"This is what she had become."
=====
Cleopatra Banks' last week in the small town of New Chelsea is nothing like she would have imagined it, but nothing could have prepared her for the stinging betrayal she's faced with and suddenly the prospect of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Attention all twelfth grade students, please note that the second term results have been reviewed and it has been confirmed that the group average did indeed exceed 70%. Congratulations, prom is back on track and you will all be receiving your invitations duly. Please enjoy the rest of your afternoon," the receptionist's voice rings over the intercom just before the bell rings at the end of the day.
It's intensely quiet for a few seconds, then it's a party in my English class and from what I can hear, the rest of the school as well. I run a hand through my hair and my breathing becomes unsteady.
This doesn't make sense. The school is broke, how is prom back on track? I saw the evidence on Buttercup's table.
I place the back of my hand onto my forehead to check if I'm overheating but my temperature seems normal. I couldn't have imagined that, could I?
Something fishy is definitely going on here.
"Hey! Prom is back on, did you hear?" Natasha exclaims after ambushing me at my locker afterschool. I quickly remove my biology textbook from my locker and stuff it into my bag before turning to Natasha.
"Yeah, everyone heard," I reply, quickly sidestepping her so I can start making my way to Mrs. Cavendish's office. She set up one-on-one meetings for all her students and mine is in just a few minutes. "Hey, where are you going?" she asks, quickly chasing after me.
"I have a meeting with Cavendish right now," I reply. She comes to stand next to me, trying to keep up with my longer strides. "April told me what you did Cleo," she whispers, looking around to try and see if anyone is eavesdropping. "Oh."
"Don't 'oh' me, what did you do?" she looks around again and lowers her voice "The school doesn't have money for it," she whispers. I halt in my steps and turn around to face her.
"How did you know?" I ask. She rolls her eyes. "Like I said before, I'm a knower of things. You remember I did some journalism at the beginning of the year?" she asks and I vaguely remember that time she used to walk around with a camera around her neck on certain occasions, particularly before the Bridget saga. She used to take pictures and report for the school newspaper but then it suddenly stopped.
I didn't think too much of it because I didn't care.
"Principal Regan always used to get the newspapers to see if they were alright before we dispatched them to the rest of the school. This one time I went to his office to give him the papers but he wasn't there like he should have been. I decided to leave the papers there but just before I could leave I over-heard him on the phone. It was a super dodgy phone call so I stayed to listen.
"Bottom line was that he was working with someone and they were laundering money from the school. It's gone undetected because of course he has to cover his tracks, he's the only one who knows where all the money went. I was too scared to do anything about it so I left his office with the papers and made it look like I was never there in the first place.
