Blue Money | Nick Robinson

Chapter Nineteen: Ghosts

News spreads quickly, a match being dropped on a puddle of gasoline, the "Girl Shoots Fellow Student In Angry Rage" story blows up. It's casted across headlines to the point where my mom calls me and makes sure I'm okay. I lie.

The police question everyone that was in the library that night and anybody who knows anything about the shooting is encouraged to step forward with information.

Did Layla Amaya plan this? What did she say before her and your classmate fought? How many of you did she threaten? Is there any reason why she would want to hurt you?

It went on for too long and I swallowed down every terrible thing I wanted to spew about her. I hope she's rotting in jail but I know for a fact she's sipping a latte with the best lawyer money can buy to twist some sort of poor little rich girl story who went too far and didn't mean to hurt anyone. Maybe she didn't but the fact still sits in my mind like a heavyweight: Dawn is dead because of Layla.

The news reporters came shortly afterwards but we shut the gates on them, teachers and police urging them to give us students the privilege of privacy in this difficult time. Headmaster Calaway cancels classes for the week. Students flee to Paris and their beach houses to relax before being swept back into the midst of school.

I sit in my room. Eileen left as soon as it was possible, she left most of her stuff strewn across the bedroom so I assume she will come back at some point. It's lonely without her.

Blake is a ghost, he sits with me everyday, at every meal at the table that used to hold all of us. The laughter seems to linger on the smooth wood, memories of our once unbroken kingdom whispering to us as we eat in silence {minus} the noise of the jubilant chatter that surrounds us from others.

The only person I talk to is Savannah and it's only through email. She's spending her time in a lavish rehab center located in California as a requirement from the Judge because of her drug bust. She only gets an hour or so on the computer so we rapidfire send emails as if they're texts. She doesn't mention Dawn. I don't either. She asks about Nick and I tell her I don't know how he is. I'd have to find him first.

Nick is gone. He vanishes. He's left me with the shattered aftermath and I am too numb to feel angry at him. He didn't say goodbye, maybe he knew we aren't meant to be together. Our relationship had started falling apart the second it started; a spool of yarn unraveling, an old burning building to the ground until there's only ash left, a broken mirror; impossible to fix. I thought nobody else loved him as much as me and Layla had proved me wrong.

***

Two weeks after it happens I am still moving through the halls like an empty shell. There is nothing in me anymore. I am pure coldness. Ghosts linger in the hallways and around me, every where there is a memory I can no longer enjoy it feels like knives going through my gut. I need to leave this place.

I go administrative building. It always smells like fancy candles and hand sanitizer. I hate it, there are also posters everywhere about "Getting The Right Education" also known as "Give us Money To Teach Your Kids Crap"

The lady behind the desk is Mrs. Holt. She's cranky and mean and wears expensive lipstick that always ends up on her teeth.

"Hi, I need to see the headmaster," I say. She looks at me like I'm stupid. I smile at her. She nods to one of the lounge chairs and I take a seat, tapping my nail on my knee.

I'm wearing my own clothes for what feels the first time in years. My jeans are ripped and I got my shirt at a thrift store 2 years ago. I feel like myself and not myself at the same time. Like a stranger is wearing my old clothes. Without Eileen or Savannah I don't have any fancy couture to trot around in. That never felt like me anyways.