Change Of Season (37 page)

“You’ve been wonderful,” Autumn said hoarsely.  “Safe.  I came here wanting to be alone, but you just… You were there, and you belonged.”

“You belong, too.” 

“Ilse,” Autumn blurted out.  “No wonder you pushed so hard to play her.”

Veronica nodded.  “The sexual abuse plot… I needed to channel the lingering pain into art.”  With a little shake, Veronica stretched out her legs.  “The first time I tried to date again was last summer at Drama camp, but I just… I was too closed off still.  I didn’t trust him.  He was another near stranger, you know?  I took the whole ‘ignored by guys at school’ thing as a blessing after that.  Evan was the first guy I liked since Jamie, but I didn’t dare approach him.”

“But now you’re together.”

Veronica grinned.  “Yes, and I think the years of friendly talk and seeing him date other girls helped.  I saw him look after those girls and knew he’d be good to me, if he ever noticed me.”

“Does he know?”

Veronica nodded.  “I told him after the dance.  It was so soon, but we just clicked, and I wanted him to understand that if I flinched, or got nervous, it wasn’t him.  He was so kind.  He never drinks if I want to.”

Autumn nodded.  “I noticed that the other week, when he brought you back here.”

“My bodyguard.  Cue the Whitney,” Veronica quipped.  “Speaking of guys…”

“Andrew.”  Autumn groaned.  “I need to get myself together.  I can’t go there, not with all of this
mess
in my head.”

“It makes sense now.  I suspected there was something big behind your sudden dodging, but I didn’t want to pry.”  Veronica tapped her fingers on the desk absently, thinking.  “He’s really sad.  I saw him this morning and he was moping.”

“I feel like shit about it,” Autumn said.  “But I can’t.”

“I know.  It’s okay.  I just… He’s your Evan.  I see it in him.  Which is why I know he’ll wait for you.”

Autumn flopped backwards, closing her eyes in frustration.  “Topic change, please?”

“Gotcha.  What’s the deal with the blogger boy?”

“He’s meeting me here on campus Sunday,” Autumn replied.  “Very paranoid. Says he can sneak onto campus.”

“You think he’s onto something?”

Autumn shrugged.  “Maybe.  It’s worth exploring.  I mean, even you said Nikki didn’t make sense… If something is behind it, it could help us help her move on.”

“True.  I’d want to come with you, but I’m home this weekend.  I could swing by Sunday night.”

“Sure.”

Veronica giggled.  “Oh and another topic:  you’re signing up for the charity concert.”

Autumn sat up.  “V, seriously?”

Her friend shook her head, winking.  “Not taking any answers that aren’t in the affirmative.  Creative Writing needs a superstar duo, and Evan really wants you on tap.  You’ve performed before!”

“Not for a few years.”

“Well, consider it a comeback!  Besides, the money’s going to research for Traumatic Brain Injury.  Good cause.”

Autumn grimaced.  Her great-grandfather was a war veteran.  How could she ignore a medical nightmare affecting so many soldiers coming home from overseas, let alone cases from accidents here at home?

“Damn it. I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Yay!”  Veronica clapped excitedly, reaching for her phone.  “Evan will be so happy.  He wants to do Pink Floyd and you know all the best songs have Waters and Gilmour harmonizing.”

“I can’t disagree.  You’re using my love of music against me, and that’s incredibly cruel."

The blonde shrugged, smiling.  “All’s fair, my dear.  And… done!  So, shall we take a break?  I think I saw another Chip Coffey special in the
Paranormal State
queue.”

Autumn laughed.  “Alright, load it up.  I could use a laugh.”

She remembered Emma as Veronica clicked and typed, humming cheerfully to herself. 
Every person who loves you and knows can take a little piece of it for you
.  She
did
feel lighter now.  She had an ally, a true one who knew her scars and didn’t recoil in revulsion.  It was a little less lonely in the darkness now, and it was this glimmer of hope that she sat down to journal about when Veronica bid her goodnight, heading off to pack for her weekend home.

I confessed today.  Bless me, Doctor, for I have sinned.  It’s been ten months since my confession to Miraj, who had to be restrained, switchblade immediately in hand.  Hail Mary Sunshine, full of torment and fallen from grace.

Veronica  is so strong.  I look at her through the lens of her violation, watch her smile and dance, and envy her.  She’s found freedom from the shackles of her past.  She has a wonderful boyfriend, immense talent, and a good heart.  Giving.  As often as I rage about how dangerous friendship is for me, I’m grateful she persisted.  I need her, more than ever.

It’s such a tall mountain to climb, this mess of emotion stuck to my shoes.  It weighs me down, pulls me back under the surface.  Gulped seawater and kelp in my fists.  I need a foothold.  I need a life preserver. 

Laughter boomed in the quad below and she glanced down, watching several seniors jostle each other playfully. 
I used to be that girl
, she mused. 
Playful.  Light
.  There were moments now, but they were fleeting – teases of a life that could have been.  Should have been, if
he
hadn’t robbed her blind.

Could she ever find it again?  Her music looped, the same song on repeat for the last half hour.
   Pretend to be fine, or be alone? 
It wasn’t a difficult choice, here in suburban isolation. 

She’d never been great at acting.

Her eyes drifted towards the Media Studies building reflexively, widening as a familiar form in black leather briskly cut across the quad towards Trudeau Hall.  Veronica believed he was the one who – like Evan had done for her friend – could restore her faith. 

His eyes cast upwards and she startled as he froze mid-stride.  With a sad smile, he pressed onward, head down.  Would she ever be ready to trust again?

“Not yet,” she whispered to the music.  “But I want to be.”

Wait for me
.

TWENTY-ONE

Oakville; December 4
th
, 2011

They’d agreed to meet on the second floor of the library near the Criminology stacks at precisely one, and it was there Autumn now paced.  Every creaking step or cough drew her attention and it was exhausting.  After weeks of fear, her body was tapped out from adrenaline surges and her inability to stomach more than one meal each day.  Veronica had left her a bottle of multivitamins before heading home, adamant that she take them every day to keep her body healthy.

“
I understand why it’s hard right now, but you need to stay strong.  Drink calories.  Take these.  Rest
.”

She was trying.  She was failing miserably, but no one could deny her a gold star for effort.  Taking another gulp of her orange juice, she tapped her foot impatiently. 
Where is he
?

“Autumn?”

She jumped, a nervous squeak slipping out before she noticed the man tucked behind the stacks. 
He was already here
, she realized.  Why hadn’t he said anything sooner?  Ticked off, she glowered at her visitor, finding the black hood over a black ball cap to be paranoid overkill. 

“Figured it might be you, but wanted to be sure,” he said quickly.  “I have a table.”

Without awaiting her assent he spun around, darting towards the study rooms in the far corner of the floor.  Normally, these required a reservation from a student, which only added to her confusion.  Had he lied?  Was he a current student after all?  Zigzagging between the shelves, she dutifully followed him into the third room, tossing her bag on the table next to his backpack.  He shut the door and settled reluctantly into the chair opposite hers.

“We have thirty minutes,” he said.  “It was all I could arrange.”

“Do you go here?” Autumn asked.

He shook his head, removing his hood and cap.  “Used to.  Graduated four years ago.  My buddy’s little brother reserved the room.”  With a deep breath, he leaned back, studying her intently.  “So you read the blog?”

Autumn nodded.  “I found it linked to the paranormal group’s site.”

“I was the one that got them into the tunnels,” he disclosed.  “I had a lot of access back then.”

“Good at picking locks?”

He laughed, shaking his head.  “Didn’t need to.  I worked in the Admin offices.  It’s not hard to swipe the spare keys, even the filing cabinet ones.  Casteel’s a little too trusting at times.”

Autumn frowned.  “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Most of the students are too busy making out behind buildings to bother with heavy stuff.  I wouldn’t worry that much.  Besides, I had my reasons.”

His hair was bottle-blonde, tipped in blue. 
University, maybe
?  Not many employers would dig this look for entry-level.  For all of his suspicions and jittery hands, he seemed nice enough.  His ability to sneak on campus made far more sense now, in light of his past at Casteel.

“What reasons would those be?”

He unzipped his backpack, extracting two large manila envelopes.  “Have you heard about Nikki Lang?”

Autumn nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m in her room.”

A whoosh of air expelled from his lips as he noticeably blanched.  “Damn.  I figured you were new, but still…  In that case, it’s very fortunate you contacted me.”  Reaching into the larger envelope of the two, he pulled out a stack of pages, clipped together in the corner.  “Nikki passed on February 15
th
, 2009.  Reading Week.  She wasn’t noticed right away since the campus was half-empty and there was a small fire in Pearson that night.  It was when a final head count was taken post-fire trucks that they noticed and went looking for her.”

He unclipped his stack of papers, laying out an obituary and a photocopy of her yearbook photo.  Her shy smile now haunted Autumn’s sleep when she managed to succumb to it.

“When my buddy told me about her, about how no one could understand why and how there was no note, I knew she was another one of them.”

“Another one of what?” Autumn asked.  “You talked about a curse.”

He nodded slowly, setting aside the pages on Nikki and laying out four more.  “During my final year – 2007 – a grade twelve student ran away during the winter.  Her name was Alyssa Patterson.  No one ever heard from her again after she bolted.  As you can see,” he continued, tapping a photo, “she fits a pattern.” 

Autumn gasped:  this girl was also a redhead – dyed, but deep auburn all the same.  Her blue eyes stared through her, challenging the onlooker to an unspoken duel. 
So much anger
. 

“No one thought anything of Alyssa bailing, since she’d always been thoroughly pissed off with the school.  Her parents sent her here for behaviour modification.  Had a history of theft and minor arson incidents, from what I gleaned from her file.  Thing is, she also complained to a few people that someone was stalking her.  When she conveniently ran off, I felt like it was bogus.  Couldn’t prove anything.”

“Stalked?”

“Eyes following her.  Things being moved in her room.  That sort of thing.  Could have been a prank, but I think it was the long-dead residents of the asylum.” With a shuffling of papers, he continued.  “I snooped because I could, obsessed with the idea of the campus being haunted.  Like I said, I got those guys onto the property to investigate, and they definitely found
something
.  They weren’t able to work long enough to narrow it down.  But then, I started hearing talk in the office.”

Another photo.  Another auburn-haired girl.  Younger, though – no older than thirteen.

“In 2005, Leigh-Anne Blackwell ran away the day before Reading Week.  She’d once stabbed a girl in a fight after school.  She told people she was going to run, had a plan to hit Union Station downtown and take a Via train to anywhere but home.”

More pages.  More pictures, laid side by side.  Natural redheads, dye jobs… Younger, older… But all of them at least bore a passing resemblance to Nikki Lang – and her.