The Headmaster's List Page 5

  As Olivia guided her to where their new lockers would be for the year, Ripley made sure to keep the swell of students crowding through the halls at bay, a trained behavior that Spencer was more than a little thankful for. Obviously, people stared, both at Spencer and at the dog at her side. The crowd often parted like the Red Sea to get a better look. The flush on her cheeks stung. Her first day was already starting to be more overwhelming than she expected. The first thing she saw was a reminder of the crash.

  A locker in the middle of the hall was covered in posters and flowers, messages left behind for Chris.

  NEVER FORGOTTEN

  MISS YOU FOREVER

  LOVED YOUR SMILE

  A group of sophomore girls stood in a circle close by, comforting another who was in tears, sobbing as mascara streaked down her cheeks. “I just m-miss him so m-much!” Her shoulders bounced with each hiccup.

  Spencer kept her head low as she walked past. Chris’s school photo was featured on a huge poster, smiling at her from the grave. He looked so young, especially for being only fifteen. It was a bitter reminder that he had just been a kid. Her stomach was threatening to rebel against her breakfast, but she kept walking. Everyone stared. She saw a couple of people wearing buttons with Chris’s name on them. Voices carried, despite being hidden behind hands.

  “—see her face?”

  “Ethan’s girlfriend—”

  “Can’t believe she’s here…”

  Spencer kept her focus firmly on the polished tile floors beneath her every footstep. Ripley bumped into her, encouraging her to keep going. Olivia eventually showed them to Spencer’s new locker, conveniently right in front of the library entrance, and as expected, it was right next to Olivia’s because of their last names. Spencer was grateful for the things that stayed the same today. No surprises.

  Spencer gathered her things for homeroom. Per tradition, Olivia and Spencer had synchronized their schedule, taking all the same classes, the only exception being homeroom—art for Olivia and study hour in the library for Spencer.

  It took three tries doing her combination before Spencer got the locker open. She kept getting distracted by the unnerving feeling of stares on the back of her head.

  “Just ignore them,” Olivia murmured, gathering her acrylics from her decorated locker. This year’s theme was apparently cottage core aesthetic, complete with a real daisy chain and pressed flowers on colorful construction paper collages taped to the back of the door. She always took the time to make her locker look pretty, saying it was a way to decompress in the middle of institutionalized academia designed to brainwash her into corporate life.

  Spencer, however, liked the routine and schedule of school. Her binders were always color coordinated based on the subject, her notes meticulously organized and filed, and who didn’t love a brand-new set of stationery at the beginning of the year? As words such as “anal-retentive” were thrown a lot whenever her name was brought up, Spencer preferred the term “chronically prepared.”

  Ripley pressed her body up against the back of Spencer’s thighs, a gentle reminder that she was there, and Spencer nodded to Olivia, unable to find words that didn’t make her feel like puking. She wanted to talk about the crash, about how it didn’t feel right, but she didn’t know where to begin. The bubble of anxiety in her chest was about to burst.

  Before she could say anything, though, Olivia switched gears. “So, birthday.”

  Spencer was relieved for a subject change. She’d almost forgotten. “Right! Did you have anything in mind? How do you want to celebrate the big one-eight?” Olivia’s birthday was at the end of October, but she liked planning for it ahead of time, for once taking a page out of Spencer’s book.

  “I’m thinking a huge party, maybe in Malibu? Vegan barbecue and a chocolate fountain, and a DJ. Maybe a bonfire? We can have them at Carillo Beach. I haven’t decided yet.”

  Spencer let Olivia talk but tried not to show the twitch forming near her eye. The idea of a party right now, especially after what happened the night of the crash, set her teeth on edge. She couldn’t tell Olivia no, though. Best friends don’t not show up for a birthday party. It wasn’t her party; she didn’t get to decide what it would be. But she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping to spend it as a night in with Olivia and a handful of friends ordering pizza and playing video games all night.

  “Sounds great, Liv…,” Spencer said, hiding the edge in her voice as best she could. “I can’t wait.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes, grinning. “I know, I should just lean into the whole Halloween thing and do costumes, but I want something new. Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m being a cliché having my birthday on the beach. But I figure I only have so long to live out my dreams of kissing people by the ocean with a full moon high in the sky like in a high school rom-com!”

  Just after the first bell, a voice came on over the sound system. “Good morning, Armstrong Eagles! Spencer Sandoval, please report to the headmaster’s office. Spencer Sandoval.”

  “Uh-oh!” some guy called down the hall, jeering. “Someone’s in truh-bul.” A smattering of laughter followed.

  Another voice called, “Your boyfriend better not’ve killed anyone else!”

  Spencer went rigid, the muscles in her back seizing up. She closed her eyes and tried to quell the panic rising in her chest.

  Scream. Float. Crash.

  SPENCER!

  Objectively she knew that wasn’t why she had been called to see the headmaster. Her rational mind understood it was unlikely. But her body was trying to convince her that she was back in the car, going too fast, crashing. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Ripley tapped her cold nose on Spencer’s palm, and it snapped her out of it long enough to remember to breathe.

  “Shut up!” Olivia called at the heckler, which was only followed by more laughter. “Don’t you have a bridge to live under, troll?”

  “It’s fine, Liv,” Spencer said, slamming her locker shut. “I’ll see you in physics.”

  SIX

  IT GOT EASIER AND EASIER to make her way to the administrative office as people hurried to homeroom, clearing the path for her all the way to the west wing of the building.

  Before she could open the door it swung away from her, and she nearly crashed into someone coming out. She took a faltering step back and said, “Hi, Tabby.”

  Tabby’s expression morphed from startled to shocked to disgust in the fraction of a second upon seeing Spencer.

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  That was not the kind of greeting Spencer expected. Tabby Hill’s face was a sickly shade of yellow, an attempt to cover the obvious bruise that remained from the crash, the makeup only hiding so much. Like their namesake, Tabby glared at Spencer through a sharp wing of cat-eye eyeliner.

  Tabby looked down at Ripley with a scowl, then looked at Spencer like she was something unpleasant that had crawled out of a swamp. “See you’re taken care of, huh. Must be nice.”

  The new kid at Armstrong, having enrolled mid-spring last year, Tabby was also on the Headmaster’s List, an accomplishment in such a short amount of time, probably thanks to her parents being one of the biggest donors in the Headmaster’s Circle. Like that podcast noted, money made things happen at Armstrong.

  Tabby was in a different social circle from Spencer, usually hanging out with the emo and theater kids behind school near the emergency exit to vape and watch YouTube videos between classes. To be honest, Spencer didn’t consider Tabby a friend, but rather they were friendly toward each other. At least that’s what Spencer always thought. Now she wasn’t so sure. Tabby’s attitude was frigid at best.

  The way Tabby looked at Ripley made Spencer prickle, like Ripley was annoying or being a nuisance even though she was just standing there.

  Spencer didn’t know how to react. Did Tabby have some problem with her service dog? Her grip tightened instinctively on the leash.

  Tabby didn’t say anything else, just waited, staring Spencer down with a twist of the lips and folding their arms across their chest. At first, Spencer’s mind went blank, processing what to do, until she decided to step aside. Apparently, that was what they had wanted all along.

  Tabby pushed past Spencer and marched out of the administrative office, long black hair swinging. Spencer stared at the back of their head, wondering just what the problem was, but headed into the office.

  The admin assistant, Mrs. Ross—a little old lady with round, Coke bottle glasses, barely tall enough to see over the counter where she sat—told Spencer that Dr. Diamond, the headmaster, was expecting her and that she could just “head on back there, okay, sweetie?”

  When she did just that, Dr. Diamond, headmaster at Armstrong Prep for the past ten years, looked up from behind his grand oak desk, framed beneath a whole wall of books and accolades and awards from his tenure teaching at Oxford before taking up the task of molding the minds of future leaders in sunny California. His accent still had a hint of London in it when he spoke. He reminded Spencer of a chipmunk wearing a tweed coat, like something out of a children’s picture book. He smiled at her and beckoned her to sit in one of the upholstered chairs in front of his desk.

  Among his books were framed pictures of all the students on the List. It was a way for him to show off his best students, an academic humble brag of sorts, like a parent proud of their children. Spencer spotted a photo of herself in action, taken from field hockey state champs last year, mid-throw. If she could say so herself, she thought it was quite a good shot. She looked strong. The newest addition to the collection was Tabby’s, with their acting headshot, looking as glamorous as an old Hollywood starlet.

  Next, there was Jackson’s photo. He was goalkeeper for the varsity soccer team, his gaze focused on a penalty kick coming from just out of frame, his gloved hands raised as he readied to leap. The shelf where one would normally see Ethan’s photo celebrating a goal he’d just scored, clipped from the front page of the Daily News, was vacant.

  “Good to see you’re back on your feet, Miss Sandoval,” Dr. Diamond said. Then he held up a finger as he paused, reared back, and sneezed loudly into the crook of his arm. It was so loud, Spencer actually flinched. She couldn’t help it—loud noises had that effect on her these days.

  “Excuse me,” he said, sniffling.

  Spencer hated that even the silliest thing like a sneeze could get her heart racing. Ripley rested her chin on Spencer’s knee, grounding her back to reality. She was safe, everything was fine. She hoped he didn’t notice how panicked she felt.

  “I apologize,” he said. He blew his nose into a tissue taken from a box on his desk. “I am terribly allergic to dogs.”

  Horrified, Spencer immediately moved to get up. “Oh, I’m—”

  Dr. Diamond held up his hand. “Please, Miss Sandoval. It’s no trouble at all. No trouble whatsoever. I understand your circumstance and support it fully. Ripley—is it?—is more than welcome in this building if it means your mental health is cared for. I’m afraid my own shortcomings are no fault of yours.” He smiled but he sounded muffled, as his nose clogged up and his eyes watered.

  Spencer smiled appreciatively, but she knew it came off as looking pained. The last thing she wanted was for someone’s throat to close up because of her.

  “How are you feeling being back at school?” he asked, swiping the tissue back and forth across his nose before throwing it into the wastebasket.

  Spencer wanted to be honest, that being back at Armstrong was emotional to say the least, but she didn’t want to admit to feeling like she was weak, or that she was seeking attention, or that she needed pity. She put on her best smile and said, “It’s fine.” She didn’t want to think about Chris’s decorated locker, or the girls crying in the hallway, or the stares that followed her wherever she went.

  “If there’s anything else I can do to accommodate for your condition, I’ll be sure all the faculty know. No one should bother you about Ripley, either. Your doctor explained everything to me about your condition. If you need to step out of class at any time, take a break, as it were, feel free. Just don’t go off campus or interrupt any other classes. Knowing you all these years, though, I don’t imagine I have to worry about that.” He sniffled and scrubbed his nose with pinched fingers, and it made a noise like a suction cup. “We want to keep our top student safe.”

  Spencer’s cheeks grew warm. It was nice being reminded that all her hard work paid off.

  “It’s a terrible tragedy what happened to young Chris. I didn’t know him that well, but he was a good boy. I know his family, his father is a fine teacher. He was a promising student, although he wasn’t List material. Chris will be missed. Did you know him? Was he your friend?”

  Spencer shifted in her chair. “Um, no. Not really.” Chris was a freshman, and while she saw him around, she wouldn’t go as far as to say they were friends.

  “Ah. Well! So it goes.” He sneezed again.

  “Gesundheit,” said Spencer.

  When people found out that Chris was practically a stranger to her, it changed the narrative that many of them had formed about the crash in their heads. Questions swirled. Why was Chris in the car with Ethan anyway? Ethan was a popular senior; Chris wasn’t at that level. It didn’t make sense.

  “Thank you.” He blew his nose again but sounded too congested for anything to come out. “Even so, I’m not sure you’ve been made aware, but the school is hosting a small memorial service for Chris this Wednesday. A small garden has been built in his memory and we wanted you to say a few words at the candlelight vigil.”

  Spencer’s stomach clenched. “I’m not sure I’m the best person to…” The thought of a hundred eyes on her, inevitably thinking the same things: that she had been in the car with Chris, that her boyfriend had gotten him killed, that she got to stand there now, alive, while Chris … It made her feel like crawling out of her skin.

  Dr. Diamond continued, “Of course, we had discussed it, figuring since you were headed toward valedictorian status that you could take up the task. And we assumed since you were in the car with him that you were friends—”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Diamond. I don’t know if I can handle doing something like that right now.” Her voice wobbled like a plane in turbulence. She hadn’t meant to cut him off so abruptly, but the walls were closing in on her.

  She knew the school wanted to trot her out like they always did. As one of the few brown kids at Armstrong, let alone a brown kid with one of the highest GPAs, Spencer was the face of their hastily put together DEIJ initiative. She never felt more like a scholarship student than when she saw her face plastered all over the banners that hung all over the school, or in every brochure. If you clicked on the school website, her picture was on the home page. Ethan used to joke she was Armstrong’s only student.

  Dr. Diamond watched her with sympathy, folding his lips together in resignation. “I see. That’s disappointing. If you can’t perform your duties as ambassador to student affairs, we can ask Hailey Reed instead. She’s been eager to be more involved. It would only be natural for you to step down from the position. Though I don’t imagine it would look too good on college applications if you did…”

  Spencer clenched her jaw. Caltech would wonder why she couldn’t handle basic extracurricular responsibilities. Holding that over her head felt like a low blow, especially after what happened, but she couldn’t say anything. He knew he had her. Not only that, but for Hailey Reed to replace her in yet another realm of Spencer’s life … She tried not to think about finding Hailey with Ethan that night of the crash, but a simmering heat had taken up a permanent place behind her sternum.

  Dr. Diamond smiled and went on. “Either way, we would love for you to be in attendance. I’m sure his parents would appreciate it.”

  Spencer highly doubted that. If she was in their shoes, she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to get out of bed again. But she didn’t say anything to contradict him. He was too busy honking into a handkerchief to notice the queasy look on her face.

  He clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “It’s been quite the start to our school year. One can only hope to move on for the better.”

  Spencer’s gaze flicked up to the empty spot where Ethan’s picture used to be. The headmaster too had written Ethan off. He was an embarrassment, a loser, no longer wanted. One mistake too many.

  Dr. Diamond continued without noticing the sour look on her face. “I understand that you don’t want to speak at the ceremony; however, we need some photographs of him for the stage. Our printing staff will need high-quality photos and his family has already approved the request. We just need someone to pick them up, and seeing as you live close by, I assumed it wouldn’t be an issue for you to take up the task.”

  “You want me to go to his house?” Spencer asked.

  “Yes, is that a problem?”

  Spencer’s whole life was defined by trying not to be a problem. She even felt bad that she had inconvenienced the nurses while she was in the hospital. But she also wasn’t one to say no to figures of authority, especially to someone like Dr. Diamond. She’d already said no to public speaking, so she couldn’t say no to going to the Moore house now. Why was she such a people pleaser?

  If she continued to disappoint, her spot on the Headmaster’s List could be in jeopardy, and with college acceptance on the line, she couldn’t risk it, not when there were others like Hailey who were so eager to take her place.

  But she had a history with the Moores. Not only was Mr. Moore her favorite teacher, but Chris’s older brother Nick used to babysit her and Hope when they were little. She couldn’t avoid them forever; she’d have to see them sometime. Better it be her than a complete stranger.

  “Um, no, I mean, I can do it,” she said. She hoped he could hear the discomfort in her tone, but he perked up and clapped his hands once.