right?”
I want to reach across and shake her, ask her what type of sixteen-year-old, exactly, she would expect to be statutorily raped and murdered by a teacher. But I clutch my armrests and give her a grim smile. “That’s kind of why I’m here,” I say. “I have a college interview with a Wheatley alum, but I kinda want to cancel because she just seems … I don’t know, weird? And I heard you were her RA, so I figured you may know her well.”
“Oh yeah, I was an RA for two years.” Renee beams. “Who is she?”
“Caroline Cormier-Frey.”
“Oh, do I know her.” Renee has completely forgotten about the line of students outside her office. “Caroline. Huh. Wow.”
I lower my voice. “I heard she attacked her roommate.”
“Uh-huh.” Renee’s voice tells me this isn’t the first time she’s told this story. “Looked like a cat pounced on poor Natalie’s face. When girls fight, they can be vicious .”
I don’t say it, but I’ve had the urge to drag my fingernails down another girl’s face. Caroline’s own cousin, nonetheless. Maybe that makes me vicious, too.
“Why would Caroline hurt her friend?” I ask. “They were friends, right?”
“Natalie was her only friend. That was the problem.”
“Oh. So Caroline was a stage five clinger?”
“Something like that. Caroline had a lot of trouble fitting in, and Natalie eventually found her own group. Caroline probably couldn’t take the rejection. Poor thing hasn’t had an easy life.”
I wonder what qualifies as a difficult life for a Wheatley alum. Purebred stallion never placed at the Massachusetts derby? Then I remember that Alexis said Caroline’s father died, and I feel like an awful person. “Sounds sad.”
“It really is.” Renee makes a sympathetic face. “The reason Caroline went after Natalie in the first place is because Nat requested a room change.”
And now any kinship I felt with Caroline Cormier-Frey is lost. I mean, I had the urge to attack Alexis because she started a rumor that I’d killed my own roommate. But drawing blood over wanting to move out?
I’d hate to think what Caroline’s capable of if someone really screwed her.
“Hey, Ms. Linden,” I say, before I get up. She holds up a hand. “Call me Renee.”
“Okay. I was kind of hoping to talk to Natalie, but I don’t know what happened to her. Does she have family in the area or anything?”
“I know she had a brother,” Renee says. “Liam? Lucas? I can’t remember. Why do you want to talk to Natalie, anyway? Can’t you just change your interview?”
I smile. “I don’t think I can, actually.”
In history, I whisper to
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