Coldhearted (9781311888433) (15 page)

Edie gasped. “What? Is she okay?”

Candie flipped Edie off, before lowering her
hand. “Ugh, like you care.”

“
Wait, Quinn McDermott?” a
nearby girl spoke up. “She’s gone after him too?”

Edie held up her hands. “This is nonsense. I
haven’t stolen anyone.”

Soon, all the girls were erupting in
accusations and rumors, pointing fingers and making the sign of the
cross.

They were all silenced by a loud bang.
Russell had slammed the psychology textbook on his desk.

“
What the hell is going
on?!” he demanded, darting his furious eyes back and forth across
the room. He pointed a sharp finger at Candie. “Tell me what’s
going on.”

“
I-I, um, well, Edie’s...”
Rattled, she couldn’t remember her earlier accusation.

“
Edie’s what?” he
demanded.

“
N-nothing,” Candie
stammered, nervous and embarrassed.

Russell angrily picked up the stack of pop
quizzes, and then slammed them on his desk, causing them to fly in
multiple directions like misguided birds, until they finally
crashed on the floor.

“
Stop acting like children,”
he berated. “Stop with the rumors, stop spreading malicious lies,
and stop behaving like brats! If you would’ve adopted these
qualities, before, you’d have passed this very simple quiz! With
the exception of three,”—he held up three fingers for
emphasis—“just three, you all FAILED! You’re seniors. You’re about
to go to college. And in college, they don’t play around, you hear
me? They’ll kick you out. And they don’t care if you cry to your
mommies and daddies. You’re supposed to be adults, seventeen,
eighteen years old.” He slammed his fist against the table. “So act
like it, dammit!”

Everyone’s shoulders slumped, even Edie’s,
and they sat in silence. The bell rang and they still didn’t move,
waiting for him to dismiss them. He did with a sharp wave of his
hand and everyone scampered out.

Diana grimaced. “Ooh, boy. I wonder who
passed.”

“
I know I didn’t,” Edie
said. “I didn’t even study.”

“
Well, no more gossiping in
Mr. B’s class,” Madelyn cautioned.

“
But I do want to know about
Ravenna,” Edie said. “Who would know, besides Candie? I don’t think
she’ll give me the 411.”

“
I’ll ask around,” Diana
said, “then text you and Maddie the details.”

Edie realized that neither of them had her
number.

She gave it to them, and said, “Let me know
the second you hear something. I’ve never liked Ravenna, but I’ve
never wanted anything to happen to her, either.”

“
What was Candie going on
about you being a witch?” Madelyn asked.

Edie sighed, shaking her head. “It’s
something Rochelle came up with to explain why she’s such a failure
in life. Blaming others for her problems, I guess.”

Although maybe she was
right, but Edie wouldn’t dare tell Diana and Madelyn that she might
be a witch.
That’s worse than admitting I’m
possibly insane.
I think.

The warning bell rang for everyone to hurry
to their next class, and the three girls said their goodbyes. But
Edie turned back inside Russell’s classroom, to return his lecture
notes. He’d already picked up the papers that’d fallen on the
floor. Now he was sitting at his desk, staring at a blank space on
the wall. He looked disheveled. His hair was messy like he’d been
running his hands through it. His tie was undone and she noticed
that he hadn’t shaved that morning.

Without saying a word, she placed the stack
of papers next to his arm, and went to turn away, but he grabbed
her wrist, holding her in place.

“
Did I make a big fool of
myself?”

She smiled and he released her wrist. “Well,
you’ll give them something to talk about for a while. I’m sure
yelling at them has caused much of their attraction for you to wear
off. So…maybe it was a good thing you pitched a fit.”

Russell chuckled. “Yeah, well, they had it
coming. I’ve been biting my tongue for so long, but today, I
just…lost it. I think it had to do with you. Candie, the others,
the looks they were giving you, and then Candie calling you a
‘witch’…I couldn’t take it. I was defending you, but I also
realized how it would look—taking sides and adding more to the
suspicions—so I just tacked on all the other things I’ve always
wanted to say.” He looked into her eyes. “Are you all right,
Edie?”

“
Yeah, I already knew about
the witch thing. Ravenna accused me of that during lunch when I was
with Mason. Rochelle started the rumor, thinking I’m one.” She
shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe that would explain all the strange
things that have been happening to me.” Edie paused, and then
asked, “Who passed your quiz?”

“
Diana, Madelyn, and you,”
he said without a beat.

Edie shook her head. “No, that’s impossible.
I didn’t even study. I didn’t even know what to write. I was just
rambling on, making stuff up, really.”

Russell reached over on his desk and pulled
her quiz aside. It had a big one hundred written in red ink at the
top. “Well, here it is, Edie, and you got every question
right.”

She snatched up the quiz and scanned it
thoroughly. “I don’t remember writing any of this.” She handed it
back to Russell. “Seriously, I didn’t write that, and to be honest,
that doesn’t even look like my handwriting.”

“
Well, your name’s on it,”
he said, showing her flowing cursive script: Edie St.
John.

She shook head. “My life is just so…out of
control.”

“
But you seem happier,” he
said. “I saw you with Mason. Are you two together?”

She smiled, unable to contain her glee. “Yes,
we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Russell wasn’t smiling. “I’m happy for you,
Edie.”

“
Really?” she asked, because
he didn’t seem very happy.

Russell furrowed his brow. “Of course, why
would you think otherwise?”

She shook her head again. “Sorry. Rough day.
I’d better go.”

She checked her phone. No texts from Diana or
Madelyn.

“
Waiting for a call from
Mason?” Russell asked in a seemingly cold voice.

She dismissed his tone, thinking that she’d
imagined it. “Um, no, from my friends,” she said. “They were
supposed to find out what happened to Ravenna, about her car
accident. I saw her speeding away from Jack’s. She was going
awfully fast, mad at me, mad about everything, it seemed. I just
hope she’s okay.”

“
After accusing you of being
a witch, slandering you, you wish her good health?”

His voice was cold, as it’d been before, and
his face was dark and menacing. Edie backed away, scared, all too
familiar with that transformation in his demeanor. She’d
encountered it last night at her house and didn’t wish to go
through that again.

“
Whatever she’s said she
doesn’t deserve to be hurt,” Edie pointed out. “She’s just loyal to
her friend, that’s all.”

“
Loyalty,” Russell spat,
disgusted with the word. He stood, but didn’t advance. Instead he
placed his clenched fists on the desk, and hunched slightly over,
staring coldly at her. “Once upon a time, someone was loyal to me,
or so I’d thought. Have you ever been betrayed, Edie? Do you know
how it feels to know your loved ones are plotting against
you?”

Her heart was racing, scared. “Russell? Is
that you?” She hesitated, then reached out, and placed her hand on
his cold arm. A chill shot up her spine, as a cold-tipped finger
danced along her bones. “Russell?” she called out again, praying
for him to come back to her.

The shadow vanished from his face and warmth
flowed from his arm again. Russell looked down at her hand on him.
He pulled away. “Edie, you shouldn’t be touching me,” he warned in
his normal voice.

She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets.
“Sorry, you, just, well, I was concerned...”

Russell was no longer hunched over, his arms
now at his sides, palms open. “Concerned about what?”

She withdrew her hands and slid them across
her face, hoping to wipe the crazy off. “N-nothing,” she stammered.
I-I need to get to class.”

“
Wait,” he said, when she
turned to leave. “You’re already late. I’ll write you a
pass.”

“
Do you think that’s wise?”
she asked. “Given the rumors about us?”

“
You’re still my student,
and I’m still your teacher. If I can’t write you a pass, then I
might as well pack my bags and leave,” he said with a lopsided
smile.

When he was done, he handed her the slip of
paper, and their fingers touched. Despite their need to be
cautious, they let the moment linger, until she was the first to
break contact.

“
In all seriousness, do you
think I’m a witch?”

“
No, Edie, I don’t, but I do
think you’re very special, unique. And you’re not crazy, either.”
He gave her a small smile, devoid of happiness. “If anyone’s crazy
around here, it’s me.”

Not too long ago, he’d acted scary, not
crazy, and he remembered nothing about his previous behavior. Edie
thought that she’d imagined it, but perhaps Russell Ballantine
wasn’t quite right, either. It would explain why he was willing to
risk his job and reputation to be close to her.

“
Why do you think you’re
crazy?” she asked.

“
You’d better get to class,
Edie,” he said, refusing to answer her question.

She could see the look in his dark, gray
eyes: he wasn’t in the mood to reveal anything.

“
See you tomorrow, then,”
she said, letting him be.

“
Tomorrow, then,” he
returned.

He should’ve relaxed, but he didn’t, seeming
anxious. He resumed his seat and pretended to be busy, shuffling
papers around, avoiding her.

She caught a glimpse of his lesson plan book.
The handwriting was familiar. It looked exactly like the
handwriting on the quiz that she’d supposedly taken. She said
nothing, made no accusations. Russell was bent on protecting her
even to the point of losing his job.

She wondered why, when it seemed at times, he
was threatening her.

****

As she went to economics—with her thoughts
heavier than her backpack—she came to dismiss the possibility that
Russell had any ill will toward her. He was absolutely incapable of
that, she just knew it. She was either crazy and had imagined him
transforming into a hateful person, or she really was a witch (or
something supernatural of that sort) and her powers—if she had
any—had caused Russell to act strangely, as if he were a different
person.

Yes, these were crap theories, but it was all
she had to go on at the moment.

“
Hey, Edie!”

Edie turned before entering her next class
(that she was late for) to see Jules, smiling, as she approached
with wide eyes behind thick glasses.

“
Hey, Jules,” she greeted
back. “I’m surprised you want to be near me. Haven’t you heard the
rumors?”

Jules waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, I
heard, you being a witch and all. Actually, it’s kind of cool.
Witches are known to be conduits to the other side.”

Edie furrowed her brow. “Conduits? The other
side?”

Jules gave her a look. “Specters, Edie!”

“
Specters?” Edie repeated,
as if she’d never heard the word before.

“
Ghosts, Edie, ghosts! After
someone dies and they don’t go to Heaven or Hell, they get stuck
here, wandering around, trying to communicate with the living. I’ve
encountered spirits on my investigations, but I’ve only gotten
audio proof, no visual. Sometimes, nothing registers on our
instruments, but I’ve heard voices, and I’ve seen things move, as
if invisible hands were touching them. There are bad energies and
good energies. Oh, and once, I captured an event of automatic
writing, but Quinn”—she rolled her eyes —“accidentally burned up
the evidence with a match, so he could see when his flashlight went
out.” She shook her head, reminiscing.

“
Wait, what’s automatic
writing? And Quinn McDermott’s a ghost hunter?”

Jules nodded. “Yeah, Quinn’s been in GPS
since its inception. At first, he joined because he was into ‘Goth
chicks’—his words, not mine—but then, when he realized there are
spooky things out there, he was on board with investigating.
There’s nothing like being possessed to make you see the light,”
she said with a wry smile. “Oh, and automatic writing is when a
ghost takes control of you, to communicate by duh, writing; or you
can take a piece of paper and spill some ink on it, and a ghost, if
powerful enough, can write a message. I’ve only seen the latter.
The sample of automatic writing I got before Quinn destroyed it
was: help me.” She shivered, despite wearing a chunky sweater, and
then smiled. “Isn’t that just awesome?”

Edie was silent, processing what Jules had
said, the flood of information.

After a few seconds or minutes or hours, Edie
wasn’t sure, she asked, “Did you hear about Mrs. Featherstone
writing ‘fat girl’ over and over on the blackboard?”

Jules nodded. “Sad,” she commented
succinctly.

“
Well, I was wondering…could
that be a ghost, writing?”

Jules considered this, and then replied,
“Well, if it was, I’d say it was a poltergeist, you know, a mean
spirit, but why would the poltergeist communicate through Mrs.
Featherstone? What’s so special or should I say vulnerable about
her?”

Edie took Jules aside. “Can you keep a
secret?”