The Psychopath Maker

Chapter Sixteen

A week had passed and Isabeth sat on Fiona's bed with her back against the wall. She flipped through the pages of Vogue as she sipped the ginger-lemonade she picked up from the café after practice. No heavy knocks pounded against her dorm room door or armed men showing up to her class seeking to arrest her. Isabeth was waiting for the other shoe to drop but it hadn't. So instead of waiting for Kyren PD to arrest her in the quad, she let the spicy ginger and tart lemon ease her upset stomach.

     With the windows up and the door open, Fiona intricately braided Harper's thick, curly tresses as Faith Evans, Beyoncé, and Mary J. Blige sang soulful ballads from the docked phone. The girls took full advantage of the rare free time under the prying eyes and ears of Dorm Mother Kathy. The girls of Primrose had one day of freedom per week, which took place while Dorm Mother Kathy visited her round and ready to pop pregnant daughter.

     "Don't forget to use the coconut oil," Isabeth said sitting her empty cup on the polished wood floor. Harper held up the glass jar of oil that was hidden behind her leg.

    Isabeth laid on her side hoping a change of position would elevate her nausea. Things in the clique were almost on track. Kevin apologized to Isabeth yesterday for the altercation in the gym and she told him she wasn't the one he owed an apology. Kevin could now get a hello and bye from her but until he apologized to Benny there would be no conversations or hanging-out

     Maya, who was at Brittany's desk highlighting new vocabulary terms, stopped dragging the orange highlighter across the paper, "When's Brittany coming back?" She swiveled in the chair. "I don't want her to catch me in her bed."

      "I don't know." Fiona twisted a rubber band at the end of Harper's braid. "Richard called me late last night looking for her. I think she's pulling another one of her disappearing acts."

     "I don't think she would do that." Harper fidgeted on the pillow that cushioned her butt from the hard floor. "After the last time, she vowed to never do it again."

     "She promised that once before, remember?" Isabeth slipped her hand underneath her half-button uniform shirt to rub her stomach. "Then she spent a week with Roberto in Spain."

      Maya swiveled around in her chair, "Remember the party marathon in Milan that migrated to Procida."

      "She makes that same promise every time she gets caught." Fiona grabbed a spray bottle filled with water off the floor. "I told Richard I didn't know where she was." She half shrugged as she combed her hands through a clump of Harper's tangled hair. "The last time I saw her, she was fully focused on work."

      "That's typical of Brittany." Isabeth chimed watching Harper cringe as Fiona's fingers got stuck in a knotted tangle. "After a long stretch of working, she loses her drive and goes off the rails."

     "Maybe she's with Dr. Fulton." Harper unfolded her long legs while rubbing the baby hair curling along her edges. "Cause some sheriff showed up to the Welcome Center to search his office."

    "Why is a sheriff looking for Dr. Fulton?" Isabeth's voice rose as she popped up. She sat her hand on her sharp collarbone as the acid from her stomach raged like the Aegean. She could hear the handcuffs ringing in her ears like sleigh bells.

     Harper's eyes and the head rolled to one side, "I don't know maybe because he's a creep with a hand problem." She air quoted as Fiona repositioned her head.

    "Hand problem?" Isabeth was going to air quote but stopped herself. She knew he had a problem. She just didn't know his problem migrated over. Now, she wondered how far he went with other girls on campus. Did they just get his hands or had any of her friends received the same treatment as her?

     Maya rummaged through her backpack, "The Perfect Princess has never been ordered to therapy."

      Isabeth rolled her eyes at the comment. If she wasn't a moral prune then she was a perfect princess. She wasn't going to take the bait and start name-calling.

     Harper held up the jar of oil so Fiona could moisturize her tresses, "Headmaster thought I was having problems since the anniversary of my dad's death was coming up and my GPA dropped." Harper sat up moving closer to Isabeth then Fiona pulled her back with a quick pat on the shoulder. "So, long story short, I was telling Dr. Fulton that my 'B' in English Lit slipped to a 'D' because my first language is Norwegian and he put his hand on my thigh." Harper's disgusted face gave birth to a crooked grin. "Mrs. Porter knocked on the door and I ran my English illiterate ass out of there."

   Maya laughed with her head still buried in her work but Isabeth couldn't find the humor.

   "Hey!" Fiona shouted to a fleeting shadow that passed by her door. "Where are you going?"

    Faith stood in the doorway in gray mini shorts and a blue sports bra. She took in the layout of the room, which wasn't that different from her own. The warm earth tones produced strong tranquil vibes and a cool breeze flowed through the window the mingled with the air stirred up by the ceiling fan wafting jasmine and honeysuckle in the atmosphere.

     Faith hugged folding her arms, "I'm on my way to the gym. You can't keep abs this flat by laying around, gossiping." She rubbed her hand down her oblate stomach then prance off.

    "Did she say that to make us look bad?" Isabeth asked still looking at the doorframe trying to process the comment.

    "Hell no!" Fiona declared. She rubbed her hands down Harper's smooth cornrows. "Because I look good." She finished with a pat to her equally flat stomach.

Isabeth added an uneasy smile to their jovial laughter. She needed to talk to Benny. She jumped off the bed holding her sore stomach. 

If most of the girls knew Dr. Fulton had a problem then why was he still working on campus?