Coldhearted (9781311888433) (9 page)

Edie grimaced. “Isn’t that worse than
somewhere public?”

“
Well, I could say I was
having a meeting with your uncle to discuss your
studies.”

Could say? This was a bad idea, yet...

Resigned, she wrote down her address and cell
number on a slip of paper, and then handed it to him. “Tonight,
okay?”

He pocketed the paper and smiled. “It’s a
date.” He immediately frowned and started waving his hands. “No,
no, that’s not what I meant. Sorry.” He stopped waving and put his
hands into his pockets. She could see one hand, caressing the slip
of paper that she’d just given him. “I’ll, uh, be there. Around
six?”

Edie nodded, agreeing, and then left the
classroom.

Oh, boy!
What have I gotten myself into?

Edie had a horrible feeling that she’d set in
motion a series of unfortunate events.

Chapter 8

It was Edie’s last class of the day,
Spanish.

She’d been expecting it to sail smoothly—as
her previous two classes, economics and American government, had
done—but her hopes were crushed when she spotted Rochelle and
Ravenna, gossiping in the back of the classroom. The only available
desk was right in front of them.

Great.

“
That seat’s taken,”
Rochelle snapped.

“
Yeah, loser,” Ravenna
added.

Edie ignored them and sat anyway, as she held
onto Mason’s scarf, seeking strength and courage. Yet she didn’t
feel any better. In fact, she felt cold and sick. A dark shadow
seemed to be looming over her, terrorizing her. She dared to look
up and realized it was only Rochelle. But she was scary too.

She was eyeing Edie’s scarf through two
narrow slits. “Take it off,” she ordered.

Edie got mad, possessive of Mason and
anything he would give her.

“
No. It’s mine.”

Ravenna joined in. “Rochelle said: Take. It.
Off!”

By now, they were the main attraction. Every
student was staring at them, waiting to see who would throw the
first punch. Edie kept praying for the teacher to arrive, but she
was devastatingly late.

Rochelle snapped her fingers at Ravenna,
never looking away from Edie. “I can fight my own battles,
Rave.”

Ravenna fell back against her desk chair like
she’d been slapped.

Edie’s neck suddenly jerked, and she realized
it was Rochelle, trying to pull Mason’s scarf off her. “Hey, stop
it!” Edie yelled, tugging the scarf back. “What’s your
malfunction?”

Rochelle wouldn’t let go of the scarf. “I
told you Edwina if you’re going to play, you’d better be prepared
to get dirty.”

A cold blast of fury seemed to erupt all
around Edie, and before she knew it, Mason’s scarf was gone from
her neck. Edie thought it’d been Rochelle, victorious, but she’d
never touched it. In fact, the scarf was moving on its own toward
Rochelle’s neck, where it wound itself tight, choking her.

Ravenna shot off her seat, trying to rescue
Rochelle. The rest of the students sat paralyzed, watching in
horror as Rochelle was being strangled to death. Despite not liking
Rochelle, Edie couldn’t sit idly by and watch her struggle, so she
leapt up too and helped Ravenna.

Edie felt like she was fighting against some
unseen contender, trying to save Rochelle’s life. Finally, Ravenna
and Edie were able to free Rochelle; Ravenna had been holding her
friend, keeping her calm, while Edie had been unwinding the scarf.
It was in shreds now and Edie held it in her hands, wondering how
it’d magically made it from her neck to Rochelle’s. And why it’d
wanted to kill her.

“
Are you okay?” Edie asked
Rochelle.

Rochelle was trembling with her hand around
her throat, massaging it. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Edie
with absolute hate. “You,” she said in a scratchy voice, pointing
an accusatory finger at Edie. “You tried to kill me.”

Edie shook her head violently. “No, no, I
didn’t.”

“
Yeah, I saw you!” Ravenna
lied, expressing her loyalty. “You tried to kill my friend!” She
turned toward the class. “You all saw it, didn’t you? That bitch
tried to kill Rochelle!”

Edie’s mouth was agape, shocked. No one came
to her rescue. No one stood up for her.

“
I didn’t!” Edie
yelled.

But no one was listening because no one
cared.

“
What’s going on?” a
high-pitched voice demanded.

Edie turned to see the teacher, Mrs. Bellamy,
walk into the room. She’d finally arrived, and she was darting her
eyes between Rochelle and Edie.

“
Edwina tried to kill
Rochelle,” Ravenna lied, again. She snatched up the scarf from
Edie’s hands. “With this, Mrs. Bellamy,” she added, presenting it
as evidence. She waved the scarf at the class. “They all saw it!”
And then dramatically, she threw the scarf on the floor.

Edie picked it up and held it protectively.
Mrs. Bellamy approached Rochelle, scanning her worried face. Yes,
Rochelle was upset. Edie could see the look in her eyes; she
actually thought Edie had tried to kill her. Even though Rochelle
was scared, Edie could see fury in her eyes as well. She’ll have
her vengeance, I know it.

“
Let me see,” Mrs. Bellamy
coaxed, gesturing at Rochelle’s neck.

Rochelle tilted her head and winced. Mrs.
Bellamy gasped. “It’s bruised!”

“
See?” Ravenna said,
gesturing wildly at Edie. “Rochelle was attacked!”

Mrs. Bellamy left Rochelle and approached
Edie. “Edwina?”

Edie was speechless. Clearly, the scarf had
moved on its own and wrapped around Rochelle’s neck, trying to
squeeze the life from her. Edie was absolutely sure that she hadn’t
done it. And she didn’t believe the scarf was magical because it’d
been Mason’s, after all.

Someone had done it.

Yet…who?

****

Ravenna wailed when Mrs. Bellamy told her
that she had to remain behind.

After Mrs. Bellamy had gotten another teacher
to watch over the class, she motioned for Edie and Rochelle to
enter the hallway.

They were going to the principal’s
office.

Walking single file, Edie was in the front,
then Mrs. Bellamy, and finally Rochelle, trailing behind, as she
played up her wounds.

“
Edwina attacked me,” she
told every passerby.

Edie kept walking, suffering the looks of
students and teachers alike; all seemed to believe Rochelle, giving
Edie a wary eye.

When Principal Jennings saw Edie, she beamed,
unaware of the crime Edie had apparently committed. She frowned
when she saw Rochelle but said nothing. Mrs. Bellamy shut the
principal’s office door, and then remained standing between Edie
and Rochelle.

Principal Jennings had been sitting, but now
she stood, concerned. “What happened?” she asked, looking at
Rochelle.

“
Edwina…tried…to…kill…me,”
Rochelle said between fake sobs.

Principal Jennings gave her a disbelieving
look. “No, Rochelle, Edie did not try to kill you. What really
happened?”

“
There’s bruising on her
neck,” Mrs. Bellamy informed, but didn’t seem to be accusing Edie
of murder just yet.

“
She tried to strangle me
with that scarf!” Rochelle accused.

Edie was still holding Mason’s scarf in her
hands; the evidence in plain sight. She had it bunched up into a
ball.

“
Edie?” Principal Jennings
prompted.

Edie shook her head and found her voice. “I
didn’t do anything. Rochelle…Rochelle tried to take the scarf from
me. She pulled, I pulled back.” Edie shrugged. “Then…well…I don’t
know how it happened, but the scarf was around Rochelle’s neck, and
it was…” She trailed off, not wanting to sound crazy.

“
It was what?” Principal
Jennings prodded.

Edie bit her lip, and then replied, “It
was…strangling her.”

Principal Jennings looked away, processing,
and then she turned back toward Edie. “A scarf, on its own, tried
to strangle Rochelle?”

“
No, she did!” Rochelle
hissed. She rushed toward Principal Jennings’s desk. “Look!” She
tilted her head for the principal to see the bruises on her
neck.

Edie had to admit it—they looked bad—and in a
familiar pattern. Like bruising made by someone’s hand. Edie could
discern four fingers and a thumb.

Principal Jennings noticed it too. She put a
hand over her mouth and shook her head, shocked. She lowered her
hand to speak. “I’m sorry this has happened to you Rochelle. It’s…”
She trailed off, confused, worried, and then turned toward Edie.
“Edie, what happened?” She gave Edie a small smile. “I know you
didn’t do it, but—”

“
Yes, she did!” Rochelle
yelled at the top of her lungs, despite her injuries. “Edwina St.
John tried to kill me!” She gestured wildly at her own neck.
“There’s your proof! I want her arrested! I want her thrown out of
town! I want her out of my life!”

Mrs. Bellamy had been keeping silent,
listening, all throughout the hearing. Now she spoke up. “I wasn’t
there. I didn’t see. Ravenna Gallo, Rochelle’s friend, said it was
Edie, but….” Mrs. Bellamy shook her head and gave Edie a
sympathetic look. “I don’t think you did it either, Edie.”

Rochelle let out a shriek. “Why is everyone
taking her side?! You all think she’s some sort of…angel but she’s
not! She’s fooled everyone! She’s fooled Mason! I hate her! I hate
her! I. Hate. Her!”

Rochelle let out another shriek, but then she
was cut off, as her hands flew to her throat, holding tight. She
was choking herself. Mrs. Bellamy and Principal Jennings rushed and
managed to tear her hands away, holding them at her sides. Rochelle
was struggling against their hold, spitting curses at Edie. Edie
stood away, not wanting to get hit by either her hands or her
saliva, which was assuredly acidic.

Suddenly, the door flew open.

“
Russ—Mr. B,” Edie quickly
corrected herself.

Russell entered, shut the door, and then
remained standing near it. Edie could tell in his dark, gray eyes
that he wanted to be near her instead.

“
What’s going on?” he asked
anyone in the room who would answer.

Rochelle fell limp. The principal and the
teacher let her go but stayed close just in case. “Mr. B,” she
cooed. “Look what Edwina did to me.” She gestured at her neck, the
bruises more pronounced since she’d been trying to strangle
herself.

Russell shook his head. “No, Edie wouldn’t do
that. That’s impossible.” He finally came to stand next to Edie and
gently laid an arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right,
Edie?”

Rochelle growled. “You?!” she accused
Russell. “You too?!” Her eyes were wide and suspicious, darting
back and forth between Edie and Russell.

Russell let Edie go and approached Principal
Jennings. “What happened?”

Rochelle spoke up instead. “Edie,” she said
with malice, “tried to strangle me with that scarf!”

Russell’s forearms were tense, veins popping,
and his hands were clenched in agitation. “When I came in, you were
being forcibly restrained, as if you were trying to hurt yourself.
Fess up Rochelle. You did it the first time too.” His arms and
hands relaxed. “You did that to yourself”—he made an accusatory
gesture at her bruised neck—“to get Edie into trouble.”

Rochelle was speechless, stunned.

“
We know your track record,”
Principal Jennings spoke up next. “What you accused Mr. Ballantine
of earlier this year.”

Rochelle found her voice. “I lied then, but
I’m not lying now!” She stamped her foot against the floor. “I
didn’t try to kill myself! It was her!” She pointed an accusing
finger at Edie.

Russell moved to stand protectively in front
of Edie, thinking she was about to be attacked. To Principal
Jennings, he said, “Edie’s been through so much. May she leave?
I’ll be glad to escort her out.”

“
I bet you would,” Rochelle
spat.

Mrs. Bellamy laid a cautious hand on
Rochelle’s shoulder. “Rochelle, tell the truth.”

Yet Rochelle was silent, staring at Edie,
then Russell with hateful eyes.

Principal Jennings gave her approval for
Russell and Edie to leave. Edie didn’t look back, not even when
Rochelle called her a “bitch.” She released more obscenities that
were muffled when the principal slammed her office door.

Russell steered Edie by the elbow into the
student lobby, where he guided her toward a sofa, and they sat,
side by side. The scene looked mildly scandalous, until it became
eye-popping, when he took her free hand in his; her other hand
still held onto Mason’s tattered scarf.

“
Edie, are you okay?” he
asked softly, massaging her skin with gentle thumb
strokes.

Edie didn’t answer him. Instead she pulled
her hand away from Russell’s embrace and stuffed the scarf into her
coat pocket. Feeling sick, she wrapped her arms around her stomach,
rocking back and forth, as she held back the urge to vomit.

“
She deserved it,” Russell
said in a deep voice, almost a growl.

Edie stopped rocking and turned toward him.
“What’d you say?”

Russell shook his head, confused by Edie’s
question. “I didn’t say anything.” He took the back of his hand and
laid it gently against her forehead, but then quickly removed it,
realizing he was playing doctor. “You don’t have a fever,” he
confirmed.

“
Why would you think that?”
she asked.

“
You don’t look well.” He
appraised her shivering. “And you always seem so cold. I know
Grimsby’s not the Caribbean, but…it’s not Antarctica.”