Frost - Marianna Baer

“It’s okay,” she said. “As long as you give me a chance to

show that I’m not. You’ll see. It’ll be better for you, too. David’ll

see how much he can trust you.” She reached up and brushed

something off her cheek. The sleeve of her leopard-print vintage

sweater crept up a bit. A bruise I’d never noticed before circled

her wrist. “It bothered me a bit,” she said, “when you and David

got together. Partly, you know, I already felt lonely because of

this . . . this house stuff. But also, I think, as much as I hated how

protective he was, I got nervous that I needed him. But now I’m

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glad you’re, like, in love. I’m sorry if I made it hard. I should’ve

realized it didn’t have to be you or me. And that I’m stronger than

I thought.”

I lay down on my bed and stared at the cockroach angel in

Celeste’s photograph. I pictured that bruise on her tiny wrist, a

bizarre bracelet. I couldn’t do what they wanted me to do. But

maybe . . . maybe there was a way. A way I could take care of

Celeste without losing David. Or Frost House. Because if I lost

them, what would I have left?

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Chapter 39

MOST FRESHMEN EAT IN LOWER RIGHT, at least the ones

who haven’t made varsity teams or gotten leads in plays. Sure

enough, the next morning I found Nicole there, eating breakfast

with her friend, Sera.

“Can I talk to you, Nicole?” I said. “Alone?”

Sera stood and picked up her tray. “I was leaving anyway.

FYI, Nicki, danger at ten o’clock.” She giggled. “See you later,

lovebird.”

I followed Nicole’s eyes toward ten o’clock where a guy in an

oversize Barcroft hoodie sat. Nicole jerked her gaze down to her

plate. “Shoot. Did he see me?”

“I have no idea,” I said, sliding into the seat Sera had

vacated. If only my main worry was running into some guy in

Commons. “I need your help, Nicole. The situation is more

complicated than I thought.”

“What situation?” Nicole’s eyes flicked back toward the guy.

She smoothed her hair behind her ears.

“The thing with the girl in the locker room. I’m hoping you’ll

do me a favor.”

Now she focused on me. “What can I do? I don’t even know

her.”

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“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “Just tell Dean Shepherd what you

saw. You know, the bruises. Don’t mention my name. Tell the

dean like she’s the only person you’ve told.”

“Why? Dean Shepherd hates me. Can’t you tell her?”

I shook my head, antagonizing the terrible headache I’d had

since last night. I’d thrown up this morning, too. Nerves. “Like I

said, it’s complicated. You don’t have to have a long thing with

the dean. Just go in, tell her what you saw. That’s it.”

“Couldn’t it just be an anonymous tip?”

“Nicole,” I said. “You owe me.”

She bit her bottom lip and scraped her fork across her plate,

through clumps of scrambled eggs.

“Okay,” she finally said. “I guess it’s not a big deal. I’ll do it.”

“Thanks.” I smiled with relief. One hurdle cleared. “Dean

Shepherd usually gets to her office at seven thirty, so maybe you

could stop by on your way to your first class.”

Nicole watched as I stood up to leave. “What’s going on with

that girl, anyway?” she said. “Someone told me she’s going out

with Whip Windham. Is it, like, an abusive relationship?” I could

see in Nicole’s eyes that she’d be on the phone the minute I left,

telling Sera what had just happened.

“No,” I said. “It’s nothing to do with that.” The last thing

Celeste needed was to be the grist of the Barcroft rumor mill.

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Although, I supposed that was the least of her problems.

There was a time bomb ticking. I could hear it counting off

with every one of my shallow, accelerated breaths that morning.

After bio, I wandered down the crowded hall, wondering if Nicole

had done what I’d asked, if Celeste had been called to the office,

if David knew. Silas Williams, from my Calculus class, stopped and

asked me if I’d finished the homework. I couldn’t remember.

Saturday, the day I’d last done homework, seemed so far away

and fuzzy. I was about to tell him no when I felt a tug on my wrist.

I turned.

“Leena,” Celeste said. “Come here.” My heart leapt into my

throat. I followed her off to the side of the crowd, into an open

space underneath the main staircase.

She stood so our faces were only inches apart and spoke in a

whisper. “She told. The little redhead. She told Dean Shepherd.”

“She did?” I said. Celeste’s eyes betrayed no emotion. I

hoped mine were just as unreadable.

“Yes! Can you believe it? She already snitched to you. Why

would she tell the dean?”

“I guess she was worried,” I said. “So, are you okay? What’s

going to happen?” Honestly, I was surprised she was in the

classroom building. And that she seemed relatively calm.

“Nothing,” Celeste said. “Thank God. It’s just a pain in the

ass.”

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“Nothing?” That couldn’t be right.

Celeste brought out a tube of Blistex. I bit the insides of my

cheeks to keep from asking more questions as she ran it over her

lips. “I saw the dean a few minutes ago,” she finally said. “I gave

her the whole blood-disorder song and dance, told her about my

doctor’s appointment, blah, blah, blah. . . .”

“Oh,” I said. “Right.” All of my muscles tightened. I had

known Nicole would only tell Dean Shepherd about the bruises, of

course. Why had I assumed that would lead to the dean finding

out everything else?

Instead, it had led nowhere.

“The good news is I think David figured out a plan,” Celeste

said. “Like we discussed.”

The tightness in my chest was keeping me from breathing.

“Already?”

“Of course already. The sooner the better. You want me to

die in there?”

“What is it? He’s not going to do anything too extreme, is

he?”

“He hasn’t told me,” she said. “He sent a text that says, ‘Got

it.’”

“‘Got it’? That could mean anything.”

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“No way. It means he’s got a plan.”

As much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I knew she was

right.

This couldn’t happen. I couldn’t let David do something

horrible to Frost House. I couldn’t go along with this fantasy that

Celeste wasn’t sick. And if I waited any longer, it would be too

late.

“Can Dean Shepherd see me?” I asked Marcia. “It’s an

emergency.”

I stood in front of Marcia’s desk, scrunching and

unscrunching my toes in my boots, telling myself that this was the

right thing to do. That whatever happened with David, I had no

choice. I couldn’t jeopardize Celeste’s life just to hold on to him. I

checked my phone about a hundred times to make sure I hadn’t

missed a call or text. I’d left David a message that he shouldn’t do

anything until we spoke. I was reaching in my bag to check it

again when Marcia motioned me to go into the office.

Dean Shepherd was wiping the sleeve of her blouse with a

paper towel. “Coffee spill,” she said. “Have a seat, Leena.”

I sat down and laced my fingers together tightly in my lap to

keep my hands still.

The dean set aside the paper towel and gave me a small

smile. “So,” she said. “Judging from the morning I’ve had, I’ll