me—specifically because I had made it so clear that I didn’t want to play. My uniqueness made me attractive. A challenge. Not to mention that I was possessed by Celia, and Mandy by Belle. But neither of us had known that when I first arrived at Marlwood.
As the tension mounted, Shayna and I planned our excursion to the old library in more detail. Shayna had a sense of mission, of purpose: avenging her former best friend, Kiyoko. I felt as if I were standing in front of an open grave, a shovel in my hand and a choice to be made—either I handed the shovel to Mandy and lay down in the dirt . . . or I hit her over the head with it and buried the evidence.
Please, please help me find a way out of this , I silently begged Shayna, at meals, between classes. Walking through the snow, staring at the white horse heads holding the thick white chain links in their mouths. Sitting in my room as Julie chattered obliviously on, while I watched the light shift on the ceramic head— or was it moving? —and the frozen figure in Mandy’s window.
Fog swirled, covering our faces, hiding us from one another. Girls started playing tricks on each other, sneaking up, jumping out and saying, “Boo!” Screaming “Marco! Polo!” and talking about ghosts. Marlwood was known to be haunted. Everyone said so. Many, if not most of us, of course, believed it.
THEN THE RAIN FINALLY CLEARED, and it was Prank Night.
That evening, after dinner, Ms. Krige shared some ginger-bread she’d made with her grandnieces in Portland, Oregon, and we brewed some spiced cider. As the evening stretched into Ms. Krige’s bedtime, eyes gleamed and girls grinned secretively to each other. A death-defying Mandy Winters prankapalooza was about to begin!
I had my excuse prepared: I was on probation. So I told Julie I wasn’t going.
“But Charlotte may need a lifeguard,” she argued.
“ You’ll be there. You’ll watch out for her.”
So as was our habit, Julie went to bed fully dressed, while I put on my camisole and plaid pajama bottoms, pretending to really go to sleep. I was exhausted, but I lay with my eyes wide open, trying to fake being asleep, trying even harder not to stare at the white head, which Julie had transferred to our nightstand because she was afraid it might fall off the windowsill and break. It was angled slightly toward me, and the moonlight glinted off its forehead as Julie quietly slipped out of bed and tested her flashlight.
I heard Ida and Claire giggling and whispering in the hall; someone was creeping down the stairs. Julie mentioned my name. Then silence. They were in the bathroom by then, easing up the sash of the wooden window frame. There was a boulder outside the window, very convenient for climbing down.
I checked the digital alarm clock. It was 10:45 p.m. I got up, dressed in tights and jeans, a long-underwear T-shirt, and my mom’s UCSD sweatshirt over that. Then I grabbed my army jacket, mittens, and a black knitted cap; also my flashlight and cell phone, even though there would probably be no reception. I just felt better having it with me.
I had to walk through the bathroom in the dark in order to get out the window. The five large tubs sat in the center of the large, white-tiled room, between the bank of sinks and the bathroom stalls. The showers were on the far wall, the single window above the large white wicker hamper for our towels. The window was cracked slightly open, making it easier to climb back into the dorm. I crawled onto the hamper, slid open the window, and slung my legs over onto the boulder. Then I dropped into the snow.
I gazed over at Jessel. The figure in Mandy’s window was still there, and chills washed over me as I looked away. I didn’t think that it was Celia’s reflection, but I didn’t know who—or what—it was. And I wasn’t about to investigate just then.
I hurried through Academy Quad toward the buildings with our classrooms. There was the commons, and behind it, our old
As the tension mounted, Shayna and I planned our excursion to the old library in more detail. Shayna had a sense of mission, of purpose: avenging her former best friend, Kiyoko. I felt as if I were standing in front of an open grave, a shovel in my hand and a choice to be made—either I handed the shovel to Mandy and lay down in the dirt . . . or I hit her over the head with it and buried the evidence.
Please, please help me find a way out of this , I silently begged Shayna, at meals, between classes. Walking through the snow, staring at the white horse heads holding the thick white chain links in their mouths. Sitting in my room as Julie chattered obliviously on, while I watched the light shift on the ceramic head— or was it moving? —and the frozen figure in Mandy’s window.
Fog swirled, covering our faces, hiding us from one another. Girls started playing tricks on each other, sneaking up, jumping out and saying, “Boo!” Screaming “Marco! Polo!” and talking about ghosts. Marlwood was known to be haunted. Everyone said so. Many, if not most of us, of course, believed it.
THEN THE RAIN FINALLY CLEARED, and it was Prank Night.
That evening, after dinner, Ms. Krige shared some ginger-bread she’d made with her grandnieces in Portland, Oregon, and we brewed some spiced cider. As the evening stretched into Ms. Krige’s bedtime, eyes gleamed and girls grinned secretively to each other. A death-defying Mandy Winters prankapalooza was about to begin!
I had my excuse prepared: I was on probation. So I told Julie I wasn’t going.
“But Charlotte may need a lifeguard,” she argued.
“ You’ll be there. You’ll watch out for her.”
So as was our habit, Julie went to bed fully dressed, while I put on my camisole and plaid pajama bottoms, pretending to really go to sleep. I was exhausted, but I lay with my eyes wide open, trying to fake being asleep, trying even harder not to stare at the white head, which Julie had transferred to our nightstand because she was afraid it might fall off the windowsill and break. It was angled slightly toward me, and the moonlight glinted off its forehead as Julie quietly slipped out of bed and tested her flashlight.
I heard Ida and Claire giggling and whispering in the hall; someone was creeping down the stairs. Julie mentioned my name. Then silence. They were in the bathroom by then, easing up the sash of the wooden window frame. There was a boulder outside the window, very convenient for climbing down.
I checked the digital alarm clock. It was 10:45 p.m. I got up, dressed in tights and jeans, a long-underwear T-shirt, and my mom’s UCSD sweatshirt over that. Then I grabbed my army jacket, mittens, and a black knitted cap; also my flashlight and cell phone, even though there would probably be no reception. I just felt better having it with me.
I had to walk through the bathroom in the dark in order to get out the window. The five large tubs sat in the center of the large, white-tiled room, between the bank of sinks and the bathroom stalls. The showers were on the far wall, the single window above the large white wicker hamper for our towels. The window was cracked slightly open, making it easier to climb back into the dorm. I crawled onto the hamper, slid open the window, and slung my legs over onto the boulder. Then I dropped into the snow.
I gazed over at Jessel. The figure in Mandy’s window was still there, and chills washed over me as I looked away. I didn’t think that it was Celia’s reflection, but I didn’t know who—or what—it was. And I wasn’t about to investigate just then.
I hurried through Academy Quad toward the buildings with our classrooms. There was the commons, and behind it, our old
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