A/N Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! This'll be the last update for a week, coz I'm going on my hols! Yay! I'm actually meant to be getting ready right now - ain't I a rebel? R&R!
Mil
P.S - Mil is sorry for the earlier mistake, but she's off on holiday now so it is I, Moonlight Silhouette, fixing it for her. With her permission of course. xD
Hollybridge Heights Weekly Newsletter
By Cee-Cee Webb
First and foremost, don't forget to pay your dues to Bryce Martinson, currently residing in the hospital wing…apparently, he has some "wicked" scars he'd like to show you all…though no-one knows (not even Bryce Martinson himself, who apparently blacked out) how he got those scars. If you have any information, contact Front Office.
Cheerleaders kicked ass this week in their meet – don't forget those spirit fingers, girls! Let's hope that our guys in the basketball team are all set to match that effort in their game against the Jaguars tomorrow…god knows Jack Slater needs to be taken down a notch or two.
I'm sure I speak for the majority when I say… I hope to God this is a better week than last week.
Your faithful correspondent,
Cee Cee Webb
Chapter Eleven
My heart lurched, and I tore the stupid little piece of technology that I had managed to sneak away from the store cupboard in the Science Building, and threw it across the room, my hands shaking. I searched my empty pockets for my mobile phone – the most modern one, as Susannah had insisted when I went for an upgrade, though of course I had no idea how to use most of it – and eventually found it in the drawer of my desk. My fingers fumbled as they keyed in Maria's mobile number, and I was on the penultimate digit when it began vibrating.
Maria calling.
I sighed in relief, and lifted the cell to my ear urgently. "Are you O.K?" I demanded. "What happened? You disappeared!"
"Give me a break, De Silva," Maria replied, irritably. "I just got ambushed by four fraternity guys demanding why I was 'writing an article' about Jack's personal life with his brother."
"Well it was a bad idea to start questioning him about Paul," I admitted, though immediately realised it was the wrong thing to say. "I mean-"
"Bad idea?" Maria repeated, furiously. "Bad idea? Let's rewind, shall we? Who came up with this ridiculous idea for me to go undercover for this stupid little mission that means nothing to us? That was you. Who decided that I was the one 'pretty' enough to get away with asking the personal questions? That was you. And who-"
"And who found out some pretty useful stuff?" I interjected, before my eardrum burst from her squawking. "That would be you. We now know that Paul covered up the murder. I also know that Paul held a gun to Father Dominic's head in order for him to have something done. One thing's for sure – he's up to no good."
"I found out something else," Maria replied, and she seemed a lot calmer now. "Meet me by the campus gates in fifteen minutes." She hung up, and I sighed again. She's safe, I repeated over and over to soothe my agitated heartbeat. She's safe, and she's on her way home.
I pulled my Biology notes from my desk and began revising them, repeating Darwin's theories over and over to myself, trying to block out anything unpleasant from my mind. Images of Susannah and Paul flooded my conscience, whilst my subconscious kept flicking back to Maria, and what could have happened there in the frat house.
"Darwin's theory involving evolution was…" I muttered, trying to refocus. But it was hopeless. There was no way I was going to be able to commit to my studies now, my mind was too full. I scattered my pages across my floor irately, and threw the door open, grabbing my keys as I left.
I looked at my watch. It had only been two minutes since Maria had called, but I could be early to meet her; she'd pull into campus in that shiny silver car and see me acting like a …boyfriend – I shuddered – should. I forced my way through the courtyard – it seemed a little more crowded that usual – and was walking past the gym when I spied something that caught my eye.
Susannah.
And she was crying.
"Querida…" I muttered, and I changed my path so that I came closer to the green metal bench she had perched herself lightly on. Her cheeks were flushed with misery, her green eyes sparkling with sadness. Yet she had never looked so beautiful. I took hold of her hand silently and she laced her fingers with mine, squeezing my palm meaningfully. "What's wrong?" I asked her, softly.
She didn't answer me. Instead, she brought her body closer to mine and rested her head on my chest, listening to my heart pump madly. I watched her face rise and fall with my ribcage. She closed her eyes, peacefully. Several tears dribbled down her face.
"Is it Paul?" I tried, and her cold hand twitched in mine. It was Paul, I could tell. I examined her face to find no bruises, and for that, I was thankful. At least on the outside she was pristine. I ran a hand through her soft hair, twisting my fingers through each chestnut wave. She exhaled smoothly, leaning her head into my hand slightly. I held palm there a fraction of a second longer, just to feel her there in my grasp.
"It was Paul," she replied. I moved to check my watch. It had now been fifteen minutes since Maria had called. She would be waiting. I didn't move. Instead, I listened intently to Susannah's words, watching her lips form every syllable delicately. The poignant curve of her mouth made sure her Brooklyn twang was more evident than it had been for a while. "He…I found him with someone else."
A rumble of anger roared in my gut. This wasn't the first time he had hurt her. He had now purposefully broken her heart twice…and he was going to pay. Susannah felt my temper rise, and she laid a gentle hand on my heart to calm me. I softened…slightly. "Who was he with?" I asked, cautiously. Susannah sniffed.
"The lab assistant," she answered. "Carrie, I think her name is. Carrie Whitman. She was homecoming queen back in RLS, when we were in junior year. Almost got killed in that car accident by Big Sur." I nodded in recollection. My lab partner Mark Pulsford had told me all about her – apparently, she'd passed up an acceptance at Hollybridge, and found a job here instead. Mark had been in awe of her 'beauty', and would gawp open-mouthed whenever she entered the room. I had always been too busy admiring every curl on Susannah's head to notice how any other girl looked.
"She's beautiful," Susannah mused, sadly. I shook my head fiercely.
"She is nothing compared to you," I informed her firmly. "I hear she has blue eyes. I, personally, prefer green eyes." Susannah giggled in my arms.
"Liar," she replied, amusedly. "Maria has brown eyes." I thought back to times I had spent with Maria. Only now did I realise properly what colour Maria's eyes were. A deep brown – chocolate…like mine. It was all too coincidental when I heard her voice shriek my name. I cursed rudely in Spanish, and I could tell by the way Susannah squirmed in my hold that her ears burned.
"Jesse!" Maria yelled, her high heels clacking against the sidewalk as she marched through the courtyard. "Forgetting some one, are we?" I checked my watch – it had been half an hour. Oops. I jumped off the bench, and made my way towards her.
"I'm sorry, Maria, I-" But she was looking past me; she had spotted Susannah. Recognition dawned on her face, and her expression turned sour. She looked back at me, scowling.
"So sorry to have interrupted," she said, coldly. "Wasn't anything important, was it?"
"Sounds like you're jealous," Susannah remarked, just as icily. She jerked her head in my direction. "You want to look out for that, Jess. Over-protective bitches are the worst kind." Maria growled.
"Be nice," I mouthed to Susannah, and then I turned to face Maria, who was fuming. I tried to reason with her. "I'm sorry," I attempted, though I knew my case was lost. "I lost all sense of time – and I found Susannah upset…"
"Oh, of course," Maria replied, sarcastically. "Susannah has to come first. I get that. It's always been like that. I'm the one who's your girlfriend, but it'll be her who's your first priority."
"We were never an established couple," I said, quietly. "It was just kind of… assumed." I felt horrible saying it, but it was true. I hadn't had any choice in the matter.
"Assumed?" Maria repeated, dangerously. "By who?"
"You," I whispered. Susannah snorted from behind me. "I'm sorry, Maria," I said again. But Maria wasn't having any of it.
"Well, I know there's not much point in saying this," she announced, and she stood with her hands on her hips. "Seeing as we were never a 'couple'-" She mimed quotation marks. "But we're over."
"Glad to hear it," Susannah chimed in. I whirled around to shoot her an accusing look. When I turned around again, Maria had disappeared. I threw my hands into the air, exasperatedly.
I trudged back to my dormitory begrudgingly, annoyed at myself more than anyone. I had never had anybody in my life besides Susannah, and she had always come first no matter what. She was my best friend, the only person I spent time with – except for my family on national holidays. When she had been torn away from me, only then had I turned to seek company from someone else.
I slid the key into the lock miserably, and pushed my door open, almost slipping on the papers scattered across my carpet. I picked them up wordlessly – not even bothering to order them – and turned on my computer. It was times like this that I needed to read the news – there had to be somebody's life that was worse than mine.
You have 1 new email.
I clicked Open and read the message. It was from Maria, and I traced it tentatively, not sure of what it may hold.
I thought you might like to know that I found out why Paul covered up the murder. It turns out Suze isn't the only student Paul's been fooling around – in fact; he had a little bit of a reputation. If he had one more fling, then his degree would be terminated. That didn't stop him – he started with this chick from Hollybridge, I didn't get her name. Jack was the only one who knew about it, and Paul saved him to keep him quiet.
I stared at the screen in awe. So his relationship with Susannah wasn't a fluke – in fact, it was the normality for Paul. I felt sick – disgusted that she had just been another one to add to his résumé. I doubted she meant anything to him. I contemplated how I could reply.
What a bas-
Delete, delete, delete.
The jer-
Again I pressed the delete button. I sighed, repeating several possibilities over and over in my head. Eventually, I just settled for a simple, no-strings-attached answer.
Thanks
I turned off my computer and sat in my chair silently. I could Susannah in my head now, curled up into a little ball, sobbing over someone who didn't matter. Someone who used her until he could find someone better. Paul didn't deserve her tears – and I was going to make sure she wasn't going to waste any more on him.
For the second time that day, I marched determinedly out of my room, this time collecting my coat as well as my keys before I shut the door. I chose not to distribute my papers across the flooring this time, to ensure my safety when I returned.
What was Susannah's dormitory number again? It had been so long since I had paid her a visit – or so it seemed. It had only been a month and a half since the new school year had started, yet it felt like so much longer. I had started and ended a new relationship already – something that went completely against my usual nature.
I made my way to Susannah's dormitory hall – at least I remembered that – and then found my way to her room by examining each and every door that I passed. It was easy to tell which one belonged to hers by the rock band stickers Cassie had stuck carefully to the wood. There was also a whiteboard stuck to the door, reading "Cassie and Suze". That was kind of the major giveaway.
I knocked once, but when there was no answer I pushed the door open anyway. I could always rely on Susannah never to lock her door. It was one of those things I was constantly reminding her about. "Querida?" I called out, and I spied her, just as I had predicted, in a ball on her bed. As I walked into the room she tried desperately to pretend she hadn't been crying. I frowned.
"Susannah, he is not worth your tears," I said, firmly, and she sniffled meekly.
"I know," she moaned. "But it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." I smiled sadly, and I took a seat next to her, pulling her into my arms and cradling her gently. She nestled into my neck cosily, inhaling deeply. "It's been a while since it's just been you and me, hasn't it?"
"Yes," I answered. "I've missed it."
"Me too." She kissed the base of my throat gently, and then began stroking the skin with one smooth finger. I chewed the inside of my cheek, confused. I wasn't sure if I had figured out the mood correctly. Our relationship was purely platonic – or on her part, at least. Or so I thought…
"You've always been there for me, Jesse," she whispered, and she moved her neck so that she could lay a gentle kiss on my chin. I writhed slightly, bewildered. Her hands remained on my neck, gently caressing my collarbone. I cleared my throat.
She moved even higher, and the breath caught in my throat. She was going to…no, she wouldn't…
She lifted her head just slightly so that she could lay a gentle kiss on my stiff lips - too gently. I wasn't sure if I had imagined it or not. She rested her forehead against mine, her eyes still closed, her expression tortured.
"Oh Jess," she groaned. "You're such a good friend."
