the words, like at night when I can’t sleep and I try to guess what song is playing on Orla’s radio.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said with a long sigh. ‘It’s just that I told one person and look what happened? I guess that explains why Sam Wolfe just commented on my short skirt. I thought he was taking the piss because it was from Primark,’ she said with a huff. ‘Oh well. Looks like I’ve been upgraded from the Girl With the Cheap Clothes to the Girl Who Was Raped.’
She made an excuse then and hung up. When she did, my mouth was so dry, I downed the glass of water on my desk in a few gulps. I was still struggling to catch my breath when I heard a knock on my door and had to wait a second before I could say, ‘Come in.’
Orla edged in, her face flushed, and when she closed the door behind her, I stood up, a little startled. She hadn’t been in my room since the day I started at Crofton.
‘Are you OK, Orla?’
She clearly wasn’t, her hands were shaking as she tucked her blond hair behind her ears. ‘Were you just talking to Chloe Poole?’
‘How did you know that?’ I asked and her cheeks went from pink to red.
‘I was just walking past and—’
‘Were you listening?’ I stepped forward. This place is like a damn goldfish bowl. ‘That was a private conversation, Orla. How dare you? What did you hear?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, shoulders shuddering, then she dissolved into tears. I felt awful for snapping at her, but when I went to reach for her hand, she wouldn’t let me touch her. ‘You know, don’t you? Everyone knows!’
‘Know what?’ I asked, but when she lifted her sticky eyelashes to look at me I knew.
I knew before she said it.
‘That I was raped.’
2 DAYS AFTER
MAY
Scarlett isn’t back.
I don’t know how Molly knew that Scarlett’s parents were doing an appeal on BBC Breakfast this morning but, just before it started at 6 a.m., I could hear her opening doors and waking everyone up. I didn’t want to watch it in the Common Room with everyone, but Orla made me, saying it would look bad if I didn’t. So I checked my other cellphone again and when I discovered that he still hadn’t called me back, I reluctantly joined the sleepy shuffle down the stairs into the Common Room.
It filled up quickly, girls chomping on slices of toast and passing around mugs of tea as though we were waiting for Saturday Film Club to start, not waiting to hear what had happened to one of our school friends. I sat huddled next to Orla on the couch, cupping a mug of tea in my hands while Molly sat cross-legged in her pyjamas on the coffee table.
‘This is it,’ she said with the air of a girl about to be made queen, ‘we knew it was going to happen.’ She looked around to check that everyone was listening and when she got to me, her gaze narrowed. Perhaps I didn’t look as awed as the other girls, or maybe she was concerned that with Scarlett gone, I was going to make a grab for the throne as well.
I glared at her until she turned back to the television. ‘You can’t keep running away like that. Something was bound to happen.’ She flicked her hair. ‘Daddy says the police are putting MISSING posters up in Marlborough this morning. He just saw someone walking around with a pile of them. They’ve used last year’s class photo.’
My stomach clenched so suddenly I thought I was going to be sick. ‘Posters?’ I sat forward, tea spilling over my knuckles, but I didn’t feel it as I asked myself why I didn’t talk to Olivia yesterday.
I should have talked to Olivia yesterday.
Molly didn’t acknowledge me. ‘They’ve never put up posters before, have they?’ she went on, and the urge to reach over and push her off the coffee table was unbearable. ‘She’s usually back before they’ve finished printing them.’
A girl began crying and I felt another long roll of nausea. Molly was enjoying it too much, her shoulders back, as though we were gathered around a campfire and she
‘I’m sorry,’ she said with a long sigh. ‘It’s just that I told one person and look what happened? I guess that explains why Sam Wolfe just commented on my short skirt. I thought he was taking the piss because it was from Primark,’ she said with a huff. ‘Oh well. Looks like I’ve been upgraded from the Girl With the Cheap Clothes to the Girl Who Was Raped.’
She made an excuse then and hung up. When she did, my mouth was so dry, I downed the glass of water on my desk in a few gulps. I was still struggling to catch my breath when I heard a knock on my door and had to wait a second before I could say, ‘Come in.’
Orla edged in, her face flushed, and when she closed the door behind her, I stood up, a little startled. She hadn’t been in my room since the day I started at Crofton.
‘Are you OK, Orla?’
She clearly wasn’t, her hands were shaking as she tucked her blond hair behind her ears. ‘Were you just talking to Chloe Poole?’
‘How did you know that?’ I asked and her cheeks went from pink to red.
‘I was just walking past and—’
‘Were you listening?’ I stepped forward. This place is like a damn goldfish bowl. ‘That was a private conversation, Orla. How dare you? What did you hear?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, shoulders shuddering, then she dissolved into tears. I felt awful for snapping at her, but when I went to reach for her hand, she wouldn’t let me touch her. ‘You know, don’t you? Everyone knows!’
‘Know what?’ I asked, but when she lifted her sticky eyelashes to look at me I knew.
I knew before she said it.
‘That I was raped.’
2 DAYS AFTER
MAY
Scarlett isn’t back.
I don’t know how Molly knew that Scarlett’s parents were doing an appeal on BBC Breakfast this morning but, just before it started at 6 a.m., I could hear her opening doors and waking everyone up. I didn’t want to watch it in the Common Room with everyone, but Orla made me, saying it would look bad if I didn’t. So I checked my other cellphone again and when I discovered that he still hadn’t called me back, I reluctantly joined the sleepy shuffle down the stairs into the Common Room.
It filled up quickly, girls chomping on slices of toast and passing around mugs of tea as though we were waiting for Saturday Film Club to start, not waiting to hear what had happened to one of our school friends. I sat huddled next to Orla on the couch, cupping a mug of tea in my hands while Molly sat cross-legged in her pyjamas on the coffee table.
‘This is it,’ she said with the air of a girl about to be made queen, ‘we knew it was going to happen.’ She looked around to check that everyone was listening and when she got to me, her gaze narrowed. Perhaps I didn’t look as awed as the other girls, or maybe she was concerned that with Scarlett gone, I was going to make a grab for the throne as well.
I glared at her until she turned back to the television. ‘You can’t keep running away like that. Something was bound to happen.’ She flicked her hair. ‘Daddy says the police are putting MISSING posters up in Marlborough this morning. He just saw someone walking around with a pile of them. They’ve used last year’s class photo.’
My stomach clenched so suddenly I thought I was going to be sick. ‘Posters?’ I sat forward, tea spilling over my knuckles, but I didn’t feel it as I asked myself why I didn’t talk to Olivia yesterday.
I should have talked to Olivia yesterday.
Molly didn’t acknowledge me. ‘They’ve never put up posters before, have they?’ she went on, and the urge to reach over and push her off the coffee table was unbearable. ‘She’s usually back before they’ve finished printing them.’
A girl began crying and I felt another long roll of nausea. Molly was enjoying it too much, her shoulders back, as though we were gathered around a campfire and she
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