Good Girls Lie(12)

Becca and another senior are handing out some sort of pamphlet, and I try to duck toward the girl on her left so I won’t have to come face-to-face with the bully again, but I’m jostled by the crowd right back to her. I keep my head down, avoiding eye contact, take the proffered paper, and start to move into the chapel, but the universe conspires against me. Becca rips the paper back, forcing me to a stop.

“So. You’re our mad Brit.”

Camille grabs my hand and tugs. “Leave her alone, Becca.”

“Shut it, Shannon. Carlisle here can speak for herself.”

I’d rather crawl into the nave’s warm brown wainscoting and disappear, but Becca is staring at me, challenge in her eyes. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

I know I can’t let Becca bully me. I need to stand up to her. But I hate conflict, hate it. I say the words under my breath and Becca cocks her head.

“What? Speak up. I couldn’t understand you. Surely you know how to speak.”

The sneer undoes me.

“Yes, I do. I said, better a mad Brit than a daft cow.”

“Ooo, snap,” Camille says, eyes wide.

Becca’s lips go thin, and her face turns red. Her voice is soft, deathly cool. “Aren’t you clever, little Brit. We’ll see how smug you feel later, shall we?” The threat in Becca’s smile is unmistakable.

“Later?”

“Move along, little ones.”

Becca resumes passing out fliers and Camille yanks on my arm.

“Come on. Hurry. Before she changes her mind.”

We take our seats in the chapel, which is broken into class quadrants by layers similar to the dorm housing—freshmen in the front pews, then sophomores, juniors, and seniors at the back.

Camille’s eyes are shining. “I can’t believe you mouthed off to Becca Curtis.”

“Whatever. She was hounding me earlier, when I was checking in. Told me to take the left staircase, the Evens’ stairs, told me I’d get a single if my roommate died. I don’t like bullies.”

Vanessa shakes her head, lips pursed in concern. “That was a dangerous thing to do, Ash. Becca Curtis is powerful. Why did she single you out?”

“No idea. Her mum is a senator, I heard. Maybe she hates immigrants.”

“No, I meant here, at Goode, she’s powerful. Doesn’t matter who her mother is, though it’s hard to forget, sometimes. Camille told you my mom works at the State Department, right? She doesn’t care for Senator Curtis. Anyway, Becca is head of the judicial board. She handles Honor Code violations, plus she’s class president, and rumor has it she’s head of Ivy Bound, too, but no one knows for sure, not unless you’re tapped and get in, that is. And the odds of one of us getting tapped are slim. Not as sophomores.”

“Ivy Bound? What is that?”

“It’s a secret society. The secret society. Goode has quite a few, but Ivy Bound is the cream of the crop. It’s the one everyone wants to be tapped for.”

“If it’s secret, how does everyone know about it? And what’s tapped mean?”

“Shhh!” A sharp whisper behind us.

“Later,” Vanessa says quietly. “Pay attention like a good little mad Brit.” Her grin is infectious, and I relax, put my attention to the front of the chapel.

The professors have filed in and taken their seats. There is Dr. Asolo, who seems to be having a joke with the woman next to her, small, older, with a silvery bun knotted on top of her head. Most are unremarkable, outside of Asolo and one devilishly handsome man on the far left. He’s younger than the rest, and I know this is Dr. Medea, the computer science professor. He alone sits at attention; the rest look alternately bored and tired. Moments later, when they sit up straight, all the girls rise. I leap to my feet with them as Dean Westhaven comes from the wings and steps behind the pulpit.

The dean waits until there is complete silence in the room before she begins to speak.

“Welcome to Goode, ladies. Welcome. I am Dean Westhaven, though you all know me already, either from our interactions here on campus or, if you’re new to the school, through our entrance interviews.”

A small, pale hand goes to the side of the dean’s perfectly coiffed hair, patting and smoothing it into place. I watch the gesture with interest. She’s nervous. Why?

“To matriculate from Goode is more than good fortune, it is to seize the future. The statistics don’t lie—of the fifty graduates sitting before me today, the class of 2021, all of you will graduate, and all of you will go to college. Why? Because I, your dean, expect nothing less. Your fellow students expect nothing less. Your families expect nothing less. You will excel because that is what Goode girls do.

“You are here to learn. You will work harder than you have ever worked before. You will serve your classmates and this community.

“Never forget, it is a privilege to receive this education. It is your responsibility to step into the world with grace and dignity and an inquisitive brain. You are the leaders of tomorrow. Be a leader today. Show me, your fellow students, your professors how very special you all are. You have each been chosen to have a place behind the redbrick wall. When you leave these corridors, when you are no longer protected by our traditions and our campus life, you will always be safe in the world, because you bear the stamp of Goode on your soul.