he gestured behind him to one of the seated women who was small and older and looked quite nice “—will have her door open at any time and will be offering counseling. I advise everyone who wants to or needs to, to make an appointment with Dr. Morgan. It can’t hurt. And now, Dana Veers would like to say a few words on behalf of Miss Normandy’s parents.”
He stepped aside, and was quickly replaced by Dana. She peered out at the audience through her narrow eyes.
“So, we all know Becca is missing, but way too many people are just assuming she’s dead. Anyone who can should write to her on Facebook and beg her to come back. Because I am sure she is out there, and probably checking it. If there is any way that she might come home, we have to make her want to. Her parents and the police have pretty much given up hope.” She looked sick. “But I haven’t, and I hope the rest of you haven’t.” She glanced down to the front row.
Then, abruptly, she thanked us for our attention and went back to her seat.
I was horrified at how I’d acted the day before. Dana’s old roommate was missing. They had probably been friends.
Professor Andrews replaced her behind the stand. “Now Dr. Morgan has a few words she’d like to say, and then we’ll release you to go to your first classes. Dr. Morgan?”
The tiny woman shuffled up to take his place, pulling the microphone down to match her height.
“Hello, everyone.” She had a nasally English accent, and reminded me a little of the fairy godmother in Cinderella. “I know this is a very difficult time for each and every one of you, no matter how well you know Miss Normandy, or in what capacity. What you must remember is that you are all in this together. You are all going through something as one, unified group.” She grasped the air and made a fist, as though collecting all of our leashes. “If you need someone to talk to, you could simply look left or right, and find someone who knows what you’re going through.” She smiled tenderly. “Why don’t you do that now? Just look to the person sitting next to you, and tell them you’re here for them. Go ahead.”
There was a small murmur of reluctant participation, and some giggling. I looked to my left and saw the back of a girl’s head, and to my right to see a boy slouching in his seat and leaning his face on his fingers.
I faced forward.
“Good.” Dr. Morgan clasped her hands together. “Now take the hand of the person sitting next to you. Everyone, please?” She looked down at the front row, and with a surge I realized she was looking at me. Or … the boy next to me. “Mr. Holloway? You of all people …” She said the last part away from the microphone, but trailed off when the boy held out his hand for me to take. I put my hand in his.
As soon as we touched, it felt like an electrical current ran through me. I remembered the touch of the boy on the stairs the night before and wondered if this was him. I glanced sideways, not wanting to make it obvious that I was looking at him.
Dr. Morgan went on. “Now shut your eyes. And put yourself in the place that makes you the happiest.” She was silent a few seconds, and shushed the people who laughed. “Wonderful. Now take a deep breath, and think to yourself, I will get through this. I will get through this. I will get through this. Deep breath in … and now out.”
I was afraid my hand was clammy. Was I holding too hard? Did I seem eager?
“Good,” said Dr. Morgan.
At her word, the boy let go of my hand as though it had burned him.
“Remember that everyone around you understands, and that you are absolutely more than welcome to come visit with me. Over the next two weeks, I will be meeting with each one of you. We will discuss your plans for college, and anything else you might need to get off your chest. Thank you all for listening so carefully. Welcome back to Manderley, and if you’re just starting, then welcome to your new home.”
She smiled kindly, and went back to her seat as I and everyone else filled the room with the spattering of polite applause.
I was locked in my own head. There had been one spot at Manderley, and I’d gotten it. I was Rebecca’s old roommate’s new roommate, and the whole school was hoping she would come back at any second.
The boy next to me gave me a nod and then stood to leave.
Everything came together with a horrible lurch in my stomach. He was the one I’d run into on the stairs last night. Not only that, but the reason he was familiar was because he was the one pictured with Becca.
That startlingly handsome boy had been her boyfriend.
chapter 4 becca
ELEVEN O’CLOCK CAME. BECCA HAD ON A SHORT black pencil skirt and a low white tank top.
“I’m so glad you decided to come,” Becca said to Dana, as she sprayed her Givenchy perfume where it mattered: neck, wrists and boobs.
“Me, too.”
“Here, before everyone else drinks it all.” Becca took a swig of tequila and handed the bottle to Dana.
“Oh, no—”
“Oh, come on, please!”
Dana took a deep breath and then took a sip. Becca tipped the bottle a little higher and Dana gave a shriek as it filled her mouth and spilled onto her cheeks.
Becca laughed and handed her roommate some tissues.
They emerged from their room to find that every girl on the hall had put on their best outfit and stood waiting to be led. Madison and Julia were standing with big purses filled with cups and balls slung over their shoulders. Becca had her own bag, filled with all the liquor she had brought with her to Manderley.
“You really think we won’t get caught?” one of the girls asked.
“Oh, God no, we’re not getting caught.” She waved away the very idea. “Come on, stop worrying. You only live once, so live like it’s your last night. Okay? Let’s go.” She smiled at all of them. “Lead the way,” she said to Julia.
They walked down some side stairs and through an emergency exit that apparently didn’t set off any alarms anywhere.
“Where are we going?” Becca heard someone ask from behind her.
“The boathouse,” Julia answered, wielding a blue LED flashlight. “No one’s ever down there at night, and it’s out of view of all the teachers’ rooms. It’s the perfect place. I can’t believe we never did this before.”
They got down to the bottom of the stairs and to a small beach. There was some sand, but mostly a lot of rocks. In all, it looked like what you’d find at the bottom of a cartoon cliff.
Walking up to the boathouse, Julia pushed open a screen door, then a storm door. The light was already on and exposed a small house filled with dust and boating equipment. She wondered if she’d ever have to learn to use any of this stuff. Hopefully not.
“This place is disgusting,” Becca noted, not helping matters.
Some people were
