The Hidden (Heartfire) (8 page)

Gone.

"Lisetta!" He whispered her name harshly. He was growing nervous, afraid. He didn't want to miss a moment of this. Their long awaited secret meeting. It had been weeks since he last saw her face, held her, touched her.

Today he had something important to tell her.

Hands closed over his eyes suddenly, making him jump in fear. But the hands were delicate, soft. They followed him as he tried to spin around. A girlish giggle warmed his ear. A sweet, familiar scent washed over him.

"Pietro..." She caressed his neck teasingly before releasing him. He turned around, reaching for her. This time he caught her easily. She was ready to be caught.

He looked down at her. His beautiful girl. His forbidden girl. Her dark hair curling around her jaw, the gentle curve of her cheek. She stared at him with her large brown eyes. She reminded him of a doe, something wild, but temporarily tamed.

Pietro watched her carefully as he lowered himself onto his knee. He held her hand tightly, certain she would bolt.

The mischievous look in her eyes was replaced by astonishment as he pulled something out of his pocket. A ring. One his father had given to him when he became a man.

He looked up at her, his handsome face solemn. They were not supposed to be there in the orchard. They were not supposed to venture to this hill, overlooking his home and hers. They were supposed to be enemies, not lovers. But they had been drawn to each other from the start, from the first time he had seen her sweet little face in the square. Before his mother yanked him away. Before her father drew the hood of her cape down. He had seen her. She had seen him. And they had known.

Present Day

Professor Weilright sat behind his desk, looking over the folder. Not just any folder. This was
her
folder. It was overstuffed with papers and notes and God knows what. Lizzy could see red writing here and there, making corrections, comments, leaving a final unsatisfactory mark. God knows there had been enough of those this year.

She shifted in her chair impatiently. A slim girl with long golden brown hair, she was prettier than she thought she was. But even if she knew, she wouldn't have cared.

She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. How long was this going to take? She knew what he was going to say to her anyway. She didn't really need an encore of what she'd heard from three other teachers already.

Her fingers drummed the armrest of the stiff backed chair. The sound must have been kind of annoying because Professor Weilright stared at her pointedly. Lizzy stopped drumming.

The office was dim, a bit dusty, but comfortable. She wondered idly the last time Professor Weilright had straightened up. The leaded glass windows didn't let in much light, but maybe the was a good thing.

The Forsythe academy was ancient. The ultra exclusive prep school had been in existence for two hundred and thirty seven years, and the formerly private estate it resided in, at least one hundred more. Some of the girls complained about the drafts and creaky floorboards but secretly Lizzie liked it.

It reminded her of the Museums she had visited as a child with her mother. It was... substantial. There wasn't much she liked about being sent away to boarding school but there was that.

She liked old shit. It was a good thing too, all things considered.

Professor Weilright exhaled and leaned back in his chair. She looked up sharply, sensing that the moment was at hand. Here we go.

"Elizabeth-"

"Lizzy."

"Lizzy. You are a smart girl."

"Thank you."

"You are a very smart girl who is either purposefully failing or is obviously suffering from..."

She looked at him expectantly. This ought to be good. Lizzy leaned forward in her seat as he peppered her with rapid fire questions.

"Drug addiction?"

"No."

"Eating disorder?"

"Um, no!"

"Teen pregnancy?"

"At an all girls school? That would be impressive, but no."

He held up his hands.

"Okay Lizzy, I tried.
 
We are supposed to ask these questions. But with you I suspect it's more complicated than that. Have you been keeping up your sessions with Dr. Allen?"

"It's a waste of time. Dr. Allen doesn't know his ass from his elbow."

It looked for a moment as if Professor Weilright agreed with her when he struggled to conceal his smirk. It was too bad she had decided not to try this year. Professor Weilright was smarter than most. His class was almost enjoyable.

Almost.

"Well, be that as it may part of your acceptance at this school was contingent on your... continued therapy sessions."

She looked out the window over his head, at the floor, anywhere but at him. Her mental health (or lack thereof) was by far her least favorite topic of conversation. Of course, adults always wanted to talk about it. They thought they could understand, make sense of it somehow. Solve the puzzle girl and win the prize.

But she knew they couldn't.
 

"Not to mention you are failing my class. You won't be allowed back for senior year if you can't get a C minus at the very least. And continue with Dr. Allen."

Her fingers started tapping again as she studied the pattern in the faded afghan carpet. It really was a lovely shade of aubergine. Aubergine. That was whale puke, right? Yum.

"Lizzy. Lizzy!"

She took a deep breath and looked back up at him. It was time to face the music. Might as well do it with some dignity.

"You don't want to fail do you?"

She shrugged. Lizzy had learned long ago not to fight city hall. Or her own lack of interest in pleasing the powers that be. Apathy was the safest course. Besides, she'd noticed that adults were more than happy to brush lost causes under the carpet. If she didn't have wealthy parents, or an annoying ability to do well on standardized tests, she wouldn't be at this school to begin with.

"Do you want to be sent home to repeat the eleventh grade in... dare I say... public school?"

"No.
 
I mean, no I don't want to go home." It was true. As much as she resented being shuffled off half way around the world, getting sent back in disgrace would be much worse. Much. Her stepmonster would never shut up about it.

Plus she couldn't leave Al to face the wolves alone.

"But you don't really like it here, do you?"

"It's alright."

He stared at me over his folded hands. 'Alright' wasn't the response you expected when asking about one of the best schools in Europe. But she never lied. It wasn't because she was on some moral high horse.

She was just too lazy.

"So, what are we going to do about this?"

"Pass me anyway?"

Lizzy looked up at him hopefully, doing her best puppy dog eyes. He frowned, not buying it. She sighed. She knew he wouldn't. It was one of the things she liked about him.

she quickly lost respect for people who took things at face value. Especially when sarcasm pretty much leaked out of her bones in this sort of situation. She didn't like confrontation. Lizzy went out of her way to make it as uncomfortable for everyone else around her as well.

"I wouldn't be doing you any favors with a free ticket.
 
No, you are going to do an extra credit make up essay.
 
On which I will base..."

Professor Weilright riffled through his desk for his grade book. He traced his finger down the column marked 'Elizabeth Cutler'. She leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of her. It's was a pathetic line of F's with one D and a B minus. He caught her looking and slammed the book shut.

"One hundred percent of your grade."

He was being overly generous. She knew it. He had been giving her sorrowful looks all semester. If he was trying to make her feel guilty, it had worked. Just not enough for her to start caring again.

The funny thing was, she used to care. Used to sit at her desk until she had completed all her assignments, most of which came almost too easily to her. Lizzy had a brain like a sponge, only having to read something once before knowing it by rote. A couple of years ago her marks were an unbroken line of straight A's. That's how she ended up in a school that catered to the wealthiest families in Europe. Lot of good it had done her.

One day she woke up and just didn't feel like trying anymore.

Lizzy sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. He was trying to help, she knew that much. Besides, what choice did she have?

"What kind of essay?"

"For you I think something juicy... something to get riled up about yes?"

That sounded as appealing as whale puke.

"Okay. What?"

"You said you were spending the summer in Italy with your family didn't you?"

She nodded cautiously. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. She could see a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

"That sounds relaxing. Laying by the pool, eating pasta... exploring the state of women's rights during the past few centuries."

She groaned.

<<<<<>>>>>

Students milled around the courtyard, revealing in the afternoon sun and the promise of summer. The school was perched high in the mountains which meant it never really got warm here. But the sun was shining and soon we would all be gong home.

Or wherever.

Lizzy walked around the periphery, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. It didn't work.

Heads swiveled to watch her as she walked through. Everyone knew who Lizzy was. Everyone knew just enough of her story to know she'd been in a mental hospital. She didn't care what they thought. She just didn't want certain, specific people bothering her.

Not today.

A group of tall Nordic looking girls caught sight of her as she skirted the crowd. They smirked at each other, snickering as she passed. Fantastic. Lizzy resisted the urge to look down at herself, to see what had set off their mean spirited giggles. Not that she was s sharp dresser by any stretch of the imagination, but she was wearing a damn uniform.
 

Lizzy almost sagged in relief as a sultry looking blond with cats eyes led the group out of the courtyard Megan was their ringleader and the most popular girl in school. Or at least, the most feared. She had some sort of vendetta against Lizzy for some unknown reason.

Lizzy had a sneaking suspicion that Megan was the one who'd gotten into the school's confidential files and spread the word about her hospitalization.

Lizzy did her best to ignore her. It wasn't easy.

At the far corner of the yard there was a copse of trees and shrubbery. She darted behind them as soon as no one was looking.
 

Nestled in the greenery was Alberta, a cherubic English girl with mousy brown hair and round glasses. She sat on a decrepit old bench, palming a smoke.

"Oh, it's just you. I thought it was one of the wardens."

Sometimes Alberta liked to pretend the exclusive girls academy was a reform school for wayward girls. Lizzy wasn't even sure they still had reform schools, but it wasn't too far off. It might be one of the best schools in the world academically but the thin wool blankets were straight out of 'Oliver.' Most of the girls brought their own bedding. Lizzy was too proud to ask her dad and stepmother to ship stuff from America, so she was stuck with a couple of extra wool blankets she'd snagged from the housekeeping staff.

Of course, she had to share them with Al. Her gran was too cheap to send her anything extra. Like Lizzy, Al had lost a parents. Both of them. Lizzy had just lost one, even though it felt like they both disappeared forever that day.

She sat down next to Alberta on the bench, ignoring the dead leaves and moss. Not like you would notice a grass stain on the navy pleated skirts they had to wear.
 

"How'd it go then?"

Lizzy glared at Al, taking the cigarette and dragging deeply.

"That good, eh?"

She grunted and pulled on the smoke. Lizzy was beyond words. Alberta chuckled. She thought she was funny apparently. It was a good thing she did since they girls had been roommates for the past two years and the best friends in the whole world. Lizzy smiled at her wanly and gave her back her cig.

"Not as bad as I thought."

"Good." Al stood and chucked the cig into a pile of butts under the tree. "Well come on then, we better pack."