The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove (34 page)

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Authors: Marta Acosta

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“Competitiveness isn’t always healthy. Go ahead and look so I can have

my meal in peace.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a ring of keys. “Read it,

return it to the archives, and bring my keys back before the end of lunch. It’s by

Roseanne Henley-Grunberg.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And, Jane?”

“Yes, Ms. Chu?”

“I was happy to see you speak up for your article and come to a good

solution with your editor.”

“Thank you.”

I raced back to the basement. I checked the file drawer with old articles.

There was nothing under H. I tried G. There it was, misfiled. When I skimmed

the piece, I didn’t see Bebe’s name.

I sat down on a desk and read more thoroughly, moving my finger under

the words to make sure I caught everything. “Bebe, Bebe,” I was saying to

myself. Then I saw the name Breneeta Brown. BB, like MV.

Breneeta was quoted as saying, “My parents were only children and when

they died in a car accident, there was no one to take care because all of my

grandparents were dead, too.”

There was no uncle.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

Chapter 19

“A student must present a doctor’s note if she is absent for three or more

days. If a student is absent for a total of ten days during a term, she may not

be eligible for class credit. Exceptions may be made for absences due to

extraordinary circumstances.”

Birch Grove
Student Handbook

HATTIE
was in the cafeteria, chatting to a pasty freshman. A
very
pasty

freshman. I’d been noticing the pale girls more. There were only a few in each

class and they always seemed to be aware of one another.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Hattie, could we talk?”

“Sure.” She took one look at my face and said, “Let’s go to the garden. It’s

quiet there.”

We crossed the drive and sat on a stone bench under a tree turning autumn

colors of yellow and orange. Hattie skin was perfectly smooth, and her hazel eyes

were as clear as a child’s. Of course, Jack would adore her.

I looked across the drive to the majestic androgynous stone angels guarding

the school’s entrance.

I said, “
Ut incepit fidelis sic permanent
.”

“‘As loyal as she began, so she remains,’” Hattie said. “The perfect motto

for a school established to educate Family girls and Companions.”

“Hattie, BB stood for Breneeta Brown, right?”

“She hated Breneeta, so we never called her that.”

“I looked up an interview she gave for the paper. Her parents were only

children and she had no living relatives.”

“What!”

“There’s more. Jack was the one leaving the notes. I caught him

yesterday.”

“Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. He told me what you already know – that his parents are

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

keeping something from him and Lucky about BB’s disappearance.”

Hattie pursed her lips and then said, “I never told Mrs. Monroe this, but

I’ve always thought that the ‘uncle’ was some guy BB met.”

“Jack said she wouldn’t have left Lucky.”

“That’s because Jack has the delusion that every girl is madly in love with

Lucky,” she said scornfully.

At first I thought she was talking about me, too, but she was looking away.

“So Jack’s wrong and BB
wasn’t
in love with Lucky?”

“No, she was definitely in love with him, but she could see that he’d never

treat her as an equal, only as someone to serve his needs.”

“So it’s entirely possible that BB left on her own?”

“I think it’s the most likely thing that could have happened. She was like

you --used to looking out for herself, and I know she was flirting with guys

online at the library.”

“The last time I went to there, I couldn’t log on the computers. And I saw

the library guy at the harvest ceremony. Could someone have blocked my library

account so I wouldn’t get into the online social networks?”

“Sure. The library dude is a thrall. Thralls are the people who serve the

Family. Isolating you encourages you to bond with The Family.” She looked at

me and said, “I was part of that, too. I told Mrs. Monroe about your friend at the

grocery store, but I made her promise not to have her fired.”

“Orneta got a transfer she wanted,” I said. “What else did you tell Mrs.

Monroe?”

“Let’s just say I was selective in giving information. She may be the

headmistress, but you’re my friend. At least I hope you still are.”

“I still am, Hattie.”

She smiled and said, “We’ll look out for each other, won’t we, okay, Jane?”

“We keep making deals, but, yes, we’ll watch each other’s back.”

After school, I phoned Lucky and asked him to come over.

“I’m busy,” he said.

“It’s important.”

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“I guess I can make it later.”

He didn’t say how much later, and by eleven, I’d thought he wasn’t going

to come. I changed into the pajamas I’d bought with Hattie, a rose-pink cami and

matching boxers. I’d finished brushing my teeth when I heard knocking.

I couldn’t find my robe, so I went to the front door as I was. I glanced

through the curtain and saw Lucky standing there impatiently. He was wearing a

charcoal-gray leather jacket over a black t-shirt and jeans.

I pulled my hair forward over the scar on my shoulder. When I opened the

door, Lucky said, “I thought you might have gone to sleep.”

“I thought you weren’t coming. You should have called.”

He gave me a chilly look. “I already have a mother.”

“Then you
are
lucky, aren’t you?”

His smiled and said, “I’m sorry, Jane.”

“You always do that, Lucky. You act so apologetic after you say

something rude. If you were more careful before speaking, you wouldn’t have to

apologize.”

“Correction noted,” he said. “What’s up?”

His eyes skimmed over my body and I knew he was looking at the marks

he’d made on me and looking for new places to draw blood, because of the way

his lips parted.

I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “I wanted to talk about BB. I

found out that she didn’t have an uncle.”

He walked to the bedroom and I followed.

“I didn’t think so,” he said.

“Hattie thinks she ran off with some guy, and Jack thinks something

happened to her. What do you think?”

“I think you’ve been talking to a lot of people. You look good, Jane. I like

seeing your skin.” He reached out and touched a bruise on my shoulder.

I asked, “What do you think happened?”

He kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket. His hair shone golden

against the dark t-shirt. “If Hattie said BB got sick of me and left, she’s probably

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

right. Hattie’s always right. Maybe I should have paid more attention to BB. I’m

not going to make that mistake again. Come here.”

I stood in front of him and he pulled me onto his lap. “I want you to enjoy

this, Jane.” He pivoted and laid me down on the bed. Then he pulled off his own

shirt and revealed his sleek chest.

He was so beautiful, but I tensed as he lay beside me and ran his hand up

my leg and up along my thigh.

“Lucky…”

“Ssh.” He nuzzled and kissed and bit and sucked at my neck.

Then his fingers slipped under the edge of my shorts and further up, making

me gasp.

And even though the sensation was amazing, I realized that I didn’t
like

Lucky, not that way. “Stop,” I said and pushed his hand away.

Lucky pulled back puzzled and said, “I thought you wanted that.”

I moved away from him and sat up. “I don’t. I want it to be just friends.

No more freaking on me. It’s all gotten too confusing.”

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m gonna draw a taste since I’m already here.”

He got up and went to the bathroom. When he came back with the

venipuncture tube, he said, “Can I do it behind your knee? There’s a good vein

there and you wear pants all the time.”

“Okay.” I turned onto my stomach and remembered that I was doing this

for a college education, for a home, for security. People sold their blood all the

time for less.

There was the sharp jab of the needle and I heard Lucky’s intake of breath.

A few seconds later, I felt him pull the needle out. He said, “No sense wasting

any,” and he bent to lick at the puncture mark.

“That’s enough,” I said.

“I’ll clean it.”

He got the first-aid kit and swabbed cold antiseptic on the puncture with a

cotton ball and stuck on a Band-Aid.

“You’ve gotten really efficient at this,” I said and sat up.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“Thanks. It’s better this way anyway, isn’t it? Less complications, because

I like you, but…” He gazed longingly at the tube of blood.

“I like you, too, but…” I said. “Maybe we can set up a regular schedule so

it won’t interfere with our classes and other things.”

“Sure. Gotta go.”

As I watched Lucky putting his shirt and jacket on, I realized that I’d

wanted him like some girls want a diamond ring, or an expensive car. I’d wanted

him as a beautiful
thing
and not as a person.

Lucky patted my head and said, “A few more days until the Initiation.

Sleep tight, Janey.”

After he’d gone, I got up to check the lock and turn out the lights. I went to

the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My neck was red where he’d sucked, but

nothing that I couldn’t cover with make-up.

When I went to sleep that night I dreamt that I was trapped in the school’s

dark secret passages. I called out for help, and then I saw the tunnel open up into

a room. Mrs. Monroe sat in a chair reading a book. I shouted, “Help me!”

She looked up from the pages and said, “I am helping you, Jane.

Knowledge is power.”

I heard something scary coming toward me and I ran through the low tunnel

into darkness. A wall was in front of me and there was no escape.

When I awoke, I was tangled in sheets and sweating. I opened the window

so I could feel the cool breeze and listen to the comforting song of the trees.

The next day, Mary Violet yanked me aside after Chem Ho and said, “What

is going on with you, Jane? You’re on another planet. Has something happened

between you and my future husband? Are you still tutoring him?”

“Yes, I’m tutoring him.” I wanted so much to confide in her. “What could

happen between us?”

“Oh, please, JW, I have two stunning blue eyes in my gorgeous blonde and

brilliant head. I’ve seen girls fall for Lucien Monroe since he was eating paste in

pre-school and I can diagnose the symptoms. The only reason
I’m
not madly in

love with him is because he’s too busy admiring himself in the mirror to worship

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

me.”

I laughed. “You still plan on marrying him?”

“He’s one of the nominees. I may hold out for a minor royal. Seriously,

JW, is everything okay?”

“Seriously, MV, I admit that I was dazzled by Lucky, but I’m so over that.

Right now I’m more concerned about my classes.” By this time next week, I’d be

Lucky’s Companion.

“Well, it’s an exceptional school for exceptional girls. I insist that you

come over for tea and we can review Chem Ho together.”

We walked to the Heyers’ after school, and I buttoned my jacket against the

cold.

MV’s brother and sister were chasing each other through the house and they

shrieked, “Hi, Jane!” as we came in. Mrs. Heyer came out of her studio to say

hello and invited me to go with them to the museum soon.

Mary Violet and I sat on the floral carpet in her room and went through our

chemistry assignment. When we closed our books, I said, “MV, HT says that BB

used to go online to meet guys.”

“Oh, juicy gossip! Yes, BB used to tell us about older guys who talked

dirty to her. She said she was looking for a sugar daddy.”

“Didn’t she have enough money with her stipend?”

“Old habits die hard. I didn’t know if she was serious, or trying to shock

us.”

“Could she have pretended that one of them was her uncle and run off with

him?”

“That’s the first thing I asked Mrs. Monroe, because even though BB’s an

emancipated minor, old guys are still creepy. Mrs. Mason said, no, she’d checked

the uncle out,” Mary Violet said. “I’m still mad at her.”

“At Mrs. Monroe?”

“No, BB. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was just another shallow

rich bitch to her.” Mary Violet blinked away tears. “Jane, promise you won’t

ever leave like that, without saying goodbye?”

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“I promise.”

“Do you think I’m a shallow rich bitch?”

“No, I think you’re a brilliant and beautiful poet and scholar.”

Her smiled cheered me up and she said, “Just for that I’m going to write a

poem in honor of you.”

I stayed for dinner and Mary Violet offered me a ride back, since it was

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