The Academy

Chapter Seventeen

Warren never showed up.

         I know, big shocker. Sarcasm, of course.

         After the Beaumont Ball, back in our dorm room, Marisol cried for half an hour straight about being introduced when dateless, while Lindsay, Carlisle, Aspen, Ivy, and I had all crossed the stage with cute guys on our arms. Fortunately, she kept it together when her name was announced, but right at eleven, when the ball ended, she rushed into a cab, me following right behind her, and she burst into tears as she closed the taxi door. She drove back to the dorms by herself, and Tatum dropped me off at the entry of Beaumont Academy, kissing me goodbye and thanking me for inviting him.

         "I can't believe I was stupid enough to invite him as my date," she wailed. She was laying on her bed, a blanket covering her face, and the bed creaked as she sobbed. I was having some serious deja vu with Aspen in the exact same spot, crying with the same blanket over her head, but for a completely different reason.  

         "He's a jerk, Marisol. You're better off without him."

         "I know, but I think there will be a part of me that will always love him. I don't know why, I just know that I'll always feel something for him, no matter how much he hurts me."

"That's understandable," I told her, rearranging my cluttered desk. It had been bothering me for weeks now. I kept losing stuff in the pile. Something feel off of my desk, making a clanging noise on the ground.

         I bent down to pick it up. It was the key that I had gotten from Vivienne's yearbook. I had totally forgotten about it.

         I stuffed the key into the sweatpants that I had changed into after the Beaumont Ball and made a note in my mind to tell Carlisle about it as soon as possible. For some reason, I felt like she should know about it.

         "What should I do?" She pulled the blanket away from her face. Her eyes were puffy and red from her tears.
     Marisol seemed like she wasn't crying as much as she had before, right after the Beaumont Ball. Now, she was just sniffling.

"I think you need to confront him and tell him how it made you feel. Let him know that you no longer want to date him, and you should try to move on. There really isn't much you can do, Marisol, unless you want to keep dating him and risk that he may just hurt you again."

         "I don't want him to hurt me again."

         "Then you need to break up with him."

         She sighed loudly and covered her face back up with the blanket. "I hate boys."

         "Marisol," Carlisle said in the doorway of our dorm room, "are you okay?"

         "I'm angry and mad," she said, her voice faint under the blanket. "And I'm sad, too."

         Carlisle sat down on the bed beside Marisol's unmoving body and patted her head. "He's a jerk. You know this, Marisol. He's hurt you way too many times. It's your fault that this happened because you continue to put your trust in him."

Marisol pulled the blanket away, her expression as if Carlisle had slapped her in the face as hard as she possibly could. "It's my fault?"

"Yep. You allow him to keep doing the same thing, expecting different results. You're better than that, Marisol. Although it may not seem like it, you've got the power to control how he treats you. Either you can keep coming back to him like a little loyal puppy, or you can realize that you deserve a guy who treats you right, won't stand you up at the Beaumont Ball, and will never pressure you to have sex with him."

         Marisol nodded slightly. "I do."

         "Then listen to me." Carlisle pulled the blanket away from her. "Buck up and continue on with life. But now, your life will be better, because you won't have him weighing you down."

         Marisol took the blanket away from Carlisle and spread it out on her bed. "Thanks. Right now, I think I'm just going to go to bed."
         Carlisle smiled, realizing that she was successful, and began to make her way to the hallway.

         "Carlisle?"

         She turned around and looked at me. "Yeah?"

         "Can I show you something?"

She raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Sure."

We both walked out to the hallway, closing my dorm room door so Marisol wouldn't be able to hear us. I took the key out of my pocket and held it in front of her.

         "What's this?"

"In one of the yearbooks in the library, this key was glued onto Vivienne Aldridge's picture."

         Carlisle furrowed her eyebrows, took the key from me, and inspected it carefully. "This isn't a dorm room key or a staff room key. Very weird." She slid it into her pocket without asking me. "Tonight, you, Lindsay, Aspen, Marisol, and I are going to figure out what this unlocks. At midnight, everyone be downstairs in the foyer, wearing all black. You tell Marisol, I'll tell the others." She began to walk away, but turned back around to say one last thing. "We will figure this out tonight."

I twisted open the doorknob to the door and opened it. Marisol was standing right in front of the door.

"I heard," she said, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Let's play spy."