Pressing my lips together, I concentrate on the words she just wrote, reading them over again. I start to write, not wanting to get into too much detail, just in case someone—Matthews—catches us passing notes and we get in trouble.
Let’s talk after detention. I can tell you what happened then.
I fold the note, then hold my left arm down straight, the paper pinched between my fingers. I let it fall at the same exact time a familiar voice yells out, “Headmaster Matthews!”
Dread fills me, my stomach churning, my sandwich threatening to come back up. It’s Elliot. I glance over at him to find him watching me, a smirk on his face, his eyes dancing. He’s ready to get me back for what I did to him earlier.
“Yes, Elliot?” Matthews asks.
“Sylvie and Summer are passing—”
Sylvie erupts into violent coughing. It’s loud. Bone rattling. I turn to her in concern to find her hunched over her desk, her hands covering her mouth, her entire body shaking. I slide out of my seat and go to her, resting my hand on her back. I can feel her trembling, the coughing continuous and Matthews rises from his seat, making his way over to us.
“Are you all right, Sylvie?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“She doesn’t sound all right,” I tell him, fear racing through my blood. She wasn’t lying. She sounds terrible, so she must be getting over something. She’s so small, so thin, I don’t know why she isn’t passing out from the exertion the coughing is taking.
“I—I am.” She wheezes. “I’m f-fine,” she gasps out.
“Let’s get you to the nurse’s office,” Matthews says, glancing around the classroom. “I’ll be right back.”
“You can’t leave, Mr. Matthews,” Sylvie says. Her voice is scratchy, the words like air. No substance. “I-I can walk there by m-myself.”
She starts coughing again. I glance around the room, noting the expressions on everyone’s faces. Most of them seem completely unaffected, as if they’ve witnessed this sort of thing before, and they’re bored.
“Absolutely not. Someone needs to accompany you.” His gaze lands on me. “Will you walk her, Summer?”
I can’t even believe he’s going to let me. Elliot was fully prepared to rat us out, and now Matthews is letting us leave. “Yes, sir.”
“Drop her off and come right back. That should take you no longer than fifteen minutes. Understood?” He sends me a look.
I nod.
Sylvie gathers her things and I wait for her, concern making me want to tell her to stop. I’ll help her, though she suddenly seems perfectly capable. Matthews heads back to his desk, sitting down, his gaze zeroing in on the boy who was about to snitch on our note passing. “Did you have something to say, Elliot?”
“Never mind,” he mutters, sulking. “Doesn’t matter.”
We leave the classroom, Elliot’s gaze never leaving us, a scowl on his handsome face. He’s mad. I can tell, but I don’t care.
Clearly neither does Sylvie.
The moment we walk down the flight of stairs and head for the exit, Sylvie breathes deep, flashing me a smile.
“That hurt like hell, but it was worth it to get out of there,” she says.
I push open the door and we walk through it, the breeze and waning sunshine greeting us. “Did you just cough like that as a diversion?”
“I had to. Elliot was going to tell Matthews what we were doing,” she says, as if her coughing fit was the logical choice.
“Sounded painful.”
“It was awful. But again, worth it.” She steers me to the right, toward the administration building. “Got me out of detention at least. Sorry that you have to go back.”
“I’d rather get a break than stay there the whole time. I was getting sleepy.”
“It’s the most boring thing in the world. Sucks that Matthews sits there and plays on his phone the entire time. It’s like he does it on purpose,” she says.
“I’m sure he does.” I hesitate. “Does he always supervise detention?”
“Yeah. I think it gives him a thrill, torturing us.”
“I had the same thought.”
Sylvie comes to a stop just outside the admin building, reaching out to touch my arm and causing me to stop too. “Is Whit making your life a living hell on campus?”
I nod. Her kind eyes and low tone could almost make me start to cry if I don’t watch it.
She blows out a breath, gazing toward the chapel. “He loves nothing more than torturing a girl he’s interested in. He’s done it before. He’s like that boy in first grade who chases you and hits you, but he actually really likes you.”
“He’s not interested in me. Not like that,” I say firmly, the lies falling easily from my lips. He might dislike me, but he’s definitely interested in me. “He hates me for what my mother did with your father.”
“His hatred is aimed in the wrong direction. He should be mad at our dad.”
“He’s also mad at me.”
“Whit is loyal to a fault. That includes being loyal to our mother, even though she’s a snake, always lying in wait and coiled to strike,” Sylvie says bitterly.
I’m taken aback by her tone, her words. I’ve never heard anyone say anything bad about Elise Lancaster before. All details shared about the Lancaster divorce painted Augustus as a man who couldn’t keep it in his pants—ever—and his wife is the patron saint of the family.
“I don’t understand why Elliot was so ready to tell on us,” Sylvie continues as we get closer to the building. “He’s a friend of Whit’s. Meaning he shouldn’t be so quick to get me in trouble.”
I explain to her what happened earlier. How Elliot grabbed me, and I kneed him in the balls to get free. I don’t go into detail about my encounter with her brother, or the things we said to each other.
That incident doesn’t matter.
“Oh my God, that is so awesome,” Sylvie says with relish once I’m finished explaining. “He fell onto the ground? Really?”
The wind picks up, whipping across us, and I glance up to see clouds rolling in the sky, black and foreboding. “He dropped like a sack of potatoes.”
We both start laughing and it feels so good, so light. The lightest moment I’ve had since arriving here. Until Sylvie’s laugh turns into a cough and she covers her mouth, her chest heaving with exertion.
“We can’t laugh,” I tell her, smoothing my hand down her arm. “Come on. It’s getting cold out here. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”
“I’ll tell my brother to call off his dogs,” she says as we enter the building. “He’s not playing fair. Though he never does, so this shouldn’t surprise me.”
I say nothing. She can ask him to call off his supposed dogs, but I don’t believe it’ll happen. He won’t be happy until I’m gone from this campus. And even then, my leaving still probably wouldn’t satisfy him.
Once I make sure Sylvie is under the nurse’s care, I hurriedly make my way back to the detention classroom, practically sprinting. No way do I want to get more detentions because I took longer than I should’ve. I breeze into the room, nodding in Matthews’ direction when he lifts his gaze to me. He says nothing.