Chatoyant College Book 5: Parents' Weekend

Chapter 45: Against Her

Edie half-ran down the steps, only slowing down when she stumbled and had to catch herself on the railing to avoid falling down half a flight of steps. All she could think was that she had to get out of there.

She stopped when she reached the first floor and looked with some longing down the short hall of rooms. She could talk to Lorelei, couldn't she? Lorelei was always good for talking to. She was so calm and reasonable, she made you feel better. At least she seemed that way to Edie. She never judged anybody. It was what made her such a good RA.

But no. Edie shook her head and pushed the door open. It was dark, but at least the rain had stopped. She couldn't stop and talk to Lorelei. For one thing, Corrie and Dawn would find her quickly that way. And if she explained what had happened to Lorelei, she was sure the RA would take their side. After all, she was the one who'd told them about the faeries. She was the one who had been cursed.

She walked quickly through the quiet campus, her own breathing harsh in her ears. It didn't even matter if Leila was a faerie. It could be true. So what? Corrie and Dawn and Annie were the ones assuming that meant she was bad. Not all the faeries were bad, were they? Professor Lal was good. Ever certainly seemed to be good.

After a while she was panting with exertion and decided to sit down, her back against the science building. The wall was cool and damp, the grass still wet, but she didn't care. There was a little light here from the lamp over the door. She rummaged through her bag, looking for her cell phone. She was a little calmer now and she could call Leila. But she couldn't find it. She must have left it in her room again.

Well, she knew where to look for her now. She heaved herself to her feet, threw her backpack back over her shoulder, and marched down the path, back to the east of campus where the environmentalist co-op was. She had to stop outside the door again to catch her breath, then tried the door. It was locked; apparently she wasn't allowed in at night. So she knocked.

After a moment someone answered the door. "Uh, sorry, we're not open to Hillel on Sunday nights," said the girl, looking confused. "You looking for someone?"

Edie nodded impatiently. "Leila."

The girl shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know her."

Edie crossed her arms. Was everyone just against her today? How could this girl be claiming not to know someone who lived here with her? There weren't more than fifteen people living in the co-op, and they all worked together, so they had to know each other. Then she realized she was being uncharitable. Maybe this girl was just hanging out with some friends. "Can you ask someone who lives here?"

The girl raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. Clearly, she thought Edie was being stupid. "I do live here. No one named Leila lives here. You're going to have to look somewhere else." She slammed the door in Edie's face.

Edie turned away and kicked ineffectually at the ground. So she had been right the first time. Everyone was against her, everyone wanted to lie to her. She knew Leila would tell her the truth, but Leila was nowhere to be found. She was most likely in her room, but Edie wasn't being allowed in.

But she might not be in her room. She did love trees. Maybe she was in the orchard again. Feeling energetic and hopeful, Edie turned again and jogged around the building into the orchard.

It took her more than twenty minutes of walking and squinting around tree trunks in the very dim light—the moon barely made it through the leaves, even of the sicklier trees—before she finally admitted that Leila was not there. Drained both physically and emotionally, she slumped against one of the sturdier trunks. Something pressed into her back. She straightened up to look and realized it was her backpack. She had, after all, left her room intending to find somewhere quiet to do her homework. She should just go to the library.

At this time of night, the library was nearly silent. The guy behind the desk, his feet up on the extra chair and a thick textbook in his lap, barely gave her a nod as she went by. There were three students typing away at computers who must have papers due on Monday morning. Edie found herself a small table, tucked away in the stacks, and started her French homework. When drops of water fell on the textbook, she just brushed them away.