The Education Of Hailey Kendrick Part 9

I wondered what was going to happen when I went back to school. The top of Winston's head was going to lift off when he found out what I'd done. Drew was right that there was no death penalty, but Dean Winston was going to come up with something. Something that might make me wish for death. Winston struck me as the kind of guy terrorists call when they're looking for new ideas. I stared out the window. He might expel me, despite what Drew said about the school wanting the tuition money. My grandma would freak out if I got kicked out of school. No one in our family had ever been expelled. And I was pretty sure an expulsion would blow my chances with Yale. It wasn't the kind of school that catered to the juvenile delinquent crowd. I wouldn't be surprised if Winston was already contacting the admissions office, telling them that I was the type to spray paint my name on Yale's Harkness Tower, or beat up the mascot bulldog.

Drew leaned back from the table. "All right. Now tell me everything."

"Why?"

"Because I'm interested, and you want to talk about it."

"No, I don't."

"Liar. You think I won't know how to help you, but that's where you're wrong." He raised his hand to cut me off before I could say anything. "Admit it. You were wrong about me before. I happen to be a keen problem solver. Sometime I'll tell you about the time I had my wallet lifted in the Cairo market, and I followed the guy and won it back in a game of dice, along with an extra hundred bucks."

"You traveled through Egypt?" I had pictured Drew as the kind of guy who didn't travel out of the state, let alone the country. Maybe down South to some kind of barbecue champions.h.i.+p event, but exotic travel had never occurred to me. "Did you see the pyramids?"

"That's what you pay attention to? I tell you I managed to infiltrate a den of thieves and win, and you focus on the pyramids? If you don't mind me being so blunt, that's part of your problem. You focus on the wrong things." He leaned back into the corner of the booth so that his crossed feet hung out into the aisle. "Telling someone who has no connection to a situation gives you a fresh view. You could use a fresh pair of eyes. Now, start at the beginning. You decided to attack the school mascot because . . ."

I looked into his eyes. I could could use a new perspective. It wasn't like I had any great ideas on my own. use a new perspective. It wasn't like I had any great ideas on my own.

"I'm going to need more coffee," I said. "It's a long story."

Drew raised his finger, and the waitress headed in our direction. I took a deep breath and tried to figure out where to start.

19.

When I stopped speaking, Drew leaned back and said nothing. I sipped my coffee to have something to do. I was practically humming with all the caffeine in my system. If anyone looked directly at me, I bet I would be a blur.

"So, as you can see, it's pretty screwed up," I said, wanting him to say something.

"You did a good thing."

"Are you kidding? I haven't done anything right since this whole thing started. It was like I took one wrong turn and now I can't get my life back on track."

"I don't know. Seems like you've done some good things. You took the heat so your friend Joel doesn't lose his scholars.h.i.+p. That shows character. Sad truth is that most people only do the right thing if it doesn't cost them anything."

I shrugged off his praise. "How much character does it show that I kissed my boyfriend's best friend?" I left off the part that really scared me. Not only had I kissed him, but I'd liked it.

"Well, I'll divide my answer to that question into two parts. How much character is Tristan showing? He won't even give you a chance to explain."

"You don't understand. Tristan has issues around trust."

"We all have issues. If you want to worry about issues, worry less about his and focus on why you kissed this Joel guy in the first place."

"I told you. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing."

"Uh-huh." Drew smirked and looked out the window.

"It was," I said.

"If that's what you want to think, that's fine with me."

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot on the floor. "So you think it's something else. You have some explanation for the whole thing. Go on, share your wisdom."

Drew turned around so that his feet were on the floor and he was staring me straight in the eyes. "You kissed Joel as a way to break up with Tristan."

I laughed and looked away. "Are you kidding me? Why would I want to break up with him? Tristan's the perfect boyfriend. We've been together for years."

"You're not in love with him."

"And you know how I feel better than I do? That's amazing." I couldn't believe him. His brain must have been clogged with the amount of grease he'd consumed. He had bacon brain. "You must be some kind of psychic, since you know things about me that even I don't know."

"Tell me why you love him," Drew said.

"You want a list, fine. He's nice. I can depend on him. He's very loyal." I started ticking off items on my fingers.

"You make him sound like a c.o.c.ker spaniel. That's not love. That's affection. He's a habit. Deep down you want to break the habit, so you did the one thing you knew he wouldn't be able to stand. You kissed someone else, and now you're free. You're scared to be off track, but I think you're sick of always living in the lines. Maybe you wanted to explore what you might find if you wandered away from the tracks just a bit. Best part of being lost, you know, is discovering things you didn't know you were looking for."

Just my luck. In addition to his keen cleaning abilities and skill at rolling dice with Egyptian thieves, he was also a philosopher. "That's absurd. I'm not sick of living 'in the lines' of my life. My life was going just fine before all of this."

"Really? What about the situation with your dad?"

"A person can be disappointed in something without it meaning they want their entire life to be different."

"Why didn't you tell your dad that it wasn't okay for him to ruin your summer by bailing on you?"

"It's not that simple. He has to go. It's his job."

"Ah, slave labor program." He laughed at my expression. "Don't get yourself all riled up. All I'm saying is that people act like they're stuck, when the truth is that they have a choice. Your dad doesn't have to do that job, and you don't have to be the good girl all the time. You don't have to keep dating Tristan just because you did for years. If you want to be happy, then you have to make it happen."

"Well, this has been very helpful," I said, rolling my eyes. "Your words of wisdom will make all the trouble I'm going to get in for skipping worthwhile."

Drew stood up, smiling. He was either ignoring my sarcasm or had missed it completely. "You're welcome, but you're going to get even more bang for your buck. I thought of something we can do."

"I should go back."

"You're already in trouble. Might as well make it count. Besides, you're going to love this." Drew left some money on the table for the waitress and started walking out. He stopped at the counter and said something to the cook. The cook pa.s.sed him two giant metal trays. They looked like cookie sheets on steroids.

"What are those for?"

"Wait and see."

"Where are we going?" I trailed after him. I felt nervous; G.o.d only knew what he had planned.

Drew stopped to hold the door open. "Prima Donna, you cannot even imagine how much fun you're going to have. But first I'm going to introduce you to another place I'm willing to bet you've never been to." He paused for dramatic effect. "We're going to Walmart. You're going to love it. It's like a redneck version of Harrods."

20.

Five hours later I sat outside Dean Winston's office trying to ignore the glances his secretary kept shooting in my direction. I couldn't tell if it was because she knew how much trouble I was in, or because of my outfit.

Drew had made all my fas.h.i.+on choices at Walmart. He'd decreed that my school uniform was not appropriate for the activity he had planned. I ended up wearing black and yellow striped tights that were a leftover from a Halloween costume that didn't sell. Over those I wore a pair of black snow pants decorated with fake spray painted tags. Across my b.u.m in purple letters with silver trim was the word "RADICAL." There was a "Kilroy Was Here" on one knee, and running down the side was a bright yellow cursive "Anarchy." I was still wearing my uniform blouse with Drew's Bruins sweats.h.i.+rt over the top. My new red gloves were normal, but after Drew declared my head to be freakishly small, I ended up with a hat from the kid's department, complete with earflaps and a pom-pom on top. It was decorated with various glittery fairy decals. I reached a hand up to touch it. It was the tackiest thing I had ever seen, and I loved it.

My face was windburned. We'd gone sledding. I hadn't been sledding since I was a little kid, and I couldn't remember when I'd had so much fun. I wasn't as fearless as Drew. He liked to get a running start and then fling himself facedown onto the giant metal tray, barreling down the hill. I preferred to sit at the top on the tray and then inch myself forward until gravity kicked in and carried me to the bottom, but I loved the rush of the wind. The air was so cold that it seemed hot and burning when I sucked it in. It felt like it was scouring my lungs clean. As soon as I came to a stop at the bottom, I would pop up and do my best to run up the hill so I could go again. For the first time since this whole mess had started, my mind had stopped spinning around with everything that had happened. I didn't think about my dad, Tristan, Joel, or anyone else at Evesham. I didn't even worry about sledding injury rates. We went sledding until my legs were rubbery from walking up the hill in the deep snow, and the sweats.h.i.+rt was damp from melted snow and sweat.

As Drew drove me back to the school, he gave me advice on how to handle Winston. "Tell him you felt mentally unstable. That you were so emotionally damaged that you were afraid you might 'do something' so you ran away to clear your head. Trust me. The last thing this guy wants on his hands is a suicidal student. Boarding schools live in fear of that stuff. It's bad for public relations."

"You should let me out here," I said, motioning for Drew to pull over a block or so before the school gates.

"What? Is this one of those things where you're embarra.s.sed to be seen with me?" Drew made a face as if he were deeply wounded.

I smacked him on his shoulder. "I get sarcasm for trying to keep you out of trouble? I save your job, your financial ticket to Yale, and you mock me? This will be the last time I'll take all the heat."

Drew laughed. "I would be happy to be the Clyde in your Bonnie and Clyde lawless adventure."

Bonnie and Clyde were lovers. I wondered if that was why Drew had used that example. As soon as the thought flashed through my mind, I felt myself flush. Apparently, since the Joel incident I was incapable of having interactions with a guy without wondering if he liked me.

"I should get going," I said, cracking the door open. "Thanks for making my first skip day so memorable."

"It's all memorable with me," Drew said with a wink before driving off.

I went directly to Dean Winston's office and told him that my delicate emotional state had snapped in the dining hall. I'd had to walk away before I did something . . . desperate. I made sure my voice had a slight quaver in it. Drew had warned me not to argue but to admit I was in the wrong. Winston glowered at me across his desk. I could see him thinking through his options. I could tell he wanted to yell, but he was uncertain. He made me wait outside his office while he decided what to do. There was a puddle of slush on the floor by my feet. I'd been at Evesham for four years, and I'd spent more time in Winston's office in the past couple weeks than I had in the entire rest of the time I'd attended the school.

Dean Winston opened the door and motioned me inside. I stood, saying a quick mental prayer that Drew was right and I wasn't about to hear that I was expelled. Drew had kept pointing out that expelled kids don't pay tuition and Winston would be crazy to kick me out over one day of skipping. People like Dean Winston would think through the economics of the situation before doing anything rash.

"The deterioration of your behavior is very troubling to me, Ms. Kendrick."

I looked down at my shoes and watched a rivulet of slush start to wind its way to the thick rug in the middle of the room. He took a step closer and put his arm around my shoulder. I felt myself tense up, and I had to fight the urge to pull away.

"I hope you know you can talk with me if you're going through a difficult time. I know these years as girls grow into young women are challenging."

I stayed perfectly still. Winston sounded like one of those films they showed us in junior high about menstruation and how we shouldn't be scared if hair started to grow on our bodies in new places. I made a noncommittal sound.

"I want you to be honest with me. Did you sneak into town to see the boy? The one you were with the night of the incident with the statue?"

"What? No." I met his stare. "I promise you I was not with the guy from that night."

Winston sat down and guided me into the chair next to him. "It isn't uncommon for young girls to become"-he searched for the right word-"enamored of the 'bad boy.' Maybe it feels daring or exciting, but you need to be careful."

Oh, G.o.d. Dean Winston was going to start talking about safe s.e.x. "I'm not dating anyone from town," I said, hoping to cut him off. "I'm not dating anyone now."

"You're a very fortunate young lady, and part of that fortune is that you're being protected from some of the unseemly sides of life. There are people who would want to take advantage of you, to use any relations.h.i.+p for their own gains. Nothing against anyone from town, but they would certainly be aware that you come from a prestigious family."

"So you think anyone from town would only be seeing me for my money?"

Winston patted me on the knee. "Of course not." He waited a beat before continuing. "But this can't be something you're sure about. People aren't always open about their motivations. In general I think you'll find it's best when people stick with their own kind. Not that I'm advocating that anyone is better than anyone else, but you come from different worlds."

"Different worlds," I repeated. "Got it."

"Normally anyone who skips cla.s.s is placed on restriction. Now, you're already on restriction, so that isn't really an option for us."

"I understand." I really hoped Winston wasn't going to do the thing where he asked me what I felt a reasonable punishment would be.

"If you'll tell me who else was involved in the earlier incident, then I'm prepared to consider things wrapped up and behind us."

"I can't."

Mr. Winston sighed as if I had caused him a deep grievous harm. "There's a difference between 'can't' and 'won't,' Ms. Kendrick. Very well. We're going to continue with your existing punishment. The restriction stands for you and your cla.s.smates. You're going to write a letter of apology to each of your instructors for missing today's cla.s.ses and prepare for me a written report on the history of the school. Also, I'm going to require that you meet with the school counselor."

I nodded. I figured I was going to have to see Ms. Sullivan once I brought up the whole emotional fragility thing. I had zero interest in spending time spilling my guts to the school counselor, but I didn't see any way out of it.

"All right. I've already called Ms. Sullivan, and she's cleared her schedule to see you."

He stood, and I let out a deep breath. I wasn't going to be expelled. There was a tap at the door, and Kelsie stood there.

"I brought over Hailey's things that she left in the dining hall." Kelsie held out my books.

"Very well. Don't dawdle, Ms. Kendrick. Ms. Sullivan will be waiting for you in her office."

I nodded and followed Kelsie out into the hall. Our footsteps echoed on the wooden floors. We walked past the framed photos of various Evesham graduation cla.s.ses. I felt the eyes of all the past students watching us go by. Ms. Sullivan's office was down a level on the first floor, in a room she'd decorated to look like someone's grandmother's overly fussy formal living room. Kelsie waited to say anything until we hit the stairwell. She shot a look over her shoulder to make sure Mr. Winston wasn't following us.

"Where the h.e.l.l did you go?"

"You told me to leave. I was just taking your advice."

"Did you seriously crawl out the bathroom window?" Kelsie giggled. "You should have seen Mandy when she figured out you were gone. She was practically foaming at the mouth. No one could figure out where you went. That one freshman girl who is always doing tarot cards actually wondered out loud if you'd disappeared. She thinks maybe the guy from town is a ghost or a vampire or something and that's why you can't tell anyone who he is."

"She's got to lay off watching all those paranormal TV shows."

"She's hoping you're dating the undead, because it gives her hope that all her Twilight Twilight dreams might actually come true." Kelsie stopped me on the landing. "Okay, be honest now. Why are you dressed like you're homeless?" dreams might actually come true." Kelsie stopped me on the landing. "Okay, be honest now. Why are you dressed like you're homeless?"

"You don't like the hat?" I fluffed my pom-pom.

"I would burn it before I would let it touch my head."

"Well, don't come begging me to borrow it later when it catches on as a trend."

"Where did you go?"

"I went sledding."