The Headmaster's List Page 6

  “Excellent! You’re one of the finest students at this school for a reason. Your strength and courage will be an inspiration to your classmates.”

  Spencer crinkled her nose. The last thing she wanted to be was an “inspiration.” She wished he had chosen a different word.

  “Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Spencer asked.

  “No, actually, I wanted to let you know that as well as having Ripley at your side, I’ve also arranged for a student to chaperone you while you recover. Someone who can assist you with your studies until you’re well enough to do so on your own. I had to make sure the right fit was in all the same classes that you were, make sure the schedules were lined up, so they had to be at the top of the List.”

  “Who?”

  “Ah, Mister Chen, right on time.”

  Spencer twisted in her chair to see that Jackson had appeared in the doorway, his hand hovering on the doorframe, prepared to knock. He looked worried that he’d interrupted.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I was told to come in—”

  “Yes, indeed. Not a problem! Miss Sandoval and I were just talking about you. She would likely appreciate your help getting to first period.”

  Jackson’s cheeks pinked but he smiled at her.

  Spencer thanked the headmaster for his time and stood up, leaving Dr. Diamond sneezing as she followed Jackson, who had offered to carry her backpack for her. They left the office and headed toward the library together.

  “So!” Jackson said, bridging the gap of silence between them. Spencer was still chewing on her unsaid words to Dr. Diamond. “I guess we should get started then, right?”

  She nodded, gnawing on her lip.

  Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s awkward. They asked me to and—”

  “No, it’s fine. Really. Thanks. I’m just getting used to a lot of things all at once.”

  Jackson let out a breath. “Yeah. I get it.”

  She knew he really did. “I have to grab something I forgot in my locker.”

  Jackson jutted his thumb over his shoulder, still carrying her bag. “Okay, I’ll meet you in the library.”

  Spencer hurried to her locker, Ripley’s nails clicking on the tile along her side, and threw the door open. She wasn’t upset that she needed help from Jackson; in fact, she was grateful that he was paired with her, but she was upset that so much had changed in such a short amount of time. Her independence was slipping away from her bit by bit, like water from a leaky tap, and she just wanted things to go back to the way she had planned. She wasn’t ready to let go of her old life just yet.

  She uncapped the orange pill bottle and popped one of the painkillers in her mouth. Things were starting to hurt again.

  SEVEN

  SPENCER STRUGGLED ALL DAY, DESPITE Jackson and Olivia’s help and all her meds.

  She spent the whole first period in the library with Jackson, sitting diagonally across from each other at a workstation underneath the glass ceiling, her favorite spot in first period. While she caught up on her required reading for English, a slog through Crime and Punishment, Jackson finished his essay for AP psychology on his laptop, his keystrokes a soothing rhythm in the quiet of the library. He’d agreed to share all his notes with her, sparing her the arduous task of deciphering his “terrible, godawful, embarrassing handwriting” (his own words), which lightened the mood. He’d be sitting with her in every class, ready to add any notes that she felt necessary. Because first period went so well, she expected the rest of the day would go by just the same, sailing through second period physics class, getting into the swing of things with Ripley nearby.

  In third period, history class, Spencer met their new teacher, Mrs. McNamara. She’d be replacing Mr. Moore. He would not be returning to teach for the remainder of the year.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Spencer,” she said, smiling when Spencer walked in the door. Mrs. McNamara was much younger than Mr. Moore, probably in her twenties, but already had ribbons of gray streaking through her dark hair, tied back with a pin. She was strikingly pretty, which Spencer noticed immediately. “We’ll get you up to speed in no time.”

  Spencer usually sat in the front, but Mrs. McNamara asked that she sit in the back with Jackson, so that they could coordinate their note-taking without distracting the other students. A fair request, Spencer agreed. She situated Ripley on the floor next to her chair while Jackson and Olivia sat next to her.

  Faces turned to stare at Spencer, taking in the stitches and the bruises and her cast, seeing the echoes of the crash written all over her body.

  One of those faces belonged to Hailey Reed. When their eyes met, Hailey moved to look away, but she gave one last look before turning to face the front of the classroom, writing in her notebook furiously, as if to give herself anything to do not to look Spencer in the eye.

  Hailey Reed was a perky blond volleyball star, the always optimistic go-getter, a walking stereotype, a prime candidate to join the Headmaster’s List now that Ethan had fallen off. Spencer had had no problem with Hailey before the night of the crash. In fact, they might’ve been friends. She’d been over to Hailey’s house several times for birthday pool parties over the years, but now Spencer didn’t even want to share the same breathing space as her. She knew she was being harsh, but she allowed herself to wallow in her hatred for a while.

  Seeing Hailey here in class, after what Spencer had gone through that night before the crash, made Spencer’s heart tighten. Heat burned her cheeks and it took everything in her power not to throw the desk across the room. Hailey had known that Spencer and Ethan were dating, so it wasn’t some innocent mistake. And Spencer wanted to hate her for kissing Ethan, but she hated Ethan for kissing her back.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Olivia whispered, leaning in so only Spencer could hear.

  “Yeah, why?” she lied.

  “You look pissed.”

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  Just then, a classmate, Brody Dixon, slammed his huge textbook down on his desk, obliviously laughing with his friends about something or other, it didn’t matter. Spencer nearly burst into tears, her whole body as tense as a rubber band ready to snap. Olivia must have seen the flash of panic that slashed across Spencer’s face. She was positive she was having a heart attack. All she wanted to do was run out of the room, get somewhere, anywhere, that felt safe.

  Being her best friend, Olivia didn’t need to see the silver tears lining the edges of Spencer’s eyes to figure it out. Olivia reached across the aisle and squeezed her hand. Ripley too felt the panic vibrating through Spencer’s body and put her paw on Spencer’s lap. It helped somewhat, but it wasn’t a permanent fix.

  The bell rang, ending the break, and Mrs. McNamara called across the room. “Okay, folks, settle down. Let’s get started!”

  It took Spencer almost the entire class hour to calm down, wobbling on the verge of hysterics, and when she finally did calm down, she felt like she was constantly waiting for the worst to happen all over again. Her mind went to dark places, expecting more and more outlandish scenarios to happen, like an earthquake that crumbled the school into dust around her or an asteroid blowing up the earth. The longer she sat with her thoughts, the worse it got. It was just a matter of time before her brain went into panic mode, forced to repeat the crash, and that felt almost as bad as it happening for real.

  Scream. Float. Crash.

  It was embarrassing, being on the edge of a breakdown all the time, especially when her whole life she’d been in control, confident, strong. Her life had been perfect. A handsome boyfriend. A perfect GPA. Gunning for valedictorian.

  Scream. SPENCER! Float. Tree. Ethan. Crash.

  She knew people thought she looked crazy, especially crying in front of her classmates, who were just looking for any excuse to stare.

  SPENCER! Crash.

  She almost didn’t notice when the bell rang at the end of class and everyone started filing out to the hallway for lunch.

  “Spencer,” Jackson said, his voice overtaking Ethan’s in her memory. His voice was gentle, helpful. He smiled at her kindly. She got the impression that he’d been saying her name a few times before she heard him.

  She couldn’t help it. The doctors could only sew up her body, not her thoughts. She was fraying at the seams.

  * * *

  “Tabby’s probably just jealous, that’s all,” Olivia said before taking a bite out of a giant pretzel she’d bought at the stand parked outside of school.

  Olivia and Spencer had decided to take their lunch outside, letting Ripley go to the bathroom and then lie down in the grass, soaking up the sun before having to head back into class. Spencer sat on the low wall looking out over the grass and took a sip of her sweet iced tea. She was grateful for a break from four walls bearing down on her. Olivia had a college brochure open in her lap, flipping through a giant stack of schools to choose from. Unlike Spencer, she hadn’t yet decided where she wanted to go. She’d been trying to narrow down her options, but it felt like a never-ending list of choices. In a way, Spencer was a little envious of Olivia, just because Spencer was positive Olivia would flourish wherever she went.

  Spencer had told Olivia all about her run-in with Tabby at the admin office and how awkward it was. Olivia and Tabby were familiar with each other, what with Olivia working on set decorations for the school play—this year’s big production being Beauty and the Beast—and painting the stage murals while Tabby rehearsed for their big number as Belle.

  “No—duh, who wouldn’t want to have a dog at school?” Olivia added, talking around her mouthful of pretzel. “Tabby is just … Tabby. I wouldn’t think about it more than that, honestly.”

  Spencer, whose appetite had disappeared over the course of the morning, sipped on her sweet iced tea and watched Ripley as she circled the grass a few times before choosing the best spot to pee. She didn’t want having Ripley to look like special treatment, like Tabby had said. Ripley was here because Spencer constantly felt like she was teetering on the edge of panic at the slightest thing. It wasn’t fun, or funny, or anything to be jealous about.

  Ripley came back to Spencer’s side and sat down on her loafer, keeping watch of the other students milling about the campus grounds in small groups. She’d done a good job so far of keeping watch on Spencer’s needs, almost like she was reading her mind.

  Her shoulder was starting to hurt again.

  “How are you feeling?” Olivia asked, sensing Spencer’s discomfort.

  Spencer pushed her shoulders back as best she could, shifting painfully. “Managing.” All she could think about was getting back to her locker to take some more Vicodin.

  “I know you won’t listen to me, but I say you should call it a day. Truancy is a harmless endeavor. Go home early. No one will blame you.”

  “I can’t. Besides, I’ve got practice. And I’m supposed to head to the Moore house later to pick up photos for the memorial.”

  Olivia cringed. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I said I’d go, can’t really back out now. Dr. Diamond kind of dangled college in my face over it. It’s fine.”

  “If you say so…” Olivia’s gaze stretched out across the lawn, watching a few junior boys play a quick game of Frisbee, their blazers in heaps on the ground. A group of sophomore girls walked past, carrying paper bags from the burger place down the hill, and Spencer caught sight of a flash of a bright blue pin on each one of their lapels.

  #justiceforchris

  Stay Salty!

  She’d seen those buttons earlier in the day but didn’t realize what they were until now. The sophomores gave her lingering stares as they walked past, and not just because Ripley had rolled over onto her back at Spencer’s feet, paws dangling in the air, rubbing herself in the freshly cut grass clippings.

  “Are those the pins from Peyton’s podcast?” Spencer asked, once they were out of earshot. She’d never listened to her podcast before, thinking it sounded more like gossip than journalism.

  “Yeah, some sort of fundraising thing. They sold pins to help raise money for Chris’s family. I’ve been seeing people wearing them all over town.” Olivia flipped through the college booklet in her lap. “This one says it’s got the largest recreation center in the nation, plus private training sessions and three different kinds of swimming pools. Don’t know why you need three different kinds. Water is water, right?”

  Talking about college was an attempt at normalcy, and Spencer was grateful for the diversion. She let Olivia go on about schools, debating which one had the better campus life based on the stock photos the school had provided, while Spencer finished off her iced tea. Ripley needed to burn off some energy, so Spencer took out a fresh tennis ball from her backpack, purchased specifically for Ripley, and waved it for her. Ripley immediately leaped up and Spencer tossed it across the lawn, awkwardly of course since it was her nondominant hand.

  Playing with Ripley helped ease the tension in her shoulders. Ripley’s joy was contagious. They did this for a while, with Ripley fetching the ball and bringing it back to Spencer’s outstretched hand. Spencer had to admit, it was pretty fun.

  “Uh-oh,” Olivia said, making Spencer turn around.

  “What?”

  “Don’t look now, but Peyton Salt is watching you.”

  Spencer froze, watching Olivia’s gaze go past her shoulder to where Peyton was standing. “What does she want?”

  “An interview probably,” Olivia said. She hopped down from the low wall and looped her arm around Spencer’s waist. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Spencer let Olivia lead the way. “Come on, Rip.” Ripley bounced after them, obediently coming to Spencer’s other side. She knew she was imagining it, but she felt eyes on the back of her head and when she turned to look, she saw Peyton Salt gawking at her across the lawn, her phone clutched in her hand. She was a mousy girl with wavy brown hair, but her eyes were sharp behind her thick-framed glasses.

  Spencer let out a breath, trying to loosen the knot in her chest. Of course, Peyton would want to know what happened. Spencer would be the perfect source.

  Scream. Float. Crash.

  She just wanted to be left alone, even though she herself wanted to know why she felt like she was missing crucial information about that night.

  While they walked together before the end of the lunch break, Spencer figured she might as well ask Olivia what she’d been meaning to all morning. “Do you ever think that … maybe the crash didn’t happen the way everyone says it did?”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Olivia.

  “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess.”

  “Ethan was driving. He was speeding and he lost control of the car,” Olivia said sharply. “End of story. Don’t stress about it. You need to take care of yourself.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  EIGHT

  FIELD HOCKEY PRACTICE WAS ONE of the few things Spencer looked forward to, especially with the mess that was her life trailing behind her. Nothing would make her happier than to get back out on the field, but because of Spencer’s cast, she wasn’t allowed to play.

  “Sorry, Sandoval,” Coach Fray said. “You know I can’t let you.”

  “Can I at least stand with you? I don’t want to miss anything.”

  Spencer’d gotten dressed in her usual practice gear, minus her shin guards and cleats, in a show of support. But Coach Fray’s eyes went down to Ripley sitting obediently at Spencer’s feet.

  “Does the dog chase balls?” Field hockey balls were made of hard plastic, a perfect chew toy for any dog to nosh on, but Ripley wasn’t just any dog.

  “She won’t,” Spencer said. “She’s well trained.”

  “Even so, I think it’d be better if you took a seat over on the bench. You’ll be back on the field in no time, I promise.”

  Spencer glanced at her teammates, all of whom encouraged her to take it easy.

  “It’s okay, Captain!”

  “Girl, we’re good!”

  “Feel better!”

  Spencer tried to smile. Being forced to watch from the sidelines while everyone ran drills without her was a particular kind of torture, but she knew it was no use putting up a fight. Coach Fray, also her AP calculus teacher, said the team couldn’t risk her breaking her wrist again; they needed her to fully recover to even hope to get back on the field. Spencer didn’t want to feel jealous, but of course she couldn’t help it.

  While on the bench she fought the urge to open a book and study, so she perched her chin on her wrist and did her best to pay attention to the drills as Coach ran everyone through the gamut, barking about how the team hadn’t been working out as they should have over the summer, and how state champs were going to be harder to go for if they didn’t pick up the pace.

  Because she had been absent the first week of school, she’d missed out on the news that the men’s varsity soccer team and the women’s field hockey team had to share the grass field. The soccer field’s Astroturf needed repair after a pipe burst underground, turning the once perfect soccer field into a temporary swimming pool. Major renovations had to be done before the season started in full swing.

  The men’s soccer team was currently at the other end of the field doing passing drills, and Spencer tried to quash the boredom that was slowly seeping into her muscles. Everyone seemed to be doing something except for her.

  Her painkillers mellowed her out, smoothing the edges of her mind. She’d taken more at the first sign of her shoulder and arm aching, and it made the world go all fuzzy in a way that comforted her. Among the haze, she could, at least for a moment, be at peace.

  But she couldn’t bear to watch practice from one spot, so she decided to take a small walk around the track circling the field with Ripley. Stretching her legs wasn’t against the rules.

  The soccer team had started running through corner kick set pieces. Spencer was only mildly aware of how the game was played, and not too familiar with the strategy despite dating the star striker. Watching Ethan from the stands was always fun. She’d gone to every one of his games.